Awhile in silence Adosinda stood, Reading his alter’d visage and the thoughts Which thus transfigured him. Aye, she exclaim’d, My tale hath moved thee! it might move the dead, Quicken captivity’s dead soul, and rouse This prostrate country from her mortal trance: Therefore I live to tell it; and for this Hath the Lord God Almighty given to me A spirit not mine own and strength from Heaven; Dealing with me as in the days of old With that Bethulian Matron when she saved His people from the spoiler. What remains But that the life which he hath thus preserved I consecrate to him? Not veil’d and vow’d To pass my days in holiness and peace; Nor yet between sepulchral walls immured, Alive to penitence alone; my rule He hath himself prescribed, and hath infused A passion in this woman’s breast, wherein All passions and all virtues are combined; Love, hatred, joy, and anguish, and despair, And hope, and natural piety, and faith, Make up the mighty feeling. Call it not Revenge! thus sanctified and thus sublimed, ’Tis duty, ’tis devotion. Like the grace Of God, it came and saved me; and in it Spain must have her salvation. In thy hands Here, on the grave of all my family, I make my vow. She said, and kneeling down, Placed within Roderick’s palms her folded hands. This life, she cried, I dedicate to God, Therewith to do him service in the way Which he hath shown. To rouse the land against This impious, this intolerable yoke, ... To offer up the invader’s hateful blood, ... This shall be my employ, my rule and rite, Observances and sacrifice of faith; For this I hold the life which he hath given, A sacred trust; for this, when it shall suit His service, joyfully will lay it down. So deal with me as I fulfil the pledge, O Lord my God, my Saviour and my Judge. Then rising from the earth, she spread her arms, And looking round with sweeping eyes exclaim’d, Auria, and Spain, and Heaven receive the vow! IV. THE MONASTERY OF ST. FELIX.