Had chill'd their fiery blood;-it is no time. GONZALEZ enters. ELMINA. My noble lord! Welcome from this day's toil!—It is the hour Free thy mail'd bosom from the corslet's weight, For the tired peasant, when the vesper-bell His vine and olive, he may sit at eve, Watching his children's sport: but unto him Who keeps the watch-place on the mountain-height, When Heaven lets loose the storms that chasten realms -Who speaks of rest? XIMENA. My father, shall I fill The wine-cup for thy lips, or bring the lute Whose sounds thou lovest? GONZALEZ. If there be strains of power To rouse a spirit, which in triumphant scorn May cast off nature's feebleness, and hold Tears and fond thoughts to earth; give voice to those ! I have need of such, Ximena! we must hear No melting music now. XIMENA. I know all high Heroic ditties of the elder time, Sung by the mountain-Christians,' in the holds And the pine forests deeply to resound * "Serranos," mountaineers. The praise of later champions. Wouldst thou hear The war-song of thine ancestor, the Cid? GONZALEZ. Aye, speak of him; for in that name is power, How my heart sinks! ELMINA. Oh, why is this? GONZALEZ. It must not fail thee yet, Daughter of heroes!-thine inheritance Is strength to meet all conflicts. Thou canst number In thy long line of glorious ancestry Men, the bright offering of whose blood hath made The ground it bathed e'en as an altar, whence As with a conqueror's robe, till th' infidel O'erawed, shrank back before them?-Aye, the earth Were of a moment, tortures whose brief aim Was to destroy, within whose powers and scope Lay nought but dust.—And earth doth call them martyrs ! ELMINA. Mean'st thou ?-know'st thou aught?— I cannot utter it-My sons! my sons! Is it of them?-Oh! wouldst thou speak of them? GONZALEZ. A mother's heart divineth but too well! ELMINA. Speak, I adjure thee!-I can bear it all.— Elmina, still they live. GONZALEZ. ELMINA. But captives! They Whom my fond heart had imaged to itself Are captives with the Moor!-Oh! how was this? GONZALEZ. Alas! our brave Alphonso, in the pride ELMINA. way 'Tis enough. -And when shall they be ransomed ? GONZALEZ. There is asked A ransom far too high. ELMINA. What! have we wealth Which might redeem a monarch, and our sons The while wear fetters?-Take thou all for them, |