Sprung from the Cid!—and I, too, I can die
As a warrior’s high-born child!
Elm. Alas, alas!
And wouldst thou die, thus early die, fair boy?
What hath life done to thee, that thou shouldst cast
Its flower away, in very scorn of heart,
Ere yet the blight be come?
Alph. That voice doth sound——
Abd. Stranger, who art thou?—this is mockery! speak!
Elm. (throwing off a mantle and helmet, and embracing her sons.)