Didst win him to this treason.
Con. When did men
Call mercy treason? Take my life, but save
My noble Raimond!
Vit. Maiden! he must die.
E’en now the youth before his judges stands;
And they are men who, to the voice of prayer,
Are as the rock is to the murmur’d sigh
Of summer-waves!—ay, though a father sit
On their tribunal. Bend thou not to me.