Beyond permitted means, and to my heart, Which loved her dearer than its own life-blood, Abhorrent. Silently she suffer’d all, Or when I urged her with most vehemence, Only replied, I knew her fix’d resolve, And craved my patience but a little while Till death should set her free. Touch’d as I was, I yet persisted, till at length to escape The ceaseless importunity, she fled: And verily I fear’d until this hour, My rigour to some fearfuller resolve Than flight, had driven my child. Chiefs, I appeal To each and all, and Orpas to thyself Especially, if, having thus essay’d All means that law and nature have allow’d To bend her will, I may not rightfully Hold myself free, that promise being void Which cannot be fulfill’d. Thou sayest then, Orpas replied, that from her false belief Her stubborn opposition drew its force. I should have thought that from the ways corrupt Of these idolatrous Christians, little care Might have sufficed to wean a duteous child, The example of a parent so beloved Leading the way; and yet I will not doubt Thou didst enforce with all sincerity And holy zeal upon thy daughter’s mind The truths of Islam. Julian knit his brow, And scowling on the insidious renegade, He answer’d, By what reasoning my poor mind Was from the old idolatry reclaim’d, None better knows than Seville’s mitred chief, Who first renouncing errors which he taught, Led me his follower to the Prophet’s pale. Thy lessons I repeated as I could; Of graven images, unnatural vows, False records, fabling creeds, and juggling priests, Who making sanctity the cloak of sin, Laugh’d at the fools on whose credulity They fatten’d. To these arguments, whose worth Prince Orpas, least of all men, should impeach, I added, like a soldier bred in arms, And to the subtleties of schools unused, The flagrant fact, that Heaven with victory, Where’er they turn’d, attested and approved The chosen Prophet’s arms. If thou wert still The mitred Metropolitan, and I Some wretch of Arian or of Hebrew race Thy proper business then might be to pry, And question me for lurking flaws of faith. We Musselmen, Prince Orpas, live beneath A wiser law, which with the iniquities Of thine old craft, hath abrogated this Its foulest practice! As Count Julian ceased, From underneath his black and gather’d brow There went a look, which with these wary words Bore to the heart of that false renegade Their whole envenom’d meaning. Haughtily Withdrawing then his alter’d eyes, he said Too much of this! return we to the sum Of my discourse. Let Abulcacem say, In whom the Caliph speaks, if with all faith Having essay’d in vain all means to win My child’s consent, I may not hold henceforth The covenant discharged. The Moor replied. Well hast thou said, and rightly may’st assure