⁠Though deepest penetrate,
In whom the goodness of her heart
⁠The enchantment still excels,
That in her beauteous face and form
⁠So marvellously dwells,
Unhappy victim lives of fears,
⁠That ever her attend,
Because she loves the king, and sees
⁠His course in evil end:
She knows that based in blood and grief,
⁠And persecution's train,
A palace never is secure,
⁠No throne can fix'd remain.
And she has two young tender girls,
⁠Who with another sire,
Whatever their lot, might all have gain'd
⁠Their hearts could best require;
And in Fadrique's worth she sees
⁠A stay and partisan.
She knows he comes to Seville now,
⁠And as from words can scan
Her fierce lord's brow dark lowering,
⁠In evil hour he came,
And to allay suspicions,
⁠Or give them higher aim,
At length, though with a trembling lip,