Vig. You'll pray soon that he may!
Speak, noble prince.
Ban. I, lord of conquered Suli,
Condemn the son of Oswald unto death
By crucifixion. Be his body nailed
Upon the cross now raised on Kidmir peak,
That Oswald may behold his groaning son,
And every Christian dog look up and see
How dies the Prophet's enemy.
[To Ramunin] Away!
Prick him with delicate tortures that yet leave
Him heart to heave his agony. Hear you!
If he live not three days upon the cross
Yourself shall hang beside him.
Ram. I've a hand
Has had some practice, sir.
Ban. We know it, fellow,
And therefore we employ you.
Ram. I put the nails
In young Deobus, he who hung five days
'Twixt heaven and earth, and to the fifth eve groaned
As he would pull his heart up. I've a medal
Struck by the city for it.
Ban. I will match it,
If you match me the service.
Ram. That I'll do.
These English have strong hearts—will suck at pain
As life were in her dugs.
[Exit Ramunin, guards, and Bertrand. Priest and guests follow. The maidens huddle at door, right]
Bion. Sister, you stare
Too hardly on this grief. It is a woe
That Heaven smiles on, and the cure now waits
In Banissat's fair mercy. You shall be
His royal wife, and Suli's princess still.
Vig. Speak to the prince.