Obidos and Alenquer, where the trees
Shadow the village steps, and on the slopes
Our gardens bloom: where cold Montego laves
The fertile valleys ’mong the hills of Beira:
Our country we remember, and the voices
Of wives and children, by whose tears we pray,
Despise us not. See on our knees we bow,
And by God’s love pray thee deliver us.
[They all kneel to Ferdinand.
Fer. Ah, wretched rebels! hath a little hardship