Page:The Siege of Valencia.pdf/113

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And we will cast our worthless grandeur from us, As 'twere a cumbrous robe!—Why, thou art one, To whose high nature pomp hath ever been But as the plumage to a warrior's helm, Worn or thrown off as lightly. And for me, Thou knowest not how serenely I could take The peasant's lot upon me, so my heart, Amidst its deep affections undisturb'd, May dwell in silence.

Father! doubt thou not But we will bind ourselves to poverty, With glad devotedness, if this, but this, May win them back.—Distrust us not, my father! We can bear all things.

Can ye bear disgrace?

We were not born for this.

No, thou sayst well! Hold to that lofty faith.—My wife, my child! Hath earth no treasures richer than the gems Torn from her secret caverns?—If by them