Midst the dead silence of pale multitudes,
Led forth in fetters—dost thou mark me, boy?
To take their last look of th' all gladdening sun,
And bow, perchance, the stately head of youth,
Unto the death of shame!—Hadst thou seen this——
ALPHONSO (to CARLOS).
We have had heroes for our sires—this man
Should not behold us tremble.
ABDULLAH.
To tame the loftiest natures. Yet again,
I ask thee, wilt thou, from beneath the walls,
Sue to thy sire for life; or wouldst thou die,
With this, thy brother?
ALPHONSO.
Around my father's castle, I have heard
The mountain-peasants, as they dress'd the vines,
Or drove the goats, by rock and torrent, home,
Singing their ancient songs; and these were all
Of the Cid Campeador; and how his sword
Tizona3[1] clear'd its way through turban'd hosts,
And captured Afric's kings, and how he won
