Juan.Where do they take me without you,
My father!—my dear mother!
Mother.Sir, permit
For one brief moment that I speak to my
Poor child—short will the satisfaction be,
Long, endless sorrow following close behind.
Merchant.Say what thou wilt; 'tis the last time thou canst.
Mother.Alas! it is the first that e'er I felt
Such woe.
Juan.Mother, keep me with thee;
Suffer me not to go, I know not where.
Mother.Fortune has, since I bore thee, my sweet child,
Hidden her face—the heavens are dark—the sea
And the wild winds combine for my dismay;
The very elements our enemies!
Thou knowest not thy misery, although
Thou art its victim—and such ignorance
Is happiness for thee! My only love,
Since to see thee no more I am allow'd,
I pray thee never to forget to seek
The favour of the Virgin in thy prayers—
The queen of goodness she—of grace and hope
She can unloose thy chain, and set thee free.
Aydar.Hark to the Christian what advice she gives!
Thoud'st have him lost as thee, false infidel!
Juan.My mother, let me stay—let not these Moors
Take me away.
Mother.My treasures go with thee.
Juan.In faith, I fear these men!