General—Enough! Cool thy Moorish spleen in the dungeon. When fasting brings discretion, thou mayest talk more soberly.
Hafiz—Glut thy pious hatred as the priests and fanatic Kings dictate. Spain's life is the price! Her glory will go with the going of the Moor.
(The guards march the Moors off the stage.)
Pedro—He hath an evil tongue.
General—The honor of Spain is not to be attacked. (To Pedro.) He must have no food until I give thee word.
(Exit Pedro. Enter Rodriguez.)
Rodriguez—Father, I tried to see thee last night, and thy door was closed to me. I craved but thy blessing.
General—I know of thy bravery. All Spain will praise thee.
Rodriguez—I want no praise.