_Ben._ [_Aside to Dor._]
The emperor would learn these prisoners' names;
You know them?
_Dor._ Tell him, no;
And trouble me no more--I will not know them.
Shall I trust heaven, that heaven which I renounced,
With my revenge? Then, where's my satisfaction?
No; It must be my own, I scorn a proxy. [_Aside._
_M. Mol._ 'Tis decreed;
These of a better aspect, with the rest,
Shall share one common doom, and lots decide it.
For every numbered captive, put a ball
Into an urn; three only black be there,
The rest, all white, are safe.
_Muf._ Hold, sir; the woman must not draw.
_M. Mol_ O Mufti,
We know your reason; let her share the danger.
_Muf._ Our law says plainly, women have no souls.
_M, Mol._ 'Tis true; their souls are mortal, set her by;
Yet, were Almeyda here, though fame reports her
The fairest of her sex, so much, unseen,
I hate the sister of our rival-house,
Ten thousand such dry notions of our Alcoran
Should not protect her life, if not immortal;
Die as she could, all of a piece, the better
That none of her remain. [_Here an Urn is brought in; the Prisoners
approach with great concernment, and
among the rest,_ SEBASTIAN, ALVAREZ,
_and_ ANTONIO, _who come more chearfully._
_Dor._ Poor abject creatures, how they fear to die!
These never knew one happy hour in life,
Yet shake to lay it down.
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