so.
I'll seek her, and Alfonso's life preserved,
At once shall pay her kindness for my freedom,
And buy my son's full pardon. Yes, I'll haste,
And snatch my sovereign from this gulf of ruin.
I, I the Atlas of his tottering throne----
Prosperous I shunned; unhappy, I forgive him;
He reigned, I scorned his power; he sinks, I'll save him. [_Exit._

_End of Act III._

ACT IV.

SCENE I. Amelrosa's _chamber._

Amelrosa _in white robes, crowned with flowers_, Estella, _with a
letter._

_Amelrosa._ 'Tis strange! At this late hour! In armour say'st thou?

_Estel._ In sable armour; round his neck was slung
A bugle horn. In courteous guise he prayed me
Give you this note unseen.

_Amel._ Unseen! How is this? [_Reading_]

"One, not unknown, requests an immediate
audience on matters most important. Princess,
delay not as you value your father's life."
Not signed! My father's life! Estella say,
Did he not tell his name?

_Estel._ He said this jewel
Would speak whence came his letter.

_Amel._ Ha! The ring
I gave Orsino! Quickly seek yon stranger,
And charge him meet me at St. Juan's chapel;
For there to pass the night in grateful prayer,
E'en now I go----Friend speed thee.

_Amel._ [_Alone_] Doubt and terror----
My father's life?--And yet, for such a father
What need I fear? Heaven will defend its own,
And wings of seraphs shield that king from harm,
Whose proudest title is--"his people's father,"
Whose dearest treasure is his people's love! [_Exit._

SCENE II. _St. Juan's cloisters by moon-light.--On one side a gothic
chapel._

_Orsi._ [_Alone in black armour._] Yes, this must be the place--
Estella named,
St. Juan's shrine, and sure 'tis for the princess
Yon altar flames--Oh! hallowed vaults, how often
Ye ring with prayers, which granted would destroy
The fools who form them! Virgins there request
Their charms may fire the heart of some gay rake,
Who proves a wedded curse--There wives ask children,
And, when they have them, find their vices such
They mourn their birth--The spendthrift begs some kinsman
May die, and vows that heaven shall share the spoil--
While the young soldier prays his sword ere long
May blush with blood, (and with whose blood he cares not,)
Swearing, if so his arm may purchase glory,
He'll pay its price, a thousand human hearts.
And all these mad, these impious vows are ushered
With chant of cloistered maids, and swell of organs--
As could our earthly so