Ber. Then 'tis done. Yet hold! the price that thou must pay for this
dear boon is large. Thou must swear never to see him more; must banish
love, nay, even memory of that fatal hour when first he saw and saved
thee. If thou wilt vow to wed none but one of thine own race, his life
and liberty are thine to give. Speak, Zara! Wilt thou do all this?

Zara. Oh, Father, Father, anything but this! Pity, gratitude, and love
have bound me to him, and the fetters thou hast cast around him are not
stronger than the deep affection he hath wakened in my heart. Ah, why
wilt thou not give life and liberty to him, and joy to thy child? I will
not take the vow.

Ber. Then his fate is sealed. Thy girl's heart is too selfish to forego
its own joy for his sake. Thou dost not love enough to sacrifice thy
happiness to win his freedom. I had thought more nobly of thee, Zara.

Zara. I _will_ be worthy all thou mayst have thought me; but thou canst
little know the desolation thou hast brought me. Thou shalt see how
deeply thou hast wronged me, and my love. I will bear all, suffer all,
if it will win the life and liberty of him I love so deeply and so well.

Ber. Would to Heaven thou hadst never seen this English stranger! Again,
and for the last time, Zara, I ask thee, Wilt thou leave the captive to
his fate, and seek another heart to love?

Zara. Never! I could mourn his death with bitter tears; but oh, my love
is worthy a deeper sacrifice! He shall never suffer one sad hour if I
may spare him, and never know that liberty to him will bring such
life-long sorrow unto me.

Ber. Then thou wilt take the vow I bid thee?

Zara. I will.

Ber. Then swear by all thou dost hold most dear, and by thy mother's
spirit, to wed one only of thy father's race; and through joy and
sorrow, thro' youth and age, to keep thy vow unbroken until death.

Zara. I swear; and may the spirit of that mother look in pity on the
child whose love hath made her life so dark a path to tread.

Ber. May thou find comfort, Zara! I would have spared thee this, but now
it cannot be. Yet thy reward shall well repay thee for thy sacrifice.
The English knight is free, and thou shalt restore him unto life and
liberty. May Allah bless thee, child!

[_Exit_ Bernardo.

Zara. 'Tis over! The bright dream is past. Oh, Ernest! few will love
thee as I have done; few suffer for thee all that I so gladly bear; and
none can honor