[She turns away—he clings to her dress.]
Forgive me!
Mosada.It was Allah's will.
Second Inquisitor.Now cords.
Mosada. No need to bind my hands. Where are ye, sirs,
For ye are hid with vapours?
Second Inquisitor.Round the stake
The vapour is much thicker.
Cola.God! the stake!
Ye said that ye would fright her from her sin—
No more; take me instead of her, great sirs.
She was my only friend; I'm lame you know—
One shoulder twisted, and the children cry
Names after me.
First Inquisitor. Lady—
Mosada.I come.
Cola [following.]Forgive.
Forgive, or I will die.