(Running to her.)

Once more be welcome, O thou sister mine! 
How I have long’d to have thee here with me! 
And hast thou brought my bracelets and my jewels,
My ointments and my perfumes, with thee now,
As from Toledo’s shops I ordered them?

ESTHER.  I bring them and more weighty things besides—­
             Unwelcome news, a bitter ornament. 
             Most mighty Sire and Prince!  The Queen has from
             Toledo’s walls withdrawn, and now remains
             In yonder castle where ill-fortune first
             Decreed that you and we should meet.

(To GARCERAN.)

                             With her,

Your noble father, Don Manrique Lara,
Who summons all the kingdom’s high grandees
From everywhere, in open letters, to
Discuss the common good, as if the land
Were masterless and you had died, O King.

KING.  I think you dream!

ESTHER.  I am awake, indeed,
             And must keep watch to save my sister’s life. 
             They threaten her.  She’ll be the sacrifice!

RACHEL.  O woe is me!  Did I not long ago
             Adjure you to return unto the court
             And bring to naught the plotting of my foes!—­
             But you remain’d.  Behold here are your arms,
             The helm, the shield, and there the mighty spear
             I’ll gather them—­but Oh, I cannot do ’t.

KING (to ESTHER).

Now tend the little girl.  With every breath
She ten times contradicts what she has said. 
I will to court; but there I need no arms;
With open breast, my hand without a sword,
I in my subjects’ midst will boldly step
And ask:  “Who is there here that dares rebel?”
They soon shall know their King is still alive
And that the sun dies not when evening comes,
But that the morning brings its rays anew. 
Thou follow’st, Garceran!

GARCERAN.  I’m ready.

ESTHER.  What
             Becomes of us?

RACHEL.  O stay, I beg you, stay!

KING.  The castle’s safe, the keeper faithful, too;
             And he will guard you with his very life. 
             For though I feel that I have sinned full sore,
             Let no one suffer who has trusted me
             And who with me has shared my guilt and sin. 
             Come, Garceran!  Or, rather, take the lead;
             For if the estates were in assembly still,
             Not called by me, nor rightfully convened,
             I then must punish—­much against my will. 
             Command them to disperse—­and quickly, too! 
             Thy father tell:  Although protector he
             And regent for me in my boyhood days,
             I now know how to guard my right myself—­
             Against him, too, against no matter whom. 
             Come on!  And ye, farewell!