That woman, in her deepest degradation,
Holds something sacred, something undefiled,
Some pledge and keepsake of her higher nature,
And, like the diamond in the dark, retains
Some quenchless gleam of the celestial light!
Lara. Yet Preciosa would have taken the gold.
Don Carlos. (rising.) You will not be persuaded!
Lara. Yes; persuade me.
Don Carlos. No one so deaf as he who will not hear!
Lara. No one so blind as he who will not see!