The Conquest OF GRANADA BY THE SPANIARDS: In Two Parts. Acted at the Theater-Royall.  
Written by JOHN DRYDEN Servant to His Majesty.  
— Major rerum mihi nascitur Ordo;  
Majus Opus moveo.  Virg: Aeneid: 7. 
In the SAVOY, Printed by T. N. for Henry Herringman, and are to be sold at the Anchor in the Lower Walk of the New Exchange. 1672.   

To His ROYAL HIGHNESS The DUKE.  
SIR,  
Heroic Poesy has always been sacred to Princes and to Heroes. Thus Virgil inscribed his Aeneids to Augustus Caesar; and, of latter Ages, Tasso and Ariosto dedicated their Poems to the house of Est. 'Tis, indeed, but justice, that the most excellent and most profitable kind of writing, should be addressed by Poets to such persons whose Characters have, for the most part, been the guides and patterns of their imitation. And Poets, while they imitate, instruct. The feigned Hero inflames the true: and the dead virtue animates the living. Since, therefore, the World is governed by precept and Example; and both these can only have influence from those persons who are above us, that kind of Poesy which excites to virtue the greatest men, is of greatest use to humane kind.  
'Tis from this consideration, that I have presumed to dedicate to your Royal Highness these faint representations of your own worth and valour in Heroic Poetry: or, to speak more properly, not to dedicate, but to restore to you those Ideas, which, in the more perfect part of my characters, I have taken from you. Hero's may lawfully be delighted with their own praises, both as they are farther incitements to their virtue, and as they are the highest returns which mankind can make them for it.  
And certainly, if ever Nation were obliged either by the conduct, the personal valour, or the good fortune of a Leader, the English are acknowledging, in all of them, to your Royal Highness. Your whole life has been a continued Series of Heroic Actions: which you began so early that you were no sooner named in the world, but it was with praise and Admiration. Even the first blossoms of your youth paid us all that could be expected from a ripening manhood. While you practised but the rudiments of War you outwent all other Captains: and have since found none to surpass, but yourself alone. the opening of your glory was like that of light: you shone to us from afar; and disclosed your first beams on distant Nations. yet so, that the lustre of them was spread abroad, and reflected brightly on your native Country. You were then an honour to it, when it was a reproach to itself: and, when the fortunate Usurper sent his arms to Flanders, many of the adverse party were vanquished by your fame, ere they tried your valour. the report of it drew over to your Ensigns whole Troops and Companies of converted Rebels: and made them forsake successful wickedness to follow an oppressed and exiled virtue. your reputation waged war with the Enemies of your royal family, even within their trenches; and the more obstinate, or more guilty of them, were forced to be spies over those whom they commanded: lest the name of YORK should disband that Army in whose fate it was to defeat the Spaniards, and force Dunkirk to surrender. Yet, those victorious forces of the Rebels were not able to sustain your arms: where you charged in person you were a Conqueror: 'tis true they afterwards recovered Courage; and wrested that Victory from others which they had lost to you. And it was a greater action for them to rally than it was to overcome. Thus, by the presence of your Royal Highness, the English on both sides remained victorious: and that Army, which was broken by your valour, became a terror to those for whom they conquered. Then it was that at the cost of other Nations you informed and cultivated that Valour which was to defend your native Country, and to vindicate its honour from the insolence of our encroaching Neighbours. When the Hollanders, not contented to withdraw themselves from the obedience which they owed their lawful Sovereign, affronted those by whose Charity they were first protected: and, (being swelled up to a pre-eminence of Trade, by a supine negligence on our side, and a sordid parsimony on their own,) dared to dispute the Sovereignty of the Seas; the eyes of three Nations were then cast on you: and, by the joint suffrage of King and People, you were chosen to revenge their common injuries▪ to which, though you had an undoubted title by your birth, you had yet a greater by your courage. Neither did the success deceive our hopes and expectations. the most glorious victory which was gained by our Navy in that war, was in that first engagement: wherein, even by the confession of our enemies, who ever palliate their own losses, and diminish our advantages, your absolute triumph was acknowledged. you conquered at the Hague as entirely as at London. and the return of a shattered Fleet, without an Admiral, left not the most impudent among them the least pretence for a false bonfire, or a dissembled day of public thanksgiving. All our achievements against them afterwards, though we sometimes conquered and were never overcome, were but a copy of that victory: and they still fell short of their original. somewhat of fortune was ever wanting, to fill up the title of so absolute a defeat. or, perhaps, the Guardian Angel of our Nation was not enough concerned when you were absent: and would not employ his utmost vigour for a less important stake than the life and honour of a Royal Admiral.  
And, if since that memorable day, you have had leisure to enjoy in peace the fruits of so glorious a reputation, 'twas occasion only has been wanting to your courage; for, that can never be wanting to occasion. the same ardour still incites you to Heroic actions: and the same concernment for all the interests of your King and Brother, continue to give you restless nights, and a generous emulation for your own glory. you are still meditating on new labours for yourself, and new triumphs for the Nation. and when our former enemies again provoke us, you will again solicit fate to provide you another Navy to overcome, and another Admiral to be slain. You will, then, lead forth a Nation eager to revenge their past injuries: and, like the Romans, inexorable to Peace, till they have fully vanquished. Let our Enemies make their boast of a surprise; as the Samnites did of a successful stratagem: but the Furcae Caudinae will never be forgiven till they are revenged. I have always observed in your Royal Highness an extreme concernment for the honour of your Country 'tis a passion common to you with a Brother, the most excellent of Kings: and in your two persons, are eminent the Characters which Homer has given us of Heroic virtue: the commanding part in Agamemnon, and the executive in Achilles. And I doubt not, from both your actions, but to have abundant matter to fill the Annals of a glorious Reign: and to perform the part of a just Historian to my Royal Master, without intermixing with it any thing of the Poet.  
In the mean time, while your Royal Highness is preparing fresh employments for our pens▪ I have been examining my own forces, and making trial of myself how I shall be able to transmit you to Posterity. I have formed a Hero, I confess, not absolutely perfect: but of an excessive and overboiling courage. but Homer and Tasso are my precedents. both the Greek and the Italian Poet had well considered that a tame Hero who never transgresses the bounds of moral virtue, would shine but dimly in an Epic poem. the strictness of those Rules might well give precepts to the Reader, but would administer little of occasion to the writer. But a character of an excentrique virtue is the more exact Image of humane life, because he not wholly exempted from its frailties. such a person is Almanzor: whom I present, with all humility, to the Patronage of your Royal Highness. I designed in him a roughness of Character, impatient of injuries; and a confidence of himself, almost approaching to an arrogance. but these errors are incident only to great spirits. they are moles and dimples which hinder not a face from being beautiful; though that beauty be not regular. they are of the number of those amiable imperfections which we see in Mistresses▪ and which we pass over, without a strict examination, when they are accompanied with greater graces. And such, in Almanzor, are a frank and noble openness of Nature▪ an easiness to forgive his conquered enemies; and to protect them in distress; and above all, an inviolable faith in this affection. This, Sir, I have briefly shadowed to your Royal Highness, that you may not be ashamed of that Hero whose protection you undertake. Neither would I dedicate him to so illustrious a name, if I were conscious to myself that he did or said any thing, which was wholly unworthy of it. However, since it is not just that your Royal Highness should defend or own, what, possibly, may be my error, I bring before you this accused Almanzor, in the nature of a suspected Criminal. By the suffrage of the most and best he already is acquitted; and by the sentence of some, condemned. But, as I have no reason to stand to the award of my Enemies, so neither dare I trust the partiality of my friends. I make my last appeal to your Royal Highness, as to a Sovereign Tribunal. Hero's should only be judged by Heroes; because they only are capable of measuring great and Heroic actions by the rule and standard of their own. If Almanzor has failed in any point of Honour, I must therein acknowledge that he deviates from your Royal Highness, who are the pattern of it. But, if at any time he fulfils the parts of personal Valour and of conduct, of a Soldier, and of a General; or, if I could yet give him a Character more advantageous than what he has; of the most unshaken friend, the greatest of Subjects, and the best of Masters, I should then draw to all the world, a true resemblance of your worth and virtues; at least as far as they are capable of being copied, by the mean abilities of  
Sir, Your Royal Highness' Most humble and most obedient Servant J. DRYDEN.   

OF HEROIC PLAYS. An Essay.  
WHether Heroic verse ought to be admitted into serious Plays, is not now to be disputed: 'tis already in possession of the Stage: and I dare confidently affirm, that very few Tragedies, in this Age, shall be received without it. All the arguments, which are formed against it, can amount to no more than this, that it is not so near conversation as Prose; and therefore not so natural. But it is very clear to all, who understand Poetry, that serious Plays ought not to imitate Conversation too nearly. If nothing were to be raised above that level, the foundation of Poetry would be destroyed. and, if you once admit of a Latitude, that thoughts may be exalted, and that Images and Actions may be raised above the life, and described in measure without Rhyme, that leads you insensibly, from your own Principles to mine: You are already so far onward of your way, that you have forsaken the imitation of ordinary converse. You are gone beyond it; and, to continue where you are, is to lodge in the open field, betwixt two Inns. Yon have lost that which you call natural, and have not acquired the last perfection of Art. But it was only custom which cozened us so long: we thought, because Shakespeare and Fletcher went no farther, that there the Pillars of Poetry were to be erected. That, because they excellently described Passion without Rhyme, therefore Rhyme was not capable of describing it. but time has now convinced most men of that Error. 'Tis indeed, so difficult to write verse, that the Adversaries of it have a good plea against many who undertake that task, without being formed by Art or Nature for it. Yet, even they who have written worst in it, would have written worse without it. they have cozened many with their sound, who never took the pains to examine their sense. In fine, they have succeeded: though 'tis true they have more dishonoured Rhyme by their good Success than they could have done by their ill. But I am willing to let fall this argument: 'tis free for every man to write, or not to write, in verse, as he judges it to be, or not to be his Talent; or as he imagines the Audience will receive it.  
For Heroic Plays, (in which only I have used it without the mixture of Prose) the first light we had of them on the English Theatre was from the late Sir William D' Avenant: It being forbidden him in the Rebellious times to act Tragedies and Comedies, becuase they contained some matter of Scandal to those good people, who could more easily dispossess their lawful Sovereign than endure a wanton jest; he was forced to turn his thoughts another way: and to introduce the examples of moral virtue, writ in verse, and performed in Recitative Music. The Original of this music and of the Scenes which adorned his work, he had from the Italian Operas: but he heightened his Characters (as I may probably imagine) from the example of Corneille and some French Poets. In this Condition did this part of Poetry remain at his Majesty's return. When growing bolder, as being now owned by a public Authority, he reviewed his Siege of Rhodes, and caused it to be acted as a just Drama; but as few men have the happiness to begin and finish any new project, so neither did he live to make his design perfect: There wanted the fullness of a Plot, and the variety of Characters to form it as it ought: and, perhaps, something might have been added to the beauty of the stile. All which he would have performed with more exactness had he pleased to have given us another work of the same nature. For myself and others, who come after him, we are bound, with all veneration to his memory, to acknowledge what advantage we received from that excellent groundwork which he laid: and, since it is an easy thing to add to what already is invented, we ought all of us, without envy to him, or partiality to ourselves, to yield him the precedence in it.  
Having done him this justice, as my guide; I may do myself so much, as to give an account of what I have performed after him. I observed then, as I said, what was wanting to the perfection of his Siege of Rhodes: which was design, and variety of Characters. And in the midst of this consideration, by mere accident, I opened the next Book that lay by me, which was an Ariosto in Italian; and the very first two lines of that Poem gave me light to all I could desire. 
Le Donne, I Cavalier, L' arm, gli amori,  
Le courtesy, l' audace imprese jo canto, etc.  for the very next reflection which I made was this, That an Heroic Play ought to be an imitation, in little of an Heroic Poem: and, consequently, that Love and Valour ought to be the Subject of it. Both these, Sir William D' Avenant had begun to shadow: but it was so, as first Discoverers draw their Maps, with headlands, and Promontories, and some few out-lines of somewhat taken at a distance, and which the designer saw not clearly. The common Drama obliged him to a Plot well-formed and pleasant, or, as the Ancients called it, one entire and great Action: but this he afforded not himself in a story, which he neither filled with Persons, nor beautified with Characters, nor varied with Accidents. The Laws of an Heroic Poem did not dispense with those of the other, but raised them to a greater height: and indulged him a farther liberty of Fancy, and of drawing all things as far above the ordinary proportion of the Stage, as that is beyond the common words and actions of humane life: and therefore, in the scanting of his Images, and design, he complied not enough with the greatness and Majesty of an Heroic Poem.  
I am sorry I cannot discover my opinion of this kind of writing, without dissenting much from his; whose memory I love and honour. But I will do it with the same respect to him as if he were now alive, and overlooking my Paper while I write. his judgement of an Heroic Poem was this, That it ought to be dressed in a more familiar and easy shape: more fitted to the common actions and passions of humane life: and, in short, more like a glass of Nature, showing us ourselves in our ordinary habits: and figuring a more practicable virtue to us, than was done by the Ancients or Moderns: thus he takes the Image of an Heroic Poem from the Drama, or stage Poetry: and accordingly, intended to divide it into five Books, representing the same number of Acts; and every Book into several Cantos, imitating the Scenes which compose our Acts.  
But this, I think, is rather Play in Narration (as I may call it) than an Heroic Poem. If at least you will not prefer the opinion of a single man to the practice of the most excellent Authors both of Ancient and latter ages. I am no admirer of Quotations; but you shall hear, if you please, one of the Ancients delivering his judgement on this question: 'tis Petronius Arbiter, the most elegant, and one of the most judicious Authors of the Latin tongue: who, after he had given many admirable rules, for the structure, and beauties of an Epic Poem, concludes all in these following words:  
Non enim res gestae versibus comprehendae sunt; quod longè melius Historici faciunt: sed, perambages, Deorumque ministeria, praecipitandus est liber Spiritus, ut potius furentis animi vaticinatio appareat, quam religiosae orationis, sub testibus, fides.  
In which sentence, and in his own Essay of a Poem, which immediately he gives you, it is thought he taxes Lucan; who followed too much the truth of history, crowded Sentences together, was too full of points, and too often offered at somewhat which had more of the sting of an Epigram, than of the dignity and state of an Heroic Poem. Lucan used not much the help of his heathen Deities, there was neither the ministry of the Gods, nor the precipitation of the Soul, nor the fury of a Prophet, (of which my Author speaks) in his Pharsalia: he treats you more like a Philosopher, than a Poet: and instructs you, in verse, with what he had been taught by his Uncle Seneca, in Prose. In one word, he walks soberly, a foot, when he might fly. Yet Lucan is not always this Religious historian. the Oracle of Appius, and the witchcraft of Erichtho will somewhat atone for him, who was, indeed, bound up by an ill-chosen, and known argument, to follow truth, with great exactness. For my part, I am of opinion, that neither Homer, Virgil, Statius, Ariosto, Tasso, nor our English Spencer could have formed their Poems half so beautiful, without those Gods and Spirits, and those Enthusiastic parts of Poetry, which compose the most noble parts of all their writings. and I will ask any man who loves Heroic Poetry, (for I will not dispute their tastes who do not) if the Ghost of Polydorus in Virgil, the Enchanted wood in Tasso, and the Bower of bliss, in Spencer (which he borrows from that admirable Italian) could have been omitted without taking from their works some of the greatest beauties in them. and if any man object the improbabilities of a spirit appearing, or of a Palace raised by Magic, I boldly answer him, that an Heroic Poet is not tied to a bare representation of what is true, or exceeding probable: but that he may let himself loose to visionary objects, and to the representation of such things, as depending not on sense, and therefore not to be comprehended by knowledge, may give him a freer scope for imagination. 'Tis enough that in all ages and Religions, the greatest part of mankind have believed the power of Magic, and that there are Spirits, or Spectres, which have appeared. This I say is foundation enough for Poetry: and I dare farther affirm that the whole Doctrine of separated beings, whether those Spirits are incorporeal substances, (which Mr. Hobbs, with some reason thinks to imply a contradiction,) or that they are a thinner and more Aerial sort of bodies (as some of the Fathers have conjectured) may better be explicated by Poets, than by Philosophers or Divines. For their speculations on this subject are wholly Poetical; they have only their fancy for their guide, and that, being sharper in an excellent Poet, than it is likely it should in a phlegmatic, heavy gown-man, will see farther, in its own Empire, and produce more satisfactory notions on those dark and doubtful Problems.  
Some men think they have raised a great argument against the use of Spectres and Magic in Heroic Poetry, by saying, They are unnatural: but, whether they or I believe there are such things, is not material, 'tis enough that, for aught we know, they may be in Nature: and what ever is or may be, is not properly, unnatural. Neither am I much concerned at Mr. Cowleys verses before Gondibert; (though his authority is almost sacred to me:) 'Tis true, he has resembled the old Epique Poetry to a fantastic fairy land: but he has contradicted himself by his own Example. For, he has himself made use of Angels, and Visions in his Davideis, as well as Tasso in his Godfrey.  
What I have written on this Subject will not be thought digression by the Reader, if he please to remember what I said in the beginning of this Essay, that I have modelled my Heroic Plays, by the Rules of an Heroic Poem. And, if that be the most noble, the most pleasant and the most instructive way of writing in verse, and, withal, the highest pattern of humane life, as all Poets have agreed, I shall need no other Argument to justify my choice in this imitation. One advantage the Drama has above the other, namely, that it represents to view, what the Poem only does relate, and, Segnius irritant animum demissa per aures, Quam quae sunt oculis subjecta fidelibus, as Horace tells us.  
To those who object my frequent use of Drums and Trumpets; and my representations of Battles, I answer, I introduced them not on the English Stage, Shakespeare used them frequently: and, though Jonson shows no Battle in his Catiline, yet you hear from behind the Scenes, the sounding of Trumpets, and the shouts of fight Armies. But, I add farther; that these warlike Instruments, and, even the representations of fight on the Stage, are no more than necessary to produce the effects of an Heroic Play. that is, to raise the imagination of the Audience, and to persuade them, for the time, that what they behold on the Theatre is really performed. The Poet is, then, to endeavour an absolute dominion over the minds of the Spectators: for, though our fancy will contribute to its own deceit, yet a Writer ought to help its operation. and that the Red Bull has formerly done the same, is no more an Argument against our practice, than it would be for a Physician to forbear an approved medicine because a Mountebank has used it with success.  
Thus I have given a short account of Heroic Plays. I might now, with the usual eagerness of an Author, make a particular defence of this. but the common opinion (how unjust soever,) has been so much to my advantage, that I have reason to be satisfied: and to suffer, with patience, all that can be urged against it.  
For, otherwise, what can be more easy for me, than to defend the character of Almanzor, which is one great exception that is made against the Play? 'Tis said that Almanzor is no perfect pattern of Heroic virtue: that he is a contemner of Kings; and that he is made to perform impossibilities.  
I must therefore, avow, in the first place, from whence I took the Character. the first Image I had of him was from the Achilles of Homer, the next from Tasso's Rinaldo, (who was a copy of the former:) and the third from the Artaban of Monsieur Calprenede: (who has imitated both.) the original of these, (Achilles) is taken by Homer for his Hero: and is described by him as one, who in strength and courage surpassed the rest of the Grecian Army: but, withal, of so fiery a temper, so impatient of an injury, even from his King, and General, that, when his Mistress was to be forced from him by the command of Agamemnon, he not only disobeyed it; but returned him an answer full of contumely; and in the most approbrious terms he could imagine. they are Homer's words which follow, and I have cited but some few amongst a multitude.  
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉:  
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, etc.  
Nay, he proceeded so far in his insolence, as to draw, out his sword, with intention to kill him. 
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  and, if Minerva had not appeared, and held his hand, he had executed his design; and 'twas all she could do to dissuade him from it: the event was that he left the army; and would fight no more. Agamemnon gives his character thus to Nestor. 
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉,  
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  and Horace gives the same description of him in his Art of Poetry.  
— Honoratum, si forte reponis Achillem,  
Impiger, iracundus, inexorabilis, Acer,  
Jura neget sibi nata, nihil non arroget armis.  
Tasso's chief Character, Rinaldo, was a man of the same temper: for, when he had slain Gernando, in his heat of passion, he not only refused to be judged by Godfrey, his General, but threatened, that if he came to seize him, he would right himself by arms upon him: witness these following lines of Tasso.  
Venga egli, o mandi, jo terro fermo il pied;  
Giudici fian troth noi la sort e'l ' arm:  
Fera tragedia vuol ches ' appresenti  
Per lor diporti ale Nemiche genti.  
You see how little these great Authors did esteem the point of Honour, so much magnified by the French, and so ridiculously aped by us. They made their Hero's men of honour; but so, as not to divest them quite of humane passions, and frailties. they contented themselves to show you, what men of great spirits would certainly do, when they were provoked, not what they were obliged to do by the strict rules of moral virtue. for my own part, I declare myself for Homer and Tasso; and am more in love with Achilles and Rinaldo, than with Cyrus and Oroondates. I shall never subject my characters to the French standard; where Love and Honour are to be weighed by drams and scruples. yet, where I have designed the patterns of exact virtue, such as in this Play are the Parts of Almahide, of Ozmyn, and Benzayda, I may safely challenge the best of theirs.  
But Almanzor is taxed with changing sides: And what tie has he on him to the contrary? he is not born their Subject whom he serves: and he is injured by them to a very high degree. he threatens them, and speaks insolently of Sovereign Power: but so do Achilles and Rinaldo; who were Subjects and Soldiers to Agamemnon and Godfrey of Bulloign. he talks extravagantly in his Passion: but, if I would take the pains to quote an hundred passages of Ben. Johnson's Cethegus, I could easily show you that the Rhodomontades of Almanzor are neither so irrational as his▪ nor so impossible to be put in execution. for Cethegus threatens to destroy Nature, and to raise a new one out of it: to kill all the Senate for his part of the action; to look Cato dead; and a thousand other things as extravagant, he says, but performs not one Action in the Play.  
But none of the former calumnies will stick: and, therefore, 'tis at last charged upon me that Almanzor does all things: or if you will have an absurd Accusation, in their nonsense who make it, that he performs impossibilities. they say, that being a stranger he appeases two fight factions, when the Authority of their Lawful Sovereign could not. this is, indeed, the most improbable of all his actions: but, 'tis far from being impossible. Their King had made himself contemptible to his people, as the History of Granada tells us. and Almanzor, though a stranger, yet, was already known to them, by his gallantry in the Juego de toros, his engagement on the weaker side, and, more especially, by the character of his person, and brave actions, given by Abdalla just before. and, after all, the greatness of the enterprise consisted only in the daring: for, he had the King's guards to second him. but we have read both of Caesar, and many other Generals, who have not only calmed a Mutiny with a word, but have presented themselves single before an Army of their enemies; which, upon sight of them, has revolted from their own Leaders, and come over to their trenches. In the rest of Almanzor's actions, you see him for the most part victorious: but, the same fortune has constantly attended many Heroes who were not imaginary. Yet, you see it no Inheritance to him. for, in the first Part, he is made a Prisoner: and, in the last, defeated; and not able to preserve the City from being taken. If the History of the late Duke of Guise be true, he hazarded more and performed not less in Naples, than Almanzor is feigned to have done in Granada.  
I have been too tedious in this Apology; but to make some satisfaction, I will leave the rest of my Play, exposed to the Critics, without defence.  
The concernment of it is wholly passed from me, and aught to be in them, who have been favourable to it, and are somewhat obliged to defend their own opinions. That there are errors in it, I deny not: 
Aft opere in tanto fas est obrepere Somnum.   
But I have already swept the stakes; and with the common good fortune of prosperous Gamesters, can be content to sit quietly; to hear my fortune cursed by some, and my faults arraigned by others, and to suffer both without reply.   

On Mr. Dryden's Play, The Conquest of GRANADA.  
TH' applause I gave among the foolish Crowd,  
Was not distinguished, though I clapped aloud:  
Or, if it had, my judgement had been hid:  
I clapped for Company as others did:  
Thence may be told the fortune of your Play,  
Its goodness must be tried another way:  
Let's judge it then, and, if we've any skill,  
Commend what's good, though we commend it ill:  
There will be Praise enough: yet not so much,  
As if the world had never any such:  
Ben johnson, Beaumond, Fletcher, Shakespeare, are  
As well as you, to have a Poet's share.  
You who write after, have besides, this Curse,  
You must write better, or, you else write worse:  
To equal only what was writ before,  
Seems stolen or borrowed from the former store:  
Though blind as Homer all the Ancients be,  
'Tis on their shoulders like the Lame we see.  
Then, not to flatter th' Age, nor flatter you,  
(Praises though less, are greater when they're true)  
You're equal to the best, outdone by you;  
Who had outdone themselves, had they lived now.  
Vaughan.   

PROLOGUE to the First Part.  
Spoken by Mrs. Ellen Guyn in a broad-brimed hat, and waste belt.  

THis jest was first of t'other houses making,  
And, five times tried, has never failed of taking.  
For 'twere a shame a Poet should be killed  
Under the shelter of so broad a shield.  
This is that hat whose very sight did win ye  
To laugh and clap, as though the Devil were in ye.  
As then, for Nokes, so now, I hope, you'll be  
So dull, to laugh, once more, for love of me.  
I'll write a Play, says one, for I have got  
A broad-brimed hat, and wastbelt towards a Plot.  
Says t'other, I have one more large than that:  
Thus they out-write each other with a hat.  
The brims still grew with every Play they writ;  
And grew so large, they covered all the wit.  
Hat was the Play: 'twas language, wit and tale:  
Like them that find, Meat, drink, and cloth, in Ale.  
What dulness do these Mungrill-wits confess  
When all their hope is acting of a dress!  
Thus two, the best Comedians of the Age  
Must be worn out, with being blocks o'th' Stage.  
Like a young Girl, who better things has known,  
Beneath their Poet's Impotence they groan.  
See now, what Charity it was to save!  
They thought you liked, what only you forgave:  
And brought you more dull sense.- dull sense, much worse  
Than brisk, gay Nonsense; and the heavyer Curse.  
They bring old Ir'n, and glass upon the Stage,  
To barter with the Indians of our Age.  
Still they write on; and like great Authors show:  
But 'tis as Rulers in wet gardens grow;  
Heavy with dirt, and gathering as they go.  
May none who have so little understood  
To like such trash, presume to praise what's good!  
And may those drudges of the Stage, whose fate  
Is, damned dull farce more dully to translate,  
Fall under that excise the State thinks fit  
To set on all French wares, whose worst, is wit.  
French farce worn out at home, is sent abroad;  
And, patched up here, is made our English mode.  
Hence forth, let Poets, 'ere allowed to write,  
Be searched, like Duelists, before they fight,  
For wheel-broad hats, dull humour, all that chasse,  
Which makes you mourn, and makes the Vulgar laugh.  
For these, in Plays, are as unlawful Arms,  
As, in a Combat, Coats of Mail, and Charms.    

Persons Represented.  

MEN.  
By  Mahomet Boabdelin, the last King of Granada. 
Mr. Kynaston:  Prince Abdalla, his Brother. 
Mr. Lydall.  Abdelmelech, chief of the Abencerrages. 
Mr. Mohun.  Zulema, chief of the Zegries. 
Mr. Harris.  Abenamar, an old Abencerago. 
Mr. Cartwright.  Selin, an old Zegry. 
Mr. Wintershall.  Ozmyn a brave young Abencerago, son to Abenamar 
Mr. Beeston.  Hamet, brother to Zulema, a Zegry. 
Mr. Watson.  Gomel, a Zegry. 
Mr. powel.  Almanzor. 
Mr. Hart.  Ferdinand, King of Spain. 
Mr. Littlewood.  Duke of Arcos, his General. 
Mr. Bell.  Don Alonzo, d' Aguilar; a Spanish Captain. 
  

WOMEN.  
By  Almahide, Queen of Granada. 
Mrs. Ellen. Guyn.  Lyndaraxa, Sister to Zulema; a Zegry Lady. 
Mrs. Martial.  Benzayda, daughter to Selin. 
Mrs. Bowtell.  Esperanza slave to the Queen. 
Mrs. Reeve.  Halyma, slave to Lyndaraxa. 
Mrs. Eastland.  Isabel, Queen of Spain. 
Mrs. jeames.   
Messengers, Guards, Attendants, Men and Women.  
The SCENE, in Granada, and the Christian Camp besieging it.   

Almanzor and Almabide, Or, The CONQUEST OF Granada. The First Part.  
Boabdelin, Abenamar, Abdelmelech. Guards. Boab. 
THus, in the Triumphs of soft Peace I reign;  
And, from my Walls, defy the Powers of Spain:  
With pomp and Sports my Love I celebrate,  
While they keep distance; & attend my State.  
Parent to her whose eyes my Soul enthral; To Aben.  
Whom I, in hope, already Father call;  
Abenamar, thy Youth these sports has known,  
Of which thy age is now Spectator grown:  
Judge-like thou sit'st, to praise, or to arraign  
The flying skirmish of the darted Cane:  
But, when fierce Bulls run loose upon the Place,  
And our bold Moor their Loves with danger grace,  
Then, heat new bends thy slackened Nerves again,  
And a short youth runs warm through every Vein.  Aben. 
I must confess th' Encounters of this day  
Warmed me indeed, but quite another way:  
Not with the fire of Youth; but generous rage  
To see the glories of my Youthful age  
So far outdone.  Abdel. 
Castille could never boast, in all its pride,  
A pomp so splendid; when the lists set wide,  
Gave room to the fierce Bulls, which wildly ran  
In Sierra Ronda, 'ere the War began:  
Who, with high Nostrils, Snuffing up the Wind,  
Now stood, the Champions of the Savage kind.  
Just opposite, within the circled place,  
Ten of our bold Abencerrages race  
(Each brandishing his Bull-spear in his hand,)  
Did their proud Ginnets gracefully command.  
On their steeled heads their demy-Lances wore  
Small pennons, which their Lady's colours bore.  
Before this Troop did Warlike Ozmyn go;  
Each Lady as he road, saluting low;  
At the chief stands, with reverence more profound,  
His well-taught Courser, kneeling, touched the ground;  
Thence raised, he sidelong bore his Rider on,  
Still facing, till he out of sight was gone.  Boab. 
You praise him like a friend, and I confess  
His brave deportment merited no less.  Abdelm. 
Nine Bulls were launched by his victorious arm,  
Whose wary Ginnet, shunning still the harm,  
Seemed to attend the shock; and then leaped wide:  
Mean while, his dexterous Rider, when he spied  
The beast just stooping; 'twixt the neck and head  
His Lance, with never erring fury, sped.  Aben. 
My Son did well; and so did Hamet too;  
Yet did no more than we were wont to do;  
But what the stranger did, was more than man:  Abdel. 
He finished all those Triumphs we began.  
One Bull, with curled black head beyond the rest,  
And dew-laps hanging from his brawny chest,  
With nodding front awhile did daring stand.  
And with his jetty hoof spurned back the sand:  
Then, leaping forth, he bellowed out aloud:  
Th' amazed assistants back each other crowed,  
While, Monach-like he ranged the listed field:  
Some tossed, some gored, some, trampling down, he killed.  
Th' ignobler Moor, from far, his rage provoke,  
With woods of darts, which from his sides he shook.  
Mean time, your valiant Son who had before  
Gained fame, road round to every Mirador,  
Beneath each Ladies stand, a stop he made;  
And, bowing, took th' applauses, which they paid.  
Just in that point of time, the brave unknown,  
Approached the Lists.  Boab. 
— I marked him, when alone  
(Observed by all, himself observing none)  
He entered first; and with a graceful pride  
His fiery Arab, dextrously did guide:  
Who, while his Rider every stand survayed,  
Sprung loose, and flew, into an Escapade:  
Not moving forward, yet, with every bound,  
Pressing, and seeming still to quit his ground.  
What after passed—  
Was far from the Ventana where I sat, To Abdel.  
But you were near; and can the truth relate.  Abdel. 
Thus, while he stood, the Bull who saw this foe,  
His easier Conquests proudly did forego:  
And, making at him, with a furious bound,  
From his bend forehead aimed a double wound.  
A rising Murmur, ran through all the field,  
And every Ladies blood-with fear was chilled.  
Some schrieked, while others, with more helpful care,  
Cried out aloud, beware, brave youth, beware!  
At this he turned, and, as the Bull drew near,  
Shunned, and received him on his pointed Spear.  
The Lance broke short: the beast then bellowed loud,  
And his strong neck to a new onset bowed.  
Th' undaunted youth—  
Then drew; and from his Saddle bending low,  
Just where the neck did to the shoulders grow,  
With his full force discharged a deadly blow.  
Not heads of Poppies, (when they reap the grain)  
Fall with more ease before the labouring Swain,  
Then fell this head:—  
It fell so quick, it did even death prevent:  
And made imperfect bellow as it went.  
Then all the Trumpets Victory did sound:  
And yet their clangors in our shouts were drowned.  A confused noise within. Boab. 
Th' Alarm-bell rings from our Alhambra walls,  
And, from the Streets, sound Drums, and Ataballes.  Within, a Bell, Drums & Trumpets. 
How now! from whence proceed these new alarms?  To them a Messenger. Mess. 
The two fierce factions are again in arms:  
And, changing into blood the day's delight,  
The Zegries with the Abencerrages fight,  
On each side their Allies and Friends appear;  
The Maças here, the Alabezes there:  
The Gazuls with the Bencerrages join,  
And, with the Zegries, all great Gomels' line.  Boab. 
Draw up behind the Vivarambla place;  
Double my guards, these factions I will face;  
And try if all the fury they can bring  
Be proof against the presence of their King:  Exit Boabdelin. The Factions appear; At the head of the Abencerrages, Ozmyn; at the head of the Zegries, Zulema, Hamet, Gomel, and Selin: Abenamat and Abdelmelech joined with the Abencerrages. Zulema. 
The faint Abencerrages quit their ground:  
Press 'em; put home your thrusts to every wound.  Abdelmelech. 
Zegry, on manly force our Line relies;  
Thine, poorly takes th' advantage of surprise.  
Unarmed, and much outnumbered we retreat  
You gain no fame, when basely you defeat:  
If thou art brave, seek nobler Victory;  
Save Moorish blood; and, while our bands stand by,  
Let two to two an equal combat try.  Hamet. 
'Tis not for fear the Combat we refuse;  
But we our gained advantage will not lose.  Zul. 
In combating, but two of you will fall;  
And we resolve we will dispatch you all.  Ozmyn. 
we'll double yet th'exchange before we die;  
And each of ours two lives of yours shall buy.  Almanzor enters betwixt them, as they stand ready to engage. Almanz. 
I cannot stay to ask which cause is best;  
But this is so to me because oppressed. Goes to the Abencerrages.  To them Boabdelin and his Guards going betwixt them. Boab. 
On your Allegiance, I command you stay;  
Who passes here, through me must make his way.  
My life's the Isthmos; through this narrow line  
You first must cut, before those Sea's can join.  
What fury, Zegrys, has possessed your minds,  
What rage the brave Abencerrages blinds?  
If, of your Courage you new proofs would show,  
Without much travel you may find a foe.  
Those foes are neither so remote nor few,  
That you should need each other to pursue.  
Lean times, and foreign Wars should minds unite,  
When poor, men mutter, but they seldom sight.  
O holy Alha, that I live to see  
Thy Granadins assist their Enemy.  
You fight the Christians battles; every life  
You lavish thus, in this intestine strife,  
Does from our weak foundations, take one prop  
Which helped to hold our sinking Country up.  Ozmyn. 
'Tis fit our private Enmity should cease;  
Though injured first, yet I will first seek peace.  Zulem. 
No, Murderer, no; I never will be won  
To peace with him whose hand has slain my Son.  Ozmyn. 
Our Prophet's curse—  
On me, and all th' Abencerrages light  
If unprovoked I with your Son did fight.  Abdelmel. 
A band of Zegry's ran within the Place,  
Matched with a Troop of thirty of our race.  
Your Son and Ozmyn the first squadrons led,  
Which, ten by ten, like Parthians, charged and fled.  
The Ground was strowed with Canes, where we did meet,  
Which crackled underneath our Courser's feet.  
When Tarifa, (I saw him ride apart)  
Changed his blunt Cane for a steel pointed Dart,  
And meeting Ozmyn next,  
Who wanted time for Treason to provide,  
He, basely, threw it at him, undefyed:  Ozmyn showing his arm▪ 
Witness this blood— which, when by Treason sought.  
That followed, Sir, which to myself I ought.  Zulema. 
His hate to thee was grounded on a grudge  
Which all our generous Zegries just did judge;  
Thy villain blood thou openly didst place  
Above the purple of our Kingly race.  Boabd. 
From equal Stems their blood both houses draw  
They from Morocco, you from Cordova.  Hamet. 
Their mongrel race is mixed with Christian breed  
Hence 'tis that they those Dogs in prisons feed.  Abdel. 
Our holy Prophet will, that Charity  
Should, even to birds and beasts extended be:  
None knows what fate is for himself designed;  
The thought of humane Chance should make us kind.  Gomel. 
We waste that time we to revenge should give:  
Fall on; let no Aboncerrago live. Advancing before the rest of his Party.  Almanzor, advancing on the other side; and describing a line with his sword. 
Upon thy life pass-not this middle space;  
Sure Death stands guarding the forbidden place.  Gomel. 
To dare that death, I will approach yet nigher.  
Thus, were't thou compassed in with circling fire.  They fight. Boab. 
Disarm 'em both; if they resist you, kill.  Almanzor, in the midst of the Guards kills Gomel, and then is disarmed. Almanz. 
Now, you have but the Leave of my will.  Boab. 
Kill him; this insolent Unknown shall fall,  
And be the Victim to atone you all.  Ozmyn. 
If he must die, not one of us will live,  
That life he gave for us, for him we give.  Boab. 
It was a Traitor's voice that spoke those words;  
So are you all, who do not sheathe your swords.  Zulema. 
Outrage unpunished when a Prince is by,  
Forfeits to scorn the rights of Majesty:  
No Subject his Protection can expect  
Who, what he owes himself, does first neglect.  Abenamar. 
This stranger, Sir is he,  
Who lately in the Vivarambla place  
Did, with so loud applause, your Triumphs grace.  Boab. 
The word which I have given, I'll not revoke;  
If he be brave he's ready for the stroke  Almanz. 
No man has more contempt than I, of breath;  
But whence hast thou the right to give me death?  
Obeyed as Sovereign by thy Subjects be,  
But know, that I alone am King of me.  
I am as free as Nature first made man  
‛ Ere the base Laws of Servitude began  
When wild in woods the noble Savage ran.  Boab. 
Since, then, no power above your own you know,  
Mankind should use you like a common foe,  
You should be hunted like a Beast of Prey;  
By your own law, I take your life away.  Almanz. 
My laws are made but only for my sake,  
No King against himself a Law can make.  
If thou pretendest to be a Prince like me,  
Blame not an Act which should thy Pattern be.  
I saw th' oppressed, and thought it did belong  
To a King's office to redress the wrong:  
I brought that Succour which thou oughtest to bring,  
And so, in Nature, am thy Subjects King.  Boab. 
I do not want your Council to direct,  
Or aid to help me punish or protect.  Almanz. 
Thou want'st 'em both, or better thou wouldst know  
Then to let Factions in thy Kingdom grow.  
Divided interests while thou thinkst to sway,  
Draw like two brooks thy middle stream away.  
For though they band, and jar, yet both combine  
To make their greatness by the fall of thine.  
Thus, like a buckler, thou art held in sight,  
While they, behind thee, with each other fight.  Boab. 
Away; and execute him instantly.  To his Guards. Almanz. 
Stand off; I have not leisure yet to die.  To them Abdalla hastily. Abdella. 
Hold, Sir, for Heaven sake hold.  
Defer this noble Strangers punishment,  
Or your rash orders you will soon repent.  Boab. 
Brother, you know not yet his insolence.  Abdal. 
Upon yourself you punish his offence:  
If we treat gallant Strangers in this sort,  
Mankind will shun th' inhospitable Court.  
And who, henceforth, to our defence will come,  
If death must be the brave Almanzor's doom?  
From Africa I drew him to your aid;  
And for his succour have his life betrayed.  Boab. 
Is this th' Almanzor whom at Fez you knew,  
When first their swords the Xeriff Brothers drew?  Abdalla. 
This, Sir, is he who for the Elder fought,  
And to the juster cause the Conquest brought:  
Till the proud Santo, seated in the Throne,  
Disdained the service he had done, to own:  
Then, to the vanquished part, his fate he led;  
The vanquished triumphed, and the Victor fled;  
Vast is his Courage; boundless is his mind,  
Rough as a storm, and humorous as wind;  
Honour's the only Idol of his Eyes:  
The charms of Beauty like a pest he flies:  
And, raised by Valour, from a birth unknwn.  
Acknowledges no power above his own.  Boabdelin coming to Almanzor. 
Impute your danger to our ignorance;  
The bravest men are subject most to chance.  
Granada much does to your kindness owe:  
But Towns, expecting Sieges, cannot show  
More honour, then t'invite you to a foe.  Almanzor. 
I do not doubt but I have been too blame:  
But, to pursue the end for which I came,  
Unite your Subjects first; then let us go,  
And pour their common rage upon the foe.  Boab. to the Factions. 
Lay down your Arms; and let me beg you cease  
Your Enmities.  Zulema. 
— We will not hear of peace,  
Till we by force have first revenged our slain:  Abdel. 
The Action we have done we will maintain:  Selin. 
Then let the King depart, and we will try  
Our cause by arms:  Zul. 
— For us and Victory.  Boab. 
A King entreats you.  Almanz. 
What Subjects will precarious King's regard:  
A Beggar speaks too softly to be heard:  
Lay down your Arms; 'tis I command you now.  
Do it— or by our Prophet's soul I vow,  
My hands shall right your King on him I seize.  
Now, let me see whose look but disobeys.  Omnes. 
Long live King Mahomet Boabdelin:  Alman. 
No more; but hushted as midnight silence go:  
He will not have your Acclamations now,  
Hence you unthinking Crowd—  The common people go off on both parties. 
Empire, thou poor and despicable thing,  
When such as these unmake, or make a King!  Abdalla. 
How much of virtue lies in one great Soul  embracing him. 
Whose single force can multitudes control!  A trumpet within. Enter a Messenger. Messen. 
The Duke of Arcos, Sir,—  
Does with a trumpet from the Foe appear.  Boab. 
Attend him, he shall have his Audience here.  Enter the Duke of Arcos. Arcos. 
The Monarches of Castille and Arragon  
Have sent me to you, to demand this Town:  
To which their just, and rightful claim is known.  Boab. 
Tell Ferdinand my right to it appears  
By long possession of eight hundred years.  
When first my Ancestors from Africa sailed,  
In Rodrigues death your Gothique title failed.  Arcos. 
The Successors of Rodrique still remain;  
And ever since have held some part of Spain.  
Even in the midst of your victorious powers  
Th' Asturia's, and all Portugal were ours.  
You have no right, except you force allow;  
And if yours then was just, so ours is now.  Boab. 
'Tis true; from force the noblest title springs;  
I therefore hold from that, which first made Kings.  Arcos. 
Since then by force you prove your title true,  
Ours must be just; because we claim from you.  
When with your Father you did jointly reign,  
Invading with your moors the South of Spain,  
I, who that day the Christians did command,  
Then took; and brought you bound to Ferdinand.  Boab. 
I'll hear no more; defer what you would say:  
In private we'll discourse some other day.  Arcos. 
Sir, you shall hear, however you are loath,  
That, like a perjured Prince, you broke your oath.  
To gain your freedom you a Contract signed,  
By which your Crown you to my King resigned.  
From thenceforth as his Vassal holding it,  
And paying tribute, such as he thought fit;  
Contracting, when your Father came to die,  
To lay aside all marks of Royalty:  
And at Purchena privately to live;  
Which, in exchange, King Ferdinand did give.  Boab. 
The force used on me, made that Contract void:  Arcos. 
Whey have you then its benefits enjoyed?  
By it you had not only freedom then,  
But since had aid of money and of men.  
And, when Granada for your Uncle held,  
You were by us restored, and he expelled.  
Since that, in peace we let you reap your grain,  
Recalled our Troops that used to beat your Plain,  
And more—  Almanz. 
Yes, yes, you did with wondrous care  
Against his Rebels prosecute the war,  
While he secure in your protection, slept,  
For him you took, but for yourselves you kept.  
Thus, as some fawning usurer does feed  
With present sums th'unwary Unthrifts need;  
You sold your kindness at a boundless rate,  
And then orepaid the debt from his Estate:  
Which, mouldering piecemeal, in you hands did fall;  
Till now at last you came to swoop it all.  Arcos. 
The wrong you do my King I cannot bear;  
Whose kindness you would odiously compare.  
Th' Estate was his; which yet, since you deny,  
He's now content in his own wrong to buy.  Almanz. 
And he shall buy it dear what his he calls  
We will not give one stone from out these Walls.  Boab. 
Take this for answer, then—  
What 'ere your arms have conquered of my land  
I will, for peace, resign to Ferdinand:  
To harder terms my mind I cannot bring;  
But as I still have lived, will die a King.  Arcos. 
Since thus you have resolved, henceforth prepare  
For all the last extremities of war:  
My King his hope from heaven's assistance draws:  Almanz. 
The Moors have Heaven and me t' assist their cause.  Exit Arcos. Enter Esperanza. Esper. 
Fair Almahide.  
(Who did with weeping eyes these discords see,  
And fears the omen may unlucky be:)  
Prepares a Zambra to be danced this Night,  
In hope soft pleasures may your minds unite.  Boab. 
My Mistress gently chides the fault I made:  
But tedious business has my love delayed;  
Business, which dares the joys of Kings invade.  Almanz. 
First let us sally out, and meet the foe:  Abdalla. 
Led on by you we to Triumph go.  Boab. 
Then, with the day let war and tumult cease:  
The night be sacred to our love and peace:  
'Tis just some joys on weary Kings shoul wait;  
'Tis all we gain by being slaves of State.  Exeunt omnes.  

ACT. II.  Abdalla, Abdelmelech, Ozmyn, Zulema, Hamet, as returning from the Sally. Abdal. 
THis happy day does to Granada bring  
A lasting peace; and triumphs to the King:  
The two fierce factions will no longer jar,  
Since they have now been brothers in the war:  
Those, who apart in Emulation fought,  
The common danger to one body brought;  
And to his cost the proud castilian finds  
Our Moorish Courage in united minds.  Abdelmel. 
Since to each others aid our lives we owe,  
Lose we the name of Faction and of foe,  
Which I to Zulema can bear no more,  
Since Lindaraxa's beauty I adore.  Zul. 
I am obliged to Linduraxa's charms  
Which gain the conquest I should lose by Arms;  
And wish my Sister may continue fair  
That I may keep a good,  
Of whose possession I should else despair.  Ozmyn. 
While we indulge our common happiness  
He is forgot by whom we all possess;  
The brave Almanzor to whose arms we owe  
All that we did, and all that we shall do;  
Who, like a Tempest that out rides the wind,  
Made a just battle 'ere the bodies joined.  Abdalla. 
His Victories we scarce could keep in view,  
Or polish 'em so fast as he rough drew.  Abdel. 
Fate after him, below with pain did move,  
And Victory could scarce keep pace above.  
Death did at length so many slain forget;  
And lost the tale, and took 'em by the great.  To them Almanzor, with the Duke of Arcos prisoner. Hamet. 
See here he comes,  
And leads in Triumph him who did command  
The vanquished Army of King Ferdinand:  Almanzor to the Duke of Arcos. 
Thus far your Master's arms a fortune find  
Below the swelled ambition of his mind:  
And Alha shuts a misbelievers reign  
From out the best and goodliest part of Spain.  
Let Ferdinand Calabriam Conquests make  
And from the French contested Milan take,  
Let him new worlds discover to the old,  
And break up shining Mountains big with Gold,  
Yet he shall find this small Domestic foe  
Still sharp, and pointed to his bosom grow.  Duke of Arc. 
Of small advantages too much you boast,  
You beat the outguards of my Master's host:  
This little loss in our vast body, shows  
So small, that half have never heard the news.  
Fame's out of breath 'ere she can fly so far  
To tell 'em all, that you have 'ere made war.  Almanz. 
It pleases me your Army is so great:  
For now I know there's more to conquer yet.  
By Heaven I'll see what Troops you have behind;  
I'll face this Storm that thickens in the wind:  
And, with bend forehead, full against it go,  
Till I have found the last and utmost foe.  Duke. 
Believe you shall not long attend in vain;  
To morrow's daun shall cover all your Plain.  
Bright Arms shall flash upon you from afar;  
A wood of Lances, and a moving war.  
But I, unhappy in my bands, must yet  
Be only pleased to hear of your defeat▪  
And, with a slaves inglorious ease remain,  
Till conquering Ferdinand has broke my chain.  Almanz. 
Vain man, thy hopes of Ferdinand are weak!  
I hold thy chain too fast for him to break.  
But since thou threatn'st us, I'll set thee free,  
That I again may fight and conquer thee.  Duke. 
Old as I am I take thee at thy word,  
And will tomorrow thank thee with my sword.  Almanz. 
I'll go and instantly acquaint the King:  
And sudden orders for thy freedom bring.  
Thou canst not be so pleased at Liberty,  
As I shall be to find thou dar'st be free.  Exeunt Almanzor, Arcos; and the rest; excepting only Abdalla and Zulema. Abdalla. 
Of all those Christians who infest this town,  
This Duke of Arcos is of most renown.  Zulema. 
Oft have I heard, that in your Father's reign,  
His bold Adventurers beat the Neighbouring Plain;  
Then, under Ponce Leon's name he fought,  
And from our Triumphs many Prizes brought.  
Till in disgrace, from Spain at length he went,  
And since, continued long in banishment.  Abdalla. 
But see, your beauteous Sister does appear.  To them Lindaraxa. Zulema. 
By my desire she came to find me here:  Zulema and Lindaraxa whisper; then Zulema goes out; and Lindaraxa is going after. Abdalla 
Why, fairest Lindaraxa, do you fly  staying her. 
A Prince, who at your feet is proud to die?  Lindaraxa. 
Sir I should blush to own so rude a thing,  staying. 
As 'tis to shun the Brother of my King.  Abdal. 
In my hard fortune I some ease should find  
Did your disdain extend to all Mankind.  
But give me leave to grieve, and to complain,  
That you give others what I beg in vain.  Lindar. 
Take my Esteem, if you on that can live,  
For, frankly, Sir, 'tis all I have to give.  
If, from my heart you ask or hope for more,  
I grieve the place is taken up before.  Abdal. 
My Rival merits you.  
To Abdelmelech I will Justice do,  
For he wants Worth who dares not praise a Foe.  Lind. 
That for his Virtue, Sir, you make defence,  
Shows in your own a Noble confidence:  
But him defending, and excusing me,  
I know not what can your advantage be.  Abdal. 
I fain would ask, ere I proceed in this,  
If, as by choice, you are by promise, his?  Lindar. 
Th'Engagement only in my Love does lie;  
But that's a knot which you can ne'er untie.  Abdal. 
When Cities are besieged and treat to yield,  
If there appear Relievers from the Field,  
The Flagg of Parley may be taken down,  
Till the success of those without be known.  Lindar. 
Though Abdelmelech has not yet possessed,  
Yet I have sealed the Treaty for my breast.  Abdal. 
Your Treaty has not tied you to a day,  
Some chance might break it, would you but delay:  
If I can judge the Secrets of your heart,  
Ambition in it has the greatest part;  
And wisdom than will show some difference  
Betwixt a private Person and a Prince.  Lindar. 
Princes are Subjects still:—  
Subject and Subject can small difference bring:  
The difference is 'twixt Subjects and a King.  
And since, Sir, you are none, your hopes remove;  
For less than Empire I'll not change my love.  Abdal. 
Had I a Crown, all I should prise in it,  
Should be the power to lay it at your feet.  Lin. 
Had you that Crown which you but wish not hope,  
Then I, perhaps, might stoop, and take it up.  
But till your wishes, and your hopes agree,  
You shall be still a private Man with me.  Abdall. 
If I am King, and if my Brother die—  Lindar. 
Two ifs, scarce make one possibility.  Abd. 
The rule of happiness by reason scan;  
You may be happy with a Private man.  Lindar. 
That happiness I may enjoy, 'tis true;  
But then that Private man must not be you.  
Where e'er I love, I'm happy in my choice;  
If I make you so, you shall pay my price.  Abdall. 
Why would you be so great?  Lindar. 
— Because I've seen  
This day, what 'tis to hope to be a Queen.  
Heaven, how y'all watched each motion of her Eye:  
None conld be seen while Almahide was by;  
Because she is to be her Majesty.  
Why would I be a Queen! because my Face  
Would wear the Title with a better grace.  
If I became it not, yet it would be  
Part of your duty, then, to Flatter me.  
These are not half the Charms of being great:  
I would be somewhat— that I know not yet:  
Yes; I avow th'ambition of my Soul,  
To be that one, to live without control:  
And that's another happiness to me  
To be so happy as but one can be.  Abdall. 
Madam, (because I would all doubts remove,)  
Would you, were I a King, accept my Love?  Lind. 
I would accept it; and to show 'tis true;  
From any other man as soon as you.  Abdall. 
Your sharp replies make me not love you less;  
But make me seek new paths to Happiness.  
What I design, by time will best be seen.  
You may be mine; and yet may be a Queen:  
When you are so, your Word your Love assures.  Lind. 
Perhaps not love you— but I will be yours.  He offers to take her hand and kiss it. 
Stay Sir; that grace I cannot yet allow;  
Before you set the Crown upon my Brow.  
That favour which you seek—  
Or Abdelmelech, or a King must have,  
When you are so, than you may be my slave.  Exit: but looks smiling back on him. Abdal. 
How 'ere imperious in her words she were,  
Her parting looks had nothing of severe.  
A glancing smile allured me to command;  
And her soft fingers gently pressed my hand.  
I felt the pleasure glide through every part;  
Her hand went through me to my very heart.  
For such another pleasure did he live,  
I could my Father of a Crown deprive.  
What did I say!  
Father! that impious thought has shocked my mind:  
How bold our Passions are, and yet how blind!  
She's gone; and now  
Methinks there is less glory in a Crown;  
My boiling passions settle and go down:  
Like Amber chafed, when she is near she acts,  
When farther off, inclines, but not attracts.  To him Zulema. 
Assist me, Zulema, if thou wouldst be  
That friend thou seem'st, assist me against me.  
Betwixt my love and virtue I am tossed;  
This must be forfeited or that be lost:  
I could do much to merit thy applause;  
Help me to fortify the better cause.  
My Honour is not wholly put to flight.  
But would, if seconded, renew the fight.  Zul. 
I met my sister; but I do not see  
What difficulty in your choice can be:  
She told me all; and 'tis so plain a case  
You need not ask, what council to embrace.  Abdalla. 
I stand reproved, that I did doubt at all;  
My waiting Virtue stayed but for thy call:  
'Tis plain that she who for a Kingdom, now  
Would sacrifice her love, and break her vow,  
Not out of Love but interest, acts alone,  
And would, Even in my arms, lie thinking of a throne.  Zulema. 
Add to the rest this one reflection more,  
When she is married, and you still adore,  
Think then, and think what comfort it will bring,  
She had been mine—  
Had I but only dared to be a King!  Abdalla. 
I hope you only would my honour try;  
I'm loath to think you virtue's enemy.  Zulema. 
If, when a Crown and Mistress are in place,  
Virtue intrudes with her lean holy face;  
Virtues than mine, and not I virtue's foe;  
Why does she come where she has nought to do?  
Let her with Anchorit's not with Lovers lie;  
Statesmen and they keep better Company.  Abdal. 
Reason was given to curb our headstrong will:  Zulema. 
Reason but shows a weak Physician's skill:  
Gives nothing while the raging fit does last.  
But stays to cure it when the worst is past.  
Reason's a staff for age, when Nature's gone;  
But Youth is strong enough to walk alone.  Abdall. 
In cursed ambition I no rest should find;  
But must for ever lose my peace of mind.  Zul. 
Methinks that peace of mind were bravely lost;  
A Crown, what be we give, is worth the cost.  Abdal. 
Justice distributes to each man his right,  
But what she gives not should I take by might?  Zulem. 
If Justice will take all and nothing give,  
Justice, methinks, is not distributive.  Abdal. 
Had fate so pleased, I had been elder born;  
And then, without a Crime, the Crown had worn.  Zul. 
Would you so please, Fate yet a way would find;  
Man makes his fate according to his mind.  
The weak low Spirit Fortune makes her slave;  
But she's a drudge, when Hectored by the brave.  
If Fate weaves common third, he'll change the doom:  
And with new purple spread a Nobler loom.  Abdal. 
No more;— I will usurp the Royal Seat;  
Thou who hast made me wicked, make me great.  Zulema. 
Your way is plain; the Death of Tarifa  
Does, on the King, our Zegry's hatred draw;  
Though with our Enemies in show we close,  
'Tis but while we to purpose can be foes.  
Selin, who heads us would revenge his Son;  
But favour hinders justice to be done.  
Proud Ozmyn with the king his power maintains:  
And, in him, each Abencerrago reigns.  Abdalla. 
What face of any title can I bring?  Zul. 
The right an eldest Son has to be King.  
Your Father was at first a private man;  
And got your brother 'ere his reign began.  
When, by his Valour, he the Crown had won,  
Then you were born, a Monarch's eldest Son.  Abdal. 
To sharp eyed reason this would seem untrue  
But reason, I through Love's false Optics view.  Zul. 
Love's mighty power has led me Captive too:  
I am in it, unfortunate as you.  Abdalla. 
Our Loves and fortunes shall together go,  
Thou shalt be happy when I first am so.  Zul. 
The Zegry's at old Selin's house are met;  
Where in close Council, for revenge they sit,  
There we our common interest will unite;  
You their revenge shall own, and they your right.  
One thing I had forgot which may import;  
I met Almanzor coming back from Court.  
But with a discomposed and speedy pace,  
A fiery colour kindling all his face:  
The King his Prisoners' freedom has denied:  
And that refusal has provoked his pride.  Abdal. 
Would he were ours!  
I'll try to gild th' injustice of the cause;  
And court his valour with a vast applause.  Zulema. 
The bold are but the Instruments o' th' wise:  
They undertake the dangers we advise.  
And while our fabric with their pains we raise,  
We take the profit, and pay them with praise.  Exeunt.  

ACT. III.  Almanzor, Abdalla. Alman. 
THat he should dare to do me this disgrace!  
Is Fool or Coward writ upon my face?  
Refuse my Prisoner! I such means will use  
He shall not have a Prisoner to refuse.  Abdal. 
He said you were not by your promise tied;  
That he absolved your word when he denied.  Almanz. 
He break my promise and absolve my vow!  
'Tis more than Mahomet himself can do.  
The word which I have given shall stand like Fate;  
Not like the King's, that weathercock of State.  
He stands so high, with so unfixt a mind,  
Two Factions turn him with each blast of wind.  
But now he shall not veer: my word is past:  
I'll take his Heart by th' roots, and hold it fast.  Abdal. 
You have your Vengeance in your hand this hour,  
Make me the humble Creature of your power:  
The Cranadins will gladly me obey;  
(Tired with so base and impotent a sway.)  
And when I show my Title, you shall see  
I have a better right to Reign, than he.  Almanz. 
It is sufficient that you make the claim:  
You wrong our Friendship when your Right you name.  
When for myself I fight, I weigh the cause;  
But Friendship will admit of no such Laws:  
That weighs by th'lump, and, when the cause is light,  
Puts kindness in to set the Balance right.  
True, I would wish my friend the juster side:  
But in th'unjust my kindness more is tried▪  
And all the opposition I can bring,  
Is, that I fear to make you such a King.  Abdal. 
The Majesty of Kings we should not blame,  
When Royal minds adorn the Royal name:  
The vulgar, greatness too much idolise,  
But haughty Subjects it too much despise.  Almanz. 
I only speak of him,  
Whom Pomp and Greatness sit so lose about,  
That he wants Majesty to fill 'em out.  Abdal. 
Haste, then, and lose no time—  
The business must be enterprised this night:  
We must surprise the Court in its delight.  Almanz. 
For you to Will, for me 'tis to obey;  
But I would give a Crown in open day:  
And, when the Spaniards their Assault begin,  
At once beat those without, and these within.  Exit Almanzo Enter Abdelmelech. Abdelm. 
Abdalla, hold; there's some what I intent  
To speak, not as your Rival, but your Friend.  Abdal. 
If as a Friend, I am obliged to hear;  
And what a Rival says I cannot fear.  Abdelm. 
Think, brave Abdalla, what it is you do:  
Your Quiet, Honour, and our Friendship too,  
All for a fickle Beauty you forego.  
Think, and turn back before it be too late;  
Behold, in me th' example of your Fate.  
I am your seamark, and though wracked and lost,  
My Ruins stand to warn you from the Coast.  Abdal. 
Your Counsels, noble Abdelmelech, move  
My reason to accept 'em; not my Love.  
Ah, why did Heaven leave Man so weak defence  
To trust frail reason with the rule of Sense!  
'Tis overpoised and kicked up in the Air,  
While sense weighs down the Scale; and keeps it there,  
Or, like a Captive King, 'tis born away:  
And forced to countenance it's own Rebel's sway.  Abdelm. 
No, no; our Reason was not vainly lent;  
Nor is a slave but by its own consent,  
If Reason on his Subjects Triumph wait,  
An easy King deserves no better Fate.  Abdal. 
You speak too late; my Empire's lost too far,  
I cannot fight.  Abdelm. 
— Then make a flying War,  
Dislodge betimes before you are beset.  Abdal. 
Her tears, her smiles, her every looks a Net.  
Her voice is like a Syren's of the Land;  
And bloody Hearts lie panting in her hand.  Abdelm. 
This do you know, and tempt the danger still?  Abdal. 
Love like a Lethargy has seized my Will.  
I'm, not myself, since from her sight I went;  
I lean my Trunk that way; and there stand bend.  
As one, who in some frightful Dream, would shun  
His pressing Foe, labours in vain to run;  
And his own slowness in his sleep bemoans,  
With thick short Sighs, weak Cries, and tender Groans,  
So I—  Abdelm. 
— Some Friend in Charity, should shake  
And rouse, and call you loudly till you wake.  
Too well I know her blandishments to gain,  
Usurper-like, till settled in her Reign;  
Then proudly she insults, and gives you cares  
And jealousies; short hopes, and long despairs.  
To this hard yoke you must hereafter bow;  
Howe'er she shines all Golden to you now.  Abdal. 
Like him, who on the ice—  
Slides swiftly on, and sees the water near,  
Yet cannot stop himself in his Carrear:  
So am I carried. This enchanted place,  
Like Cyrce's Isle, is peopled with a Race  
Of dogs and swine, yet, though their fate I know,  
I look with pleasure and am turning too.  Lyndaraxa passes over the Stage. Abdelm. 
Fly, fly, before th' allurements of her face;  
‛ Ere she return with some resistless grace,  
And with new magic covers all the place.  Abdalla. 
I cannot, will not; nay I would not fly;  
I'll love; be blind, be cozened till I die.  
And you, who bid me wiser Counsel take,  
I'll hate, and if I can, I'll kill you for her sake,  Abdel. 
Even I that counselled you, that choice approve,  
I'll hate you blindly, and her blindly love:  
Prudence, that stemmed the stream, is out of breath;  
And to go down it, is the easier death.  Lyndaraxa reenters and smiles on Abdalla. Exit Abdalla. Abdelm. 
That smile on Prince Abdalla, seems to say  
You are not in your kill mood to day,  
Men brand, indeed, your sex with Cruelty,  
But you're too good, to see poor Lovers die.  
This Godlike pity in you I extol;  
And more, because, like heavens, 'tis general.  Lynd. 
My smile implies not that I grant his suit:  
'Twas but a bare return of his salute.  Abdelm. 
It said, you were engaged and I in place:  
But to please both, you would divide the grace:  Lynd. 
You've cause to be contented with your part:  
When he has but the look, and you the heart.  Abdel. 
In giving but that look, you give what's mine:  
I'll not one corner of a glance resign:  
All's mine; and I am covetous of my store:  
I have not love enough; I'll tax you more.  Lindarax. 
I gave not love; 'twas but Civility,  
He is a Prince; that's due to his Degree.  Abdel. 
That Prince you smiled on is my Rival still:  
And should, if me you loved, be treated ill.  Lynd. 
I know not how to show so rude a spite.  Abdel. 
That is, you know not how to love aright;  
Or, if you did, you would more difference see  
Betwixt our Souls, then 'twixt our Quality.  
Mark if his birth makes any difference,  
If, to his words, it adds one grain of Sense:  
That duty which his birth can make his due  
I'll pay; but it shall not be paid by you.  
For if a Prince Courts her whom I adore,  
He is my Rival, and a Prince no more.  Lynd. 
And when did I my power so far resign,  
That you should regulate each Look of mine?  Abdel. 
Then, when you gave your Love you gave that power.  Lynd. 
'Twas during pleasure, 'tis revoked this hour.  
Now call me false, and rail on Womankind,  
'Tis all the remedy you're like to find.  Abdel. 
Yes, there's one more,  
I'll hate you; and this visit is my last.  Lynd. 
Do't, if you can; you know I hold you fast.  
Yet, for your quiet, would you could resign  
Your love, as easily as I do mine.  Abdel. 
Furies and Hell, how unconcerned she speaks!  
With what indifference all her Vows she breaks!  
Curse on me but she smiles.  Lynd. 
That smile's a part of Love; and all's your due:  
I take it from the Prince, and give it you.  Abdel. 
Just heaven, must my poor heart your May-game prove  
To bandy, and make children's play in Love. Half crying.  
Ah how have I this Cruelty deserved,  
I who so truly and so long have served!  
And left so easily! oh cruel Maid.  
So easily! 'twas too unkindly said.  
That Heart which could so easily remove,  
Was never fixed, nor rooted deep in Love.  Lynd. 
You Lodged it so uneasy in your Breast,  
I thought you had been weary of the Guest.  
First I was Treated like a stranger there;  
But, when a Household Friend I did appear,  
You thought, it seems, I could not live elsewhere.  
Then, by degrees, your feigned respect withdrew:  
You marked my Actions; and my Guardian grew.  
But, I am not concerned your Acts to blame:  
My heart to yours, but upon liking came.  
And, like a Bird, whom prying Boys molest,  
Stays not to Breed, where she had built her Nest.  Abdel. 
I have done ill—  
And dare not ask you to be less displeased:  
Be but more Angry, and my Pain is eased.  Lynd. 
If I should be so kind a Fool to take  
This little Satisfaction which you make,  
I know you would presume some other time  
Upon my Goodness, and repeat your Crime.  Abdel. 
Oh never, never: upon no pretence:  
My Life's too short to expiate this Offence.  Lynd. 
No; now I think on't, 'tis in vain to try;  
'Tis in your Nature, and past remedy.  
You'll still disquiet my too loving Heart:  
Now we are friends 'tis best for both to part.  Taking her Hand. Abdel. 
By this— will you not give me leave to swear?  Lind. 
You would be perjured if you should I fear.  
And when I talk with Prince Abdalla next  
I with your fond Suspicions shall be vexed.  Abdel. 
I cannot say I'll conquer Jealousy:  
But if you'll freely pardon me, I'll try.  Lynd. 
And, till you that submissive Servant prove,  
I never can conclude you truly love.  To them, the King, Almahide, Abenamar, Esperanza, Guards, Attendants. King. 
Approach, my Almahide, my charming fair;  
Blessing of Peace, and recompense of War.  
This Night is yours; and may your Life still be  
The same in Joy, though not Solemnity.  The Zambra Dance. After the Dance, a tumultuous noise of Drums and Trumpets. To them Ozmyn; his Sword drawn. Oz. 
Arm, quickly, arm, yet all, I fear too late:  
The Enemy's already at the Gate.  K. Boab. 
The Christians are dislodged; what Foe is near?  Ozm. 
The Zegry's are in Arms, and almost here.  
The Streets with Torches shine, with Shouting ring,  
And Prince Abdalla is proclaimed the King.  
What Man could do I have already done,  
But Bold Almanzor fiercely leads 'em on.  Abenam. 
Th' Alhambra yet is safe in my Command,  To the King. 
Retreat you thither while their shock we stand.  Boab. 
I cannot meanly for my life provide:  
I'll either perish in't, or stem this Tide.  
To guard the Palace, Ozmyn, be your care.  
If they o'ercome, no sword will hurt the fair.  Ozm. 
I'll either die, or I'll make good the place.  Abdel. 
And I, with these, will bold Almanzor face.  Exeunt all but the Ladies. a Alarm within. Almah. 
What dismal Planet did my Triumphs light:  
Discord the Day, and Death does rule the Night:  
The noise, my Soul does through my Senses wound.  Lynd. 
Me thinks it is a noble, sprightly Sound.  
The Trumpets clangor, and the clash of Arms!  
This noise may i'll your Blood, but mine it warms:  Shouting and clashing of Swords within. 
We have already past the Rubicon.  
The Dice are mine: now Fortune for a Throne.  A shout within, and clashing of swords afar off. 
The sound goes farther off; and faintly dies,  
Curse of this going back, these ebbing cries!  
Ye Winds waft hither sounds more strong, and quick:  
Beat faster, Drums, and mingle Deaths more thick.  
I'll to the Turrets of the Palace go,  
And add new fire to those that fight below.  
Thence, Hero-like, with Torches by my side,  
(Farr be the Omen, though,) my Love I'll guide.  
No; like his better Fortune I'll appear:  
With open Arms, loose vail, and flowing Hair,  
Just flying forward from my rolling Sphere.  
My Smiles shall make Abdalla more than Man;  
Let him look up and perish if he can. Exit.  An Alarm, nearer: then Enter Almanzor; and Selin, in the head of the Zegries. Ozmyn Prisoner. Almanz. 
We have not fought enough; they fly too soon:  
And I am grieved the noble sport is done.  
This only man of all whom chance did bring  Pointing to Ozmyn. 
To meet my Arms, was worth the Conquering.  
His brave resistance did my Fortune grace;  
So slow, so threatening forward he gave place.  
His Chains be easy and his Usage fair.  Selin. 
I beg you would commit him to my care.  Alm. 
Next, the brave Spaniard free without delay:  
And with a Convoy send him safe away.  Exit. a Guard. To them. Hamet and others. Hamet. 
The King by me salutes you: and, to show  
That to your Valour he his Crown does owe,  
Would, from your Mouth I should the Word receive;  
And, that to these, you would your Orders give.  Alm. 
He much o're-rates the little I have done.  Almanzor goes to the door, and there seems to give out Orders, by sending People several ways. Selin to Ozmin. 
Now to revenge the Murder of my Son.  
To morrow for thy certain death prepare:  
This night I only leave thee to despair.  Ozmyn. 
Thy idle Menaces I do not fear:  
My business was to die, or conquer here.  
Sister, for you I grieve I could no more:  
My present State betrays my want of power.  
But, when true Courage is of force bereft,  
Patience, the noblest Fortitude, is left.  Exit cum Selin. Alma. 
Ah, Esperanza, what for me remains  
But Death; or, worse than Death, inglorious Chains!  Esper. 
Madam, you must not to Despair give place;  
Heaven never meant misfortune to that Face.  
Suppose there were no justice in your cause,  
Beauty's a Bribe that gives her Judge's Laws.  
That you are brought to this deplored estate,  
Is but th' ingenious Flattery of your Fate;  
Fate fears her Succour like an Alms to give:  
And would, you, Godlike from yourself should live.  Almah. 
Mark but how terrible his Eyes appear!  
And yet there's something roughly noble there,  
Which, in unfashioned Nature, looks Divine;  
And like a Gemm does in the Quarry shine.  Almanzor returns; she falls at his feet being veyld. Almah. 
Turn, Mighty conqueror, turn your Face this way,  
Do not refuse to hear the wretched prey.  Almanz. 
What business can this Woman have with me?  Almah. 
That of th' afflicted to the Deity.  
So may your Arms success in battles find:  
So may the Mistress of your vows be kind,  
If you have any; or, if you have none,  
So may your Liberty be still your own.  Almanz. 
Yes, I will turn my face; but not my mind:  
You bane, and soft destruction of mankind,  
What would you have with me?  Almahide. 
— I beg the grace unveyling.  
You would lay by those terrors of your face.  
Till calmness to your eyes you first restore  
I am afraid, and I can beg no more.  Almanzor looking fixedly on her. 
Well; my fierce visage shall not murder you:  
Speak quickly, woman; I have much to do.  Almah. 
Where should I find the heart to speak one word,  
Your voice, Sir, is as killing as your sword.  
As you have left the lightning of your eye,  
So would you please to lay your thunder by!  Alman. 
I'm pleased and pained since first her eyes I saw,  
As I were stung with some Tarantula:  
Arms, and the dusty field I less admire;  
And soften strangely in some new desire.  
Honour burns in me, not so fiercely bright;  
But pale, as fires when mastered by the light.  
Even while I speak and look, I change yet more;  
And now am nothing that I was before.  
I'm numbed, and fixed and scarce my eye balls move;  
I fear it is the Lethargy of Love!  
'Tis he; I feel him now in every part:  
Like a new Lord he vaunts about my Heart,  
Surveys in state each corner of my Breast,  
While poor fierce I, that was, am dispossessed.  
I'm bound; but I will rouse my rage again:  
And, though no hope of Liberty remain,  
I'll fright my Keeper when I shake my chain.  
You are— angrily. Almah.  Almah. 
— I know I am your Captive, Sir:  Alman. 
You are— You shall— And I can scarce forbear—  Almah. 
Alas!  Almanz. 
— 'Tis all in vain; it will not do: aside.  
I cannot now a seeming anger show:  
My Tongue against my heart no aid affords,  
For Love still rises up, and chokes my words.  Almah. 
In half this time a tempest would be still.  Almanz. 
'Tis you have raised that tempest in my will,  
I wonot love you, give me back my heart.  
But give it as you had it, fierce and brave:  
It was not made to be a woman's slave:  
But Lion-like has been in deserts bred;  
And, used to range, will ne'er be tamely led.  
Restore its freedom to my fettered will  
And then I shall have power, to use you ill.  Almah. 
My sad condition may your pity move;  
But look not on me with the eyes of Love.—  
I must be brief, though I have much to say.  Almanz. 
No, speak: for I can hear you now, all day.  
Her suing soothes me with a secret pride: softly.  
A suppliant beauty cannot be denied: aside.  
Even while I frown, her charms the furrows seize;  
And I'm corrupted with the power to please.  Almah. 
Though in your worth no cause of fear I see;  
I fear the insolence of Victory:  
As you are Noble, Sir, protect me then,  
From the rude outrage of insulting men.  Almanz. 
Who dares touch her I love? I'm all o'er love:  
Nay, I am Love; Love shot, and shot so fast,  
He shot himself into my breast at last.  Almah. 
You see before you, her who should be Queen,  
Since she is promised to Boabdelin.  Almanz. 
Are you beloved by him! O wretched fate,  
First that I love at all; then, love too late!  
Yet, I must love!  Almah. 
— Alas it is in vain;  
Fate for each other did not us ordain.  
The chances of this day too clearly show  
That Heaven took care that it should not be so.  Almanz. 
Would Heaven had quite forgot me this one day,  
But fate's yet hot—  
I'll make it take a bend another way. He walks swiftly and discomposedly studying.  
I bring a claim which does his right remove:  
You're his by promise, but you're mine by Love.  
'Tis all but Ceremony which is past:  
The knots to tie which is to make you fast.  
Fate gave not to Boabdelin that power:  
He wooed you, but as my Ambassador.  Almah. 
Our Souls are tied by holy Vows above.  Almanz. 
He signed but his: but I will seal my love.  
I love you better; with more Zeal than he.  Almah. 
This day—  
I gave my faith to him, he his to me.  Almanz. 
Good Heaven thy book of fate before me lay,  
But to tear out the journal of this day.  
Or, if the order of the world below  
Will not the gap of one whole day allow,  
Give me that Minute when she made her vow.  
" That Minute, even the happy, from their bliss might give:  
" And those who live in grief, a shorter time would live.  
So small a link, if broke, th' eternal chain  
Would, like divided waters, join again.  
It wonot be; the fugitive is gone;  
Pressed by the crowed of following Minutes on:  
That precious Moment's out of Nature fled:  
And in the heap of common rubbish laid,  
Of things that once have been, and are decayed.  Almah. 
Your passion, like a fright suspends my pain:  
It meets, ' ore-powrs, and bears mine back again.  
But, as when tides against the Current flow,  
The Native stream runs its own course below:  
So, though your griefs possess the upper part,  
My own have deeper Channels in my heart.  Almanz. 
Forgive that fury which my Soul does move,  
'Tis the Essay of an untaught first love.  
Yet rude, unfashioned truth it does express:  
'Tis love just peeping in a hasty dress.  
Retire, fair Creature to your needful rest;  
There's something noble, labouring in my breast:  
This raging fire which through the Mass does move,  
Shall purge my dross, and shall refine my Love.  Exeunt Almahide, and Esperanza. 
She goes; And I, like my own Ghost appear:  
It is not living, when she is not here.  To him Abdalla as King, attended. Abdal. 
My first acknowledgements to heaven are due:  
My next, Almanzor, let me pay to you.  Alm. 
A poor surprise and on a naked foe.  
What ever you confess, is all you owe.  
And I no merit own or understand  
That fortune did you justice by my hand.  
Yet, if you will that little service pay  
With a great favour, I can show the way.  Abdal. 
I have a favour to demand of you;  
That is to take the thing for which you sue.  Alman. 
Then, briefly, thus; when I th' Albayzyn won,  
I found the Beauteous Almahide alone:  
Whose sad condition did my pity move:  
And that compassion did produce my love.  Abdal. 
This needs no suit; in justice, I declare  
She is your Captive by the right of war.  Alm. 
She is no Captive, then; I set her free.  
And rather than I will her Jailor be,  
‛ I'll Nobly lose her, in her liberty.  Abdal. 
Your generosity I much approve,  
But your excess of that, shows want of Love.  Alman. 
No, 'tis th' excess of love, which mounts so high  
That, seen far off, it lessens to the eye.  
Had I not loved her, and had set her free  
That, Sir, had been my generosity:  
But 'tis exalted passion when I show  
I dare be wretched not to make her so.  
And, while another Passion fills her breast,  
I'll be all wretched rather then half blessed.  Abdalla. 
May your heroic Act so prosperous be,  
That Almahide may sigh you set her free.  Enter Zulema. Zulema, 
Of five tall towers which fortify this Town,  
All but th' Alhambra your dominion own.  
Now therefore boldly I confess a flame  
Which is excused in Almahida's name.  
If you the merit of this night regard,  
In her possession I have my reward.  Almanz. 
She your reward! why she's a gift so great—  
That I myself have not deserved her yet.  
And therefore, though I won her with my sword,  
I have, with awe, my sacrilege restored.  Zul. 
What you deserve—  
I'll not dispute because I do not know,  
This, only I will say, she shall not go.  Almanz. 
Thou, single, art not worth my answering,  
But take what friends, what armies thou canst bring;  
What worlds; and when you are united all,  
Then, I will thunder in your ears,— she shall.  Zul. 
I'll not one tittle of my right resign;  
Sir, your implicit promise made her mine.  
When I in general terms my love did show,  
You swore our fortunes should together go.  Abdalla. 
The merits of the cause I'll not decide,  
But, like my love, I would my gift divide.  
Your equal titles, then, no longer plead;  
But one of you, for love of me recede.  Alm. 
I have receded to the utmost line,  
When, by my free consent, she is not mine.  
Then let him equally recede with me,  
And both of us will join to set her free.  Zul. 
If you will free your part of her you may▪  
But, Sir, I love not your Romantique way.  
Dream on; enjoy her Soul; and set that free;  
I'm pleased her person should be left for me.  Alman. 
Thou shalt not wish her thine; thou shalt not dare  
To be so impudent, as to despair.  Zul. 
The Zegries, Sir, are all concerned to see  
How much their merit you neglect in me.  Hamet. 
Your slighting Zulema, this very hour  
Will take ten thousand Subjects from you're power.  Almanz. 
What are ten thousand subjects such as they;  
If I am scorned— I'll take myself away.  Abdalla. 
Since both cannot possess what both pursue;  
I grieve, my friend, the chance should fall on you.  
But when you hear what reasons I can urge—  Almanz. 
None, none that your ingratitude can purge.  
Reason's a trick, when it no grant affords:  
It stamps the face of Majesty on words.  Abdal. 
Your boldness to your services I give:  
Now take it as your full reward to live.  Almanz. 
To live!  
If from thy hands alone my death can be,  
I am immortal; and a God, to thee.  
If I would kill thee now, thy fate's so low  
That I must stoop 'ere I can give the blow.  
But mine is fixed so far above thy Crown,  
That all thy men  
Piled on thy back can never pull it down.  
But at my ease thy destiny I send,  
By ceasing from this hour to be thy friend.  
Like Heaven I need but only to stand still;  
And, not concurring to thy life, I kill,  
Thou canst not title to my duty bring:  
I'm not thy Subject, and my Soul's thy King.  
Farewell, when I am gone  
There's not a star of thine dare stay with thee:  
I'll whistle thy tame fortune after me.  
And whirl fate with me wheresoever I fly,  
As winds drive storms before 'em in the sky.  Exit. Zulema. 
Let not this Insolent unpunished go;  
Give your Commands; your Justice is too slow.  Zulema, Hamet and others, are going after him. Abdal. 
Stay: and what part he pleases let him take;  
I know my Throne's too strong for him to shake.  
But my fair Mistress I too long forget:  
The Crown I promised is not offered yet.  
Without her presence, all my Joys are vain;  
Empire a Curse; and life itself a pain.  Exeunt.  

ACT. IU.  Boabdelin, Abenamar, Guards. Boab. 
Advice, or aid, but do not pity me;  
No Monarch born can fall to that degree.  
Pity descends from Kings to all below;  
But can no more than fountains upward flow.  
Witness just heaven, my greatest grief has been  
I could not make your Almahide a Queen.  Aben. 
I have too long th' effects of Fortune known,  
Either to trust her smiles, or fear her frown.  
Since in their first attempt you were not slain,  
Your safety bodes you yet a second reign.  
The people, like a headlong torrent go;  
And, every dam, they break, or overflow:  
But unopposed, they either lose their force,  
Or wind in volumes to their former course.  Boab. 
In walls we meanly must our hopes enclose,  
To wait our friends, and weary out our foes,  
While Almahide  
To lawless Rebels is exposed a prey,  
And forced the lustful Victor to obey.  Aben. 
One of my blood, in rules of Virtue bred!  
Think better of her; and I believe she's dead.  To them Almanzor. Boab. 
We are betrayed; the Enemy is here;  
We have no farther room to hope or fear.  Almanz. 
It is indeed Almanzor whom you see,  
But he no longer is your Enemy.  
You were ungrateful, but your foes were more;  
What your injustice lost you, theirs restore.  
Make profit of my vengeance while you may,  
My two-edged sword can cut the other way.  
I am your fortune; but am swift like her,  
And turn my hairy front if you defer:  
That hour when you delib'rate is too late:  
I point you the white moment of your fate.  Aben. 
Believe him sent as Prince Abdalla's spy;  
He would betray us to the Enemy.  Alman. 
Were I like thee, in cheats of State grown old,  
(Those public Markets were for foreign gold  
The poorer Prince is to the Richer sold;)  
Then thou mightst think me fit for that low part:  
But I am yet to learn the Statesman's art.  
My kindness and my hate unmasked I wear;  
For friends to trust, and Enemies to fear.  
My hearts so plain,  
That men on every passing thought may look,  
Like fishes gliding in a Crystal brook:  
When troubled most, it does the bottom show,  
'Tis weedless all above; and rockless all below.  Aben. 
‛ Ere he be trusted let him first be tried,  
He may be false who once has changed his side.  Almanz. 
In that you more accuse yourselves than me:  
None who are injured can unconstant be.  
You were unconstant; you who did the wrong;  
To do me justice does to me belong.  
Great Souls by kindness only can be tied;  
Injured again, again I'll leave your side.  
Honour is what myself and friends I owe;  
And none can lose it who forsake a foe.  
Since, then, your Foes now happen to be mine,  
Though not in friendship we'll in interest join.  
So while my loved revenge is full and high,  
I'll give you back your Kingdom by the by.  Boabdelin embracing him. 
That I so long delayed what you desire  
Was not to doubt your worth, but to admire.  Alman. 
This Councillor an old man's caution shows,  
Who fears that little he has left, to lose:  
Age sets to fortune; while youth boldly throws.  
But let us first your drooping Soldiers cheer:  
Then seek out danger, 'ere it dare appear.  
This hour I fix your Crown upon your brow,  
Next hour fate gives it; but I give it now.  Exeunt. 

SCENE II.  Lindaraxa alone. 
O could I read the dark decrees of fate,  
That I might once know whom to love or hate!  
For I myself scarce my own thoughts can guess,  
So much I find 'em varied by success.  
As in some wether-glass my Love I hold;  
Which falls or rises with the heat or cold.  
I will be constant yet, if fortune can;  
I love the King: let her but name the Man.  To her Halyma. Hal. 
Madam, a Gentleman to me unknown  
Desires that he may speak with you alone.  Lind. 
Some Message from the King: let him appear.  To her Abdelmelech: who, Entering, throws off his Disguise. She starts: Abdelm. 
I see you are amazed that I am here.  
But let at once your Fear and Wonder end;  
In the Usurpers Guard I found a Friend,  
Who led me to you safe in this Disguise.  Lind. 
Your Danger brings this Trouble in my Eyes.  
But what affair this venturous visit drew?  Abdel. 
The greatest in the world; the seeing you.  Lind. 
The Courage of your Love I so admire  
That to preserve you, you shall strait retire.  She leads him to the door. 
Go, Dear, each Minute does new dangers bring;  
You will be taken; I expect the King.  Abdal. 
The King! the poor Usurper of an Hour,  
His Empire's but a Dream of Kingly Power.  
I warn you, as a Lover and a Friend,  
To leave him ere his short Dominion end.  
The Soldier I suborned will wait at night;  
And shall alone be conscious of your flight.  Lind. 
I thank you that you so much care bestow.  
But, if his Reign be short, I need not go.  
For why should I expose my life and yours,  
For what, you say, a little time assures?  Abdel. 
My danger in th' attempt is very small:  
And, if he loves you, yours is none at all.  
But, though his Ruin be as sure as Fate,  
Your proof of Love to me would come too late.  
This Trial, I in Kindness would allow;  
'Tis easy, if you love me, show it now.  Lind. 
It is because I love you, I refuse:  
For all the World my Conduct would accuse  
If I should go, with him I love, away:  
And therefore, in strict Virtue, I will stay.  Abdel. 
You would in vain dissemble Love to me▪  
Through that thinn Veil your Artifice I see.  
You would expect th' event, and then declare:  
But do not, do not drive me to despair.  
For if you now refuse with me to fly,  
Rather than love you after this, I'll die.  
And therefore weigh it well before you speak;  
My King is safe; his force within not weak.  Lind. 
The Counsel you have given me, may be wise:  
But, since th'affair is great, I will advise.  Abdel. 
Then that delay, I for denial take.— is going.  Lynd. 
Stay; you too swift an Exposition make.  
If I should go, since Zulema will stay,  
I should my Brother to the King betray.  Abdel. 
There is no fear: but, if there were, I see  
You value still your Brother more than me.  
Farewell; some ease I in your falsehood find;  
It lets a Beam in, that will clear my mind.  
My former weakness I with shame, confess:  
And when I see you next shall love you less.  (Is going again.) Lynd. 
Your faithless dealing you may blush to tell.  Weeping. 
This is a Maids Reward who loves too well.  He looks back. 
Remember that I drew my latest breath  
In charging your unkindness with my death.  Abdel. coming back. 
Have I not answered all you can invent  
Even the least shadow of an Argument?  Lind. 
You want not cunning what you please to prove;  
But my poor Heart knows only how to Love.  
And, finding this, you Tyrannize the more:—  
'Tis plain, some other Mistress you adore:  
And now, with studied tricks of subtlety,  
You come prepared to lay the fault on me.  Wring her hands. 
But oh, that I should love so false a man!  Abdel. 
Hear me; and then disprove it, if you can.  Lind. 
I'll hear no more; your breach of Faith is plain.  
You would with Wit, your want of Love maintain.  
But, by my own Experience, I can tell,  
They who love truly cannot argue well.  
Go Faithless Man!  
Leave me alone to mourn my Misery:  
I cannot cease to love you, but I'll die.  (Leans her Head on his Arm.) Abdelmelech weeping. Abdel. 
What Man but I so long unmoved could hear  
Such tender passion, and refuse a Tear!  
But do not talk of dying any more,  
Unless you mean that I should die before.  Lind. 
I fear your feigned Repentance comes too late:  
I die to see you still thus obstinate.  
But yet, in Death, my truth of Love to show,  
Led me; if I have strength enough, I'll go.  Abdel. 
By Heaven you shall not go: I will not be  
O'ercome in Love or Generosity.  
All I desire, to end th' unlucky strife,  
Is but a Vow that you will be my Wife.  Lind. 
To tie me to you by a Vow, is hard;  
It shows, my Love, you as no Tie regard.  
Name any thing but that, and I'll agree.  Abdel. 
Swear then, you never will my Rival's be.  Lind. 
Nay, prithee, this is harder than before;  
Name any thing, good Dear, but that thing more.  Abdel. 
Now I too late perceive I am undone:  
Living and seeing, to my Death I run.  
I know you false; yet in your Snares I fall;  
You grant me nothing; and I grant you all.  Lind. 
I would grant all; but I must curb my will:  
Because I love to keep you jealous still.  
In your Suspicion I your Passion find:  
But I will take a time to cure your mind.  Halyma. 
Oh, Madam, the new King is drawing near!  Lind. 
Hast quickly hence; lest he should find you here.  Abdel. 
How much more wretched than I came, I go:  
I more my Weakness, and your Falsehood know;  
And now must leave you with my greatest Foe!  Exit Abdelmelech. Lynd. 
Go; how I love thee Heaven can only tell.  
And yet I love thee, for a Subject, well.—  
Yet, whatsoever Charms a Crown can bring,  
A Subject's greater than a little King.  
I will attend till Time this Throne secure;  
And, when I climb, my footing shall be sure.  Music without. 
Music! and I, believe, addressed to me.  

SONG.  

1.  
WHerever I am, and whatever I do;  
My Phillis is still in my mind:  
When angry I mean not to Phillis to go,  
My Feet of themselves the way find:  
Unknown to myself I am just at her door,  
And when I would rail, I can bring out no more,  
Than Phillis too fair and unkind!   

2.  
When Phillis I see, my Heart bounds in my Breast,  
And the Love I would stifle is shown:  
But asleep, or awake, I am never at rest  
When from my Eyes Phillis is gone!  
Sometimes a sad Dream does delude my sad mind,  
But, alas, when I wake and no Phillis I find  
How I sigh to myself all alone.   

3.  
Should a King be my Rival in her I adore  
He should offer his Treasure in vain:  
O let me alone to be happy and poor,  
And give me my Phillis again:  
Let Phillis be mine, and but ever be kind  
I could to a Desert with her be confined,  
And envy no Monarch his Reign.   

4.  
Alas, I discover too much of my Love,  
And she too well knows her own power!  
She makes me each day a new Martyrdom prove,  
And makes me grow jealous each hour:  
But let her each minute torment my poor mind  
I had rather love Phillis both False and Unkind,  
Then ever be freed from her Power.    Abdalla enters with Guards. Abdal. 
Now, Madam, at your Feet, a King you see:  
Or, rather, if you please, a Sceptered Slave;  
'Tis just you should possess the power you gave.  
Had Love not made me yours, I yet had been  
But the first Subject to Boabdelin.  
Thus Heaven declares the Crown I bring, your due:  
And had forgot my Title, but for you.  Lynd. 
Heaven to your Merits will, I hope be kind;  
But, Sir, it has not yet declared its mind.  
'Tis true, it holds the Crown above your Head;  
But does not fix it till your Brother's dead.  Abdal. 
All, but th' Alhambra, is within my power.  
And that, my forces go to take this hour.  Lynd. 
When, with its Keys, your Brother's Head you bring  
I shall believe you are indeed a King.  Abdal. 
But, since th'events of all things doubtful are,  
And, of Events, most doubtful those of War,  
I beg to know before, if Fortune frown,  
Must I then lose your Favour with my Crown?  Lynd. 
You'll soon return a Conqueror again;  
And therefore, Sir, your question is in vain.  Abdall. 
I think to certain Victory I move;  
But you may more assure it by your Love.  
That grant will make my arms invincible.  Lynd. 
My prayers and wishes your success foretell.  
Go then, and fight, and think you fight for me;  
I wait but to reward your Victory.  Abdal. 
But if I lose it, must I lose you too?  Lynd. 
You are too curious if you more would know.  
I know not what my future thoughts, will be:  
Poor women's thoughts are all Extempore.  
Wise men, indeed,  
Before hand a long chain of thoughts produce;  
But ours are only for our present use.  Abdal. 
Those thoughts you will not know, too well declare  
You mean to wait the final doom of Warr.  Lynd. 
I find you come to quarrel with me now:  
Would you know more of me then I allow?  
Whence are you grown that great Divinity  
That with such ease into my thoughts can pry?  
Indulgence does not with some tempers suit;  
I see I must become more absolute.  Abdalla. 
I must submit;  
On what hard terms so ere my peace be bought.  Lynd. 
Submit! you speak as you were not in fault?  
'Tis evident the injury is mine;  
For why should you my secret thoughts divine?  Abdal. 
Yet if we might be judged by Reason's Laws!  Lynd. 
Then you would have your reason judge my cause?  
Either confess your fault or hold your tongue;  
For I am sure I'm never in the wrong.  Abdalla. 
Then I acknowledge it.  Lynd. 
— Then I forgive.  Abdall. 
Under how hard a Law poor Lovers live!  
Who, like the vanquished, must their right release:  
And with the loss of reason, buy their peace. aside.  
Madam, to show that you my power command,  
I put my life and safety in your hand:  
Dispose of the Albayzin as you please:  
To your fair hands I here resign the keys.  Lyn. 
I'take your gift because your love it shows;  
And faithful Selin for Alcalde choose.  Abdall. 
Selin, from her alone your Orders take:  
This one request, yet, Madam, let me make  
That, from those turrets, you th' assault will see;  
And Crown, once more, my arms with Victory.  Leads her out. Selin remains with Gazul and Reduan his Servants. Selin. 
Gazul, go tell my daughter that I wait:  
You, Reduan, bring the Prisoner to his fate. Exeunt Gazul and Reduan.  
‛ E'er of my charge I will possession take,  
A bloody sacrifice I mean to make:  
The Manes of my son shall smile this day,  
While I in blood my Vows of Vengeance pay.  Enter, at one door Benzayda with Gazul, at the other Ozmyn bound, with Reduan. Selyn. 
I sent, Benzaida, to glad your eyes:  
These rites we owe your brother's Obsequies.  To Gazul. and Reduan. 
You two th' accursed Abencerrago bind,  
You need no more t' instruct you in my mind.  They bind him to one corner of the Stage. Benz. 
In what sad Object am I called to share,  
Tell me, what is it, Sir, you here prepare.  Selin. 
'Tis, what your dying brother did bequeath,  
A Scene of Vengeance, and a Pomp of death.  Benz. 
The horrid Spectacle my Soul does fright;  
I want the heart to see the dismal sight.  Selin. 
You are my principal invited guest:  
Whose eyes I would not only feed but feast:  
You are to smile at his last groaning breath,  
And laugh to see his eyeballs roll in death:  
To judge the lingering Souls convulsive strife;  
When thick short breath, catches at parting life.  Benz. 
And of what Marble do you think me made?  Selin. 
What, can you be of just revenge afraid?  Benz. 
He killed my Brother in his wone defence,  
Pity his youth, and spare his innocence.  Selin. 
Art thou so soon, to pardon murder, won?  
Can he be innocent who killed my son?  
Abenamar shall mourn as well as I;  
His Ozmyn for my Tarifa shall die.  
But, since thou plead'st so boldly; I will see  
That Justice thou wouldst hinder, done by thee:  Gives her his sword. 
Here, take the sword; and do a Sister's part;  
Pierce his fond Girl; Or I will pierce thy heart.  Ozmyn. 
To his commands I join my own request,  
All wounds from you are welcome to my breast:  
Think only when your hand this act has done,  
It has but finished what your eyes begun.  
I thought, with silence to have scorned my doom;  
But now your noble pity has o'ercome:  
Which I acknowledge with my latest breath;  
The first who 'ere began a love in death.  Benz. to Selin. 
Alas, what aid can my weak hand afford;  
You see I tremble when I touch a sword?  
The brightness dazzles me; and turns my sight:  
Or, if I look, 'tis but to aim less right.  Ozmy. 
I'll guide the hand which must my death convey  
My leaping heart shall meet it half the way.  Selin to Benz. 
Waste not the precious time in idle breath.  Benz. 
Let me resign this instrument of death.  giving the sword to her father; and then pulling it back. 
Ah, no: I was too hasty to resign;  
'Tis in your hand more mortal then in mine.  To them Hamet. Ham. 
The King is from th' Alhambra beaten back;  
And now preparing for a new attack.  
To favour which, he will, that, instantly,  
You reinforce him with a new supply.  Selin to Benz. 
Think not, although my duty calls me hence,  
That with the breach of yours I will dispense:  
‛ Ere my return, see my commands you do;  
Let me find Ozmin dead; and killed by you.  
Gazul and Reduan attend her still;  
And if she dares to fail, perform my will.  Exeunt Selin and Hamet. Benzayda, looks languishing on him with her sword down. Gazul and Reduan, standing with drawn swords by her. Ozmin. 
Defer not, fair Benzaiida, my death;  
Looking on you—  
I should but live to sigh away my breath.  
My eyes have done the work they had to do;  
I take your Image with me, which they drew;  
And, when they close, I shall die full of you.  Benz. 
When Parents their Commands unjustly lay  
Children are privileged to disobey.  
Yet from that breach of duty I am clear,  
Since I submit the penalty to bear.  
To die or kill you is th'alternative▪  
Rather than take your life, I will not live.  Ozm. 
This shows th' excess of generosity;  
But, Madam, you have no pretence to die.  
I should defame th' Abencerrage's Race  
To let a Lady suffer in my place.  
But neither could that life you would bestow  
Save mine: nor do you so much pity owe  
To me, a stranger, and your houses foe.  Benz. 
From whence-soe're their Hate our Houses drew,  
I blush to tell you, I have none for you.  
'Tis a Confession which I should not make,  
Had I more time to give, or you to take.  
But, since death's near, and runs with so much force,  
We must meet first and intercept his course.  Ozmyn. 
Oh, how unkind a comfort do you give!  
Now, I fear death again, and wish to live.  
Life were worth taking could I have it now,  
But 'tis more good than Heaven can e'er allow,  
To one man's portion, to have life and you.  Benz. 
Sure, at our Births,  
Death with our meeting Planets danced above;  
Or we were wounded by a Mourning Love!  Shouts within. Redu. 
The noise returns, and doubles from behind;  
It seems as if two adverse Armies joined:  
Time presses us.  Gaz. 
— If longer you delay  
We must, though loath, yours Fathers Will obey.  Ozm. 
Haste, Madam, to fulfil his hard Commands:  
And rescue me from their ignoble Hands.  
Let me kiss yours, when you my wound begin;  
Then, easy Death will slide with pleasure in.  Benz. 
Ah, gentle Soldiers, some short time allow,  To Gazet and Red. 
My Father has repent him e'er now;  
Or will repent him when he finds me dead:  
My clue of Life is twined with Ozmyn's Thread.  Red. 
'Tis fatal to refuse her, or obey:  
But where is our excuse? what can we say?  Benz. 
Say; any thing—  
Say, that to kill the Guiltless you were loath.  
Or, if you did, say, I would kill you both.  Gaz. 
To disobey our Orders is to die:  
I'll do't, who dare oppose it.  Red. 
— That dare I.  [Reduan stands before Ozmyn, and fights with Gazul.] [Benzayda unbinds Ozmyn; and gives him her Sword.] Benz. 
Stay not to see the issue of the Fight; Red. kills Gaz.  
But haste to save yourself by speedy flight.  [Ozmyn kneeling to kiss her hand.] 
Did all Mankind against my Life conspire  
Without this Blessing I would not retire.  
But, Madam, can I go and leave you here?  
Your Father's anger now for you I fear:  
Consider you have done too much to stay.  Benz. 
Think not of me, but fly yourself away.  Red. 
Haste quickly hence; the Enemies are nigh:  
From every part I see our Soldiers fly;  
The Foes not only our Assailants beat,  
But fiercely sally out on their Retreat;  
And, like a Sea broke loose, come on amain.  To them Abenamar; and a party with their swords drawn: driving in some of the Enemies. Aben. 
Traitors, you hope to save yourselves in vain,  
Your forfeit Lives shall for your Treason pay;  
And Ozmyn's Blood shall be revenged this day.  Ozmyn, kneeling to his Father. Ozmyn. 
No Sir, your Ozmyn lives, and lives to own  
A Father's piety to free his Son.  Abenamar embracing him. Aben. 
My Ozmyn! O thou blessing of my age!  
And art thou safe from their deluded rage!  
Whom must I praise for thy Deliverance,  
Was it thy Valour or the work of Chance?  Ozmyn. 
Nor Chance nor Valour could deliver me;  
But 'twas a noble Pity set me free.  
My Liberty and Life,  
And what your Happiness you're pleased to call,  
We to this charming Beauty owe it all.  Abenam: to her. 
Instruct me, visible Divinity,  
Instruct me by what Name to worship thee.  
For to thy Virtue I would Altars raise:  
Since thou art much above all humane praise.  
But see—  Enter Almanzor, his sword bloody, leading in Almahide, attended by Esperanza. 
My other blessing, Almahide is here:  
I'll to the King, and tell him she is near.  
You Ozmyn, on your fair deliverer wait:  
And with your private Joys the public Celebrate.  Exeunt. Almanzor, Almahide, Esperanza. Alman. 
The work is done; now, Madam, you are free:  
At least if I can give you Liberty.  
But you have Chains which you yourself have chose;  
And, oh, that I could free you too from those.  
But, you are free from force, and have full power  
To go, and kill my hopes and me, this hour.  
I see, then, you will go; but yet my toil  
May be rewarded with a looking while.  Almah. 
Almanzor can from every Subject raise  
New matter for our Wonder and his Praise.  
You bound and freed me, but the difference is,  
That showed your Valour; but your Virtue this.  Almanz. 
Madam, you praise a Funeral Victory;  
At whose sad pomp the Conqueror must die.  Almah. 
Conquest attends Almanzor every where,  
I am too small a Foe for him to fear:  
But Heroes still must be opposed by some,  
Or they would want occasion to o'ercome.  Almanz. 
Madam, I cannot on bare praises live:  
Those who abound in praises seldom give.  Almah. 
While I to all the world your worth make known,  
May Heaven reward the pity you have shown.  Almanz. 
My Love is languishing and starved to death,  
And would you give me charity, in breath?  
Prayers are the Alms of Churchmen to the Poor:  
They send to Heaven's; but drive us from their door.  Almah. 
Cease; cease a Suit  
So vain to you and troublesome to me,  
If you will have me think that I am free.  
If I am yet a Slave my bonds I'll bear,  
But what I cannot grant, I will not hear.  Almanz. 
You wonot hear! you must both Hear and grant;  
For, Madam, there's an impudence in want.  Almah. 
Your way is somewhat strange to ask Relief;  
You ask with threatening, like a begging Thief.  
Once more Almanzor, tell me, am I free?  Almanz. 
Madam, you are from all the World— but me.  
But as a Pirate, when he frees the Prize  
He took from Friends, sees the rich Merchandise,  
And after he has freed it, justly buys,  
So when I have restored your Liberty,—  
But, then, alas, I am too poor to buy!  Almah. 
Nay now you use me just as Pirates do:  
You free me; but expect a ransom too.  Almanz. 
You've all the freedom that a Prince can have:  
But Greatness cannot be without a Slave.  
A Monarch never can in private move;  
But still is haunted with officious Love.  
So small an inconvenience you may bear,  
'Tis all the Fine Fate sets upon the Fair.  Almah. 
Yet Princes may retire when ere they please;  
And breathe free Air from out their Palaces:  
They go sometimes unknown to shun their State;  
And then, 'tis manners not to know or wait.  Almanz. 
If not a Subject then a Ghost I'll be;  
And from a Ghost, you know, no place is free.  
Asleep, Awake, I'll haunt you every where;  
From my white shroud, groan Love into your Ear.  
When in your Lover's Arms you sleep at night,  
I'll glide in cold betwixt, and seize my Right.  
And is't not better in your Nuptial Bed  
To have a living lover than a dead?  Almah. 
I can no longer bear to be accused,  
As if what I could grant you I refused.  
My Father's choice I never will dispute;  
And he has chosen ere you moved your Suit.  
You know my Case, if equal you can be,  
Plead for yourself, and answer it for me.  Almanz. 
Then, Madam, in that hope you bid me live:  
I ask no more than you may justly give:  
But, in strict justice there may favour be:  
And may I hope that you have that for me?  Almah. 
Why do you thus my secret thoughts pursue,  
Which known, hurt me, and cannot profit you?  
Your knowledge but new troubles does prepare,  
Like theirs who curious in their Fortunes are.  
To say I could with more content be yours,  
Tempts you to hope; but not that hope assures.  
For since the King has right,  
And favoured by my Father in his Suit,  
It is a blossom which can bear no Fruit.  
Yet, if you dare attempt so hard a task,  
May you succeed; you have my leave to ask.  Almanz. 
I can with courage now my hopes pursue,  
Since I no longer have to combat you.  
That did the greatest difficulty bring:  
The rest are small, a Father, and a King!  Almah. 
Great Souls discern not when the leaps too wide,  
Because they only view the farther side.  
What ever you desire you think is near:  
But, with more reason, the event I fear.  Almanz. 
No; there is a necessity in Fate,  
Why still the brave bold man is Fortunate:  
He keeps his object ever full in sight,  
And that assurance holds him firm, and right.  
True, 'tis a narrow path that leads to bliss,  
But right before there is no precipice:  
Fear makes men look aside, and then their footing miss.  Almah. 
I do your merit all the right I can;  
Admiring Virtue in a private man:  
I only wish the King may grateful be,  
And that my Father with my Eyes may see.  
Might I not make it as my last request  
(Since humble carriage suits a Suppliant best)  
That you would somewhat of your fierceness hide:  
That inborn fire; I do not call it pride.  Almanz. 
Born, as I am still to command, not sue,  
Yet you shall see that I can beg for you.  
And if your Father will require a Crown,  
Let him but name the Kingdom, 'tis his own.  
I am, but while I please, a private man;  
I have that Soul which Empires first began:  
From the dull crowd which every King does lead,  
I will pick out whom I will choose to head:  
The best and bravest Souls I can select.  
And on their Conquered Necks my Throne erect.  Exeunt.   

ACT. V.  Abdalla alone, under the walls of the Albayzin. Abd. 
WHile she is mine, I have not yet lost all:  
But, in her Arms, shall have a gentle fall:  
Blessed in my Love, although in war o'ercome,  
I fly, like Anthony from Actium,  
To meet a better Cleopatra here,  
You of the Watch: you of the Watch: appear.  Soldier above. 
Who calls below? What's your demand?  Abdal. 
— 'Tis I:  
Open the Gate with speed; the Foe is nigh.  Sol. 
What Orders for admittance do you bring?  Abdal. 
Slave, my own Orders; look and know the King.  Sold. 
I know you, but my charge is so severe▪  
That none, without exception, enter here.  Abdal. 
Traitor, and Rebel, thou shalt shortly see  
Thy Orders are not to extend to me▪  Lyndaraxa above. 
What saucy slave so rudely does exclaim,  
And brands my Subject with a Rebel's name?  Abdal. 
Dear Lyndaraxa haste; the Foes pursue▪  Lynd. 
My Lord the Prince Abdalla, is it you?  
I scarcely can believe the words I hear:  
Could you so coarsely Treat my Officer?  Abdal. 
He forced me, but the danger nearer draws,  
When I am entered you shall know the cause.  Lynd. 
Entered! Why have you any business here?  Abdal. 
I am pursued; the Enemy is near.  Lynd. 
Are you pursued, and do you thus delay  
To save yourself? make haste, my Lord, away.  Abdal. 
Give me not cause to think you mock my grief:  
What place have I, but this, for my relief?  Lynd. 
This favour does your handmaid much oblige▪  
But we are not provided for a siege.  
My Subjects few; and their provision thin;  
The foe is strong without, we weak within.  
This to my noble Lord may seem unkind,  
But he will weigh it in his Princely mind:  
And pardon her, who does assurance want  
So much, she blushes, when she cannot grant.  Abdal. 
Yes, you may blush; and you have cause to weep,  
Is this the faith you promised me to keep?  
Ah yet, if to a Lover you will bring  
No succour; give your succour to a King.  Lynd. 
A King is he whom nothing can withstand;  
Who men and money can with ease command:  
A King is he whom fortune still does bless:  
He is a King, who does a Crown possess.  
If you would have me think that you are he,  
Produce to view your marks of Sovereignty.  
But, if yourself alone for proof you bring,  
You're but a single person; not a King.  Abdal. 
Ingrateful Maid, did I for this rebel?  
I say no more; but I have loved too well.  Lynd. 
Who but yourself did that Rebellion move?  
Did I 'ere promise to receive your Love?  
Is it my fault you are not fortunate?  
I love a King, but a poor Rebel hate.  Abdal. 
Who follow Fortune still are in the right.—  
But let me be protected here this night.  Lynd. 
The place to morrow will be circled round;  
And then no way will for your flight be found.  Abdalla. 
I hear my Enemies just coming on;  trampling within. 
Protect me but one hour, till they are gone.  Lind. 
They'll know you have been here; it cannot be,  
That very hour you stay will ruin me.  
For if the foe behold our Interview,  
I shall be thought a Rebel too like you:  
Haste hence; and that your flight, may prosperous prove;  
I'll recommend you to the powers above.  Exit Lyndaraxa from above. Abdal. 
She's gone; ah faithless and ingrateful maid!  
I fear some tread; and fear I am betrayed:  
I'll to the Spanish King; and try if he  
To countenance his own right, will succour me.  
There is more faith in Christian Dogs, than thee.  Exit. Ozmyn. Benzayds. Abenamar. Benz. 
— I wish  
(To merit all these thanks) I could have said  
My pity only did his virtue aid:  
'Twas pity; but 'twas of a Lovesick Maid.  
His manly suffering my esteem did move;  
That bred Compassion; and Compassion, Love.  Ozmin. 
O blessing sold me at too cheap a rate!  
My danger was the benefit of fate.  To his father. 
But that you may my fair deliverer know,  
She was not only born our house's foe.  
But to my death by powerful reasons, led,  
At least, in justice she might wish me dead.  Aben. 
But why thus long do you her name conceal?  Ozmyn. 
To gain belief for what I now reveal:  
E'ven thus prepared, you scarce can think it true  
The Saviour of my life, from Selin drew  
Her birth; and was his Sister whom I slew.  Aben. 
No more; it cannot, was not, must not be:  
Upon my blessing, say not it was she.  
The daughter of the only man I hate!  
Two Contradictions twisted in a fate!  Ozmyn. 
The mutual hate which you and Selin bore,  
Does but exalt her generous pity more.  
Could she a brother's death forgive to me,  
And cannot you forget her family?  
Can you so ill requite the life I owe  
To reckon her, who gave it, still your foe?  
It lends too great a lustre to her line  
To let her virtue, ours so much outshine.  Aben. 
Thou giv'st her line th' advantage which they have  
By meanly taking of the life they gave.  
Grant that it did in her a pity show,  
But would my Son be pitied by a foe?  
She has the glory of thy act defaced:  
Thou kill'dst her brother; but she triumphs last:  
Poorly for us our Enmity would cease;  
When we are beaten we receive a peace.  Benz. 
If that be all in which you disagree,  
I must confess 'twas Ozmyn conquered me.  
Had I beheld him basely beg his life,  
I should not now submit to be his wife.  
But when I saw his courage death control,  
I paid a secret homage to his Soul;  
And thought my cruel father much too blame;  
Since Ozmyn's virtue his revenge did shame.  Aben. 
What constancy canst thou 'ere hope to find  
In that unstable, and soon conquered mind;  
What piety canst thou expect from her  
Who could forgive a Brother's Murderer?  
Or, what obedience hop'st thou to be paid  
From one who first her father disobeyed?  Ozmyn. 
Nature that bids us Parents to obey,  
Bids parents their commands by Reason weigh.  
And you her virtue by your praise did own,  
Before you knew by whom the act was done.  Aben. 
Your reasons speak too much of insolence,  
Her birth's a crime past pardon or defence.  
Know, that as Selin was not won by thee,  
Neither will I by Selins daughter be.  
Leave her, or cease henceforth to be my Son:  
This is my will: and this I will have done.  Exit Abenamar. Ozmyn. 
It is a murdering will!  
That whirls along with an impetuous sway;  
And like chain-shot, sweeps all things in its way.  
He does my honour want of duty call;  
To that, and love he has no right at all.  Benz. 
No, Ozmyn, no, it is much less ill  
To leave me than dispute a Father's will:  
If I had any title to your love,  
Your father's greater right does mine remove:  
Your vows and faith I give you back again;  
Since neither can be kept without a sin.  Ozmyn. 
Nothing but death my vows can give me back:  
They are not yours to give, nor mine to take.  Benz. 
Nay, think not, though I could your vows resign,  
My love or virtue could dispense with mine.  
I would extinguish your unlucky fire,  
To make you happy in some new desire:  
I can preserve enough for me and you:  
And love, and be unfortunate for two.  Ozmyn. 
In all that's good and great,  
You vanquish me so fast, that in the end  
I shall have nothing left me to defend.  
From every Post you force me to remove;  
But let me keep my last retrenchment, Love.  Benz. 
Love then, my Ozmyn; I will be content  giving her hand. 
To make you wretched by your own consent:  
Live poor, despised, and banished for my sake:  
And all the burden of my sorrows take.  
For, as for me, in what soe'er estate,  
While I have you, I must be fortunate.  Ozmyn. 
Thus then, secured of what we hold most dear,  
(Each others love,) we'll go— I know not where.  
For where, alas, should we our flight begin?  
The foes without; our parents are within.  Benz. 
I'll fly to you; and you shall fly to me:  
Our flight but to each others arms shall be.  
To providence and chance permit the rest;  
Let us but love enough and we are blessed.  Exeunt. Enter Boabdelin, Abenamar, Abdelmelech. Guard, Zulema, and Hamet prisoners. Abdel. 
They're Lindraxas brothers; for her sake  
Their lives, and pardon my request I make.  Boab. 
Then Zulema and Hamet live; but know  
Your lives to Abdelmeleches suit you owe.  Zul. 
The grace received so much my hope exceeds  
That words come weak and short to answer deeds.  
You've made a venture, Sir, and time must show,  
If this great mercy you did well bestow.  Boabd. 
You, Abdelmelech, haste before 'tis night;  
And close pursue my Brother in his flight.  Exeunt Abdelmelech, Zulema, Hamet. Enter Almanzor, Almahide, and Esperanza. 
But see with Almahide,  
The brave Almanzor comes, whose conquering sword  
That Crown it once took from me, has restored.  
How can I recompense so great desert!  Almanz. 
I bring you, Sir, performed in every part  
My Promise made; Your foes are fled or slain;  
Without a Rival, absolute you reign.  
Yet, though in justice, this enough may be,  
It is too little to be done by me:  
I beg to go  
Where my own Courage and your fortune calls,  
To chase these Misbelievers from our Walls.  
I cannot breathe within this narrow space;  
My heart's too big; and swells beyond the place.  Boab. 
You can perform, brave warrior, what you please,  
Fate listens to your voice, and then decrees.  
Now I no longer fear the Spanish powers;  
Already we are free and conquerors.  Almanz. 
Accept great King, tomorrow from my hand,  
The captive head of conquered Ferdinand.  
You shall not only what you lost regain,  
But, o'er the Byscayn Mountains to the Main,  
Extend your sway, where never Moor did reign.  Aben. 
What in another Vanity would seem,  
Appears but noble Confidence in him.  
No haughty boasting; but a manly pride:  
A Soul too fiery, and too great to guide:  
He moves excentrique, like a wand'ring star;  
Whose Motion's just; though 'tis not regular.  Boab. 
It is for you, brave Man, and only you  
Greatly to speak, and yet more greatly do.  
But, if your Benefits too far extend,  
I must be left ungrateful in the end:  
Yet somewhat I would pay  
Before my debts above all reckoning grow;  
To keep me from the shame of what I owe.  
But you—  
Are conscious to yourself of such desert,  
That of your gift I fear to offer part.  Almanz. 
When I shall have declared my high request,  
So much presumption there will be confessed,  
That you will find your gifts I do not shun;  
But rather much o're-rate the service done.  Boab. 
Give wing to your desires, and let 'em fly;  
Secure, they cannot mount a pitch too high.  
So bless me Alha both in peace and war,  
As I accord what 'ere your wishes are.  Almanz. putting one knee on the ground. 
Emboldened by the promise of a Prince  
I ask this Lady now with Confidence.  Boab. 
You ask the only thing I cannot grant.  The King and Aben. look amazedly on each other. 
But, as a stranger, you are ignorant.  
Of what by public fame my Subjects know;  
She is my Mistress:  Aben. 
— And my daughter too.  Almanz. 
Believe, old Man, that I her father knew:  
What else should make Almanzor, kneel to you?  
Nor doubt, Sir, but your right to her was known:  
For had you had no claim but love alone,  
I could produce a better of my own.  Almahide softly to him. 
Almanzor, you forget my last request:  
Your words have too much haughtiness expressed.  
Is this the humble way you were to move?  Almanzor to her. 
I was too far transported by my love.  
Forgive me; for I had not learned to sue  
To any thing before, but Heaven and you.  
Sir, at your feet, I make it my request— To the King. first line kneeling: second rising: and boldly.  
Though, without boasting I deserve her best.  
For you, her love with gaudy titles sought,  
But I her heart with blood and dangers bought.  Boab. 
The blood which you have shed in her defence  
Shall have in time a fitting recompense:  
Or, if you think your services delayed,  
Name but your price, and you shall soon be paid.  Alman. 
My price! why, King, you do not think you deal  
With one, who sets his services to sale?  
Reserve your gifts for those who gifts regard;  
And know I think myself above reward.  Boab. 
Then sure you are some Godhead; and our care  
Must be to come with Incense, and with Prayer.  Almanz. 
As little as you think yourself obliged,  
You would be glad to do't, when next besieged.  
But I am pleased there should be nothing due;  
For what I did was for myself not you.  Boab. 
You, with contempt, on meaner gifts look down;  
And, aiming at my Queen, disdain my Crown.  
That Crown restored, deserves no recompense,  
Since you would rob the fairest Jewel thence.  
Dare not henceforth ungrateful me to call;  
What 'ere Jowed you, this has cancelled all.  Alman. 
I'll call thee thankless, King; and perjured both:  
Thou sworest by Alha; and hast broke thy oath.  
But thou dost well: thou tak'st the cheapest way;  
Not to own services thou canst not pay.  Boab. 
My patience more than pays thy service past;  
But know this insolence shall be thy last.  
Hence from my sight, and take it as a grace  
Thou liv'st, and art but banished from the place.  Almanz. 
Where 'ere I go there can no exile be;  
But from Almanzor's sight I banish thee:  
I will not now, if thou wouldst beg me, stay;  
But I will take my Almahide away.  
Stay thou with all thy Subjects here: but know  
We leave thy City empty when we go.  Takes Almahide's hand. Boabdelin. 
Fall on; take; kill the Traitor.  The Guards fall on him: he makes at the King through the midst of them; and falls upon him; they disarm him; and rescue the King. Almanz. 
— Base, and poor,  
Blush that thou art Almanzor's Conqueror.  Almahide wrings her hands: then turns and veils her face. 
Farewell my Almahide!  
Life of itself will go, now thou art gone,  
Like flies in Winter when they lose the Sun.  Abenamar whispers the King a little; then speaks aloud. Aben. 
Revenge, and taken so secure a way,  
Are blessings which Heaven sends not every day.  Boab. 
I will at leisure now revenge my wrong;  
And, Traitor, thou shalt feel my vengeance long:  
Thou shalt not die just at thy own desire,  
But see my Nuptials, and with rage expire.  Alman. 
Thou dar'st not marry her while I'm in sight;  
With a bend brow thy Priest and thee I'll fright,  And in that Scene 
Which all thy hopes and wishes should content,  
The thought of me shall make thee impotent.  He is led off by Guards. Boabdel. to Almahide. 
As some fair tulip, by a storm oppresr,  
Shrinks up; and folds its silken arms to rest;  
And, bending to the blast, all pale and dead,  
Hears from within, the wind sing round its head:  
So, shrouded up your beauty disappears;  
Unveil my Love; and lay aside your fears.  
The storm that caused your fright, is past and done.  Almahide unveyling and looking round for Almanzor. 
So flowrs peep out too soon, and miss the Sun.  turning from him. Boab. 
What mystery in this strange behaviour lies?  Almah. 
Let me for ever hide these guilty eyes  
Which lighted my Almanzor to his tomb;  
Or, let 'em blaze to show me there a room.  Boab. 
Heaven lent their lustre for a Nobler end:  
A thousaud torches must their light attend  
To lead you to a Temple and a Crown.—  
Why does my fairest Almahida frown?  
Am I less pleasing than I was before,  
Or is the insolent Almanzor, more?  Almah. 
I justly own that I some pity have,  
Not for the Insolent, but for the Brave.  Aben. 
Though to your King your duty you neglect,  
Know, Almahide, I look for more respect.  
And, if a Parents charge your mind can move,  
Receive the blessing of a Monarch's love.  Almah. 
Did he my freedom to his life prefer,  
And shall I wed Almanzor's Murderer?  
No, Sir; I cannot to your will submit:  
Your way's too rugged for my tender feet.  Aben. 
You must be driven where you refuse to go.  
And taught, by force, your happiness to know.  Almahide smiling scornfully. 
To force me, Sir, is much unworthy you;  
And, when you would, impossible to do▪  
If force could bend me, you might think with shame,  
That I debased the blood from whence I came.  
My soul is soft; which you may gently lay  
In your loose palm; but when 'tis pressed to stay,  
Like water it deludes your grasp, and slips away.  Boab. 
I find I must revoke what I decreed;  
Almanzor's death my Nuptials must precede.  
Love is a Magic which the Lover ties;  
But charms still end, when the Magician dies.  
Go; let me hear my hated Rival's dead; To his guards.  
And, to convince my eyes, bring back his head.  Almah. 
Go on; I wish no other way to prove  
That I am worthy of Almanzor's love.  
We will in death, at least, united be;  
I'll show you I can die as well as he.  Boab. 
What should I do! when equally I dread  
Almanzor living, and Almanzor dead!—  
Yet, by your promise you are mine alone.  Almah. 
How dare you claim my faith, and break your own?  Aben. 
This for your virtue is a weak defence:  
No second vows can with your first dispense.  
Yet, since the King did to Almanzor swear,  
And, in his death ingrateful may appear,  
He ought, in justice, first to spare his life,  
And then to claim your promise, as his wife.  Almah. 
What 'ere my secret inclinations be,  
To this, since honour ties me, I agree.  
Yet I declare and to the world will own,  
That, far from seeking, I would shun the Throne,  
And, with Almanzor, lead an humble life;  
There is a private greatness in his wife.  Boab. 
That little love I have, I hardly buy;  
You give my Rival all, while you deny.  
Yet, Almahide, to let you see your power,  
Your loved Almanzor shall be free this hour.  
You are obeyed; but 'tis so great a grace,  
That I could wish me in my Rival's place.  Exeunt King & Abenamar● Almah. 
How blessed was I before this fatal day!  
When all I knew of love, was to obey!  
'Twas life becalmed; without a gentle breath;  
Though not so cold, yet motionless as death.  
A heavy quiet state: but love all strife,  
All rapid; is the Hurrican of life.  
Had love not shown me, I had never seen  
An Excellence beyond Boabdelin.  
I had not, aiming higher, lost my rest;  
But with a vulgar good been dully blessed.  
But, in Almanzor, having seen what's rare,  
Now I have learned too sharply to compare,  
And, like a Favourite, quickly in disgrace,  
Just know the value 'ere I lose the place.  To her Almanzor bound and guarded. Almanz. 
I see the end for which I'm hither sent;  looking down. 
To double, by your sight, my punishment.  
There is a shame in bonds, I cannot bear;  
Far more than death, to meet your eyes I fear.  Almahide unbinding him. 
That shame of long continuance shall not be:  
The King, at my entreaty, sets you free.  Alman. 
The King! my wonder's greater than before:  
How did he dare my freedom to restore?  
He like some Captive Lion uses me;  
He runs away before he sets me free:  
And takes a sanctuary in his Court:  
I'll rather lose my life than thank him for't.  Alm. 
If any subject for your thanks there be,  
The King expects 'em not; you owe 'em me.  
Our freedoms through each others hands have past;  
You give me my revenge in winning last.  Almanz. 
Then fate commodiously for me has done;  
To lose mine there where I would have it won.  Almah. 
Almanzor, you too soon will understand  
That what I win is on another's hand.  
The King (who doomed you to a cruel fate)  
Gave to my prayers both his revenge and hate:  
But at no other price would rate your life  
Then my consent, and oath to be his wife.  Almanz. 
Would you to save my life, my love betray?  
Here; take me; bind me; carry me away; to the Guards.  
Kill me: I'll kill you if you disobey.  Almah. 
That absolute command your love does give  
I take; and charge you, by that power, to live.  Alman. 
When death, the last of comforts you refuse,  
Your power, like Heaven upon the damned, you use,  
You force me in my being to remain,  
To make me last, and keep me fresh for pain.  
When all my joys are gone  
What cause can I for living longer, give,  
But a dull lazy habitude to live?  Almah. 
Rash men, like you, and impotent of will,  
Give chance no time to turn; but urge her still.  
She would repent; you push the quarrel on,  
And once, because she went, she must be gone.  Alman. 
She shall not turn: what is it she can do  
To recompense me for the loss of you!  Almah. 
Heaven will reward your worth some better way.  
At least, for me, you have but lost one day.  
Nor is't a real loss which you deplore;  
You sought a heart that was engaged before.  
'Twas a swift love which took you in his way;  
Flew only through your heart but made no stay.  
'Twas but a dream; where truth had not a place:  
A scene of fancy, moved so swift a pace  
And shifted, that you can but think it was:  
Let, then, the short vexatious Vision pass.  Alman. 
My joys indeed are dreams; but not my pain  
'Twas a swift ruin; but the marks remain.  
When some fierce fire lays goodly buildings waste,  
Would you conclude  
There had been none, because the burning's past?  Almah. 
It was your fault that fire seized all your breast,  
You should have blown up some, to save the rest.  
But 'tis, at worst, but so consumed by fire  
As Cities are, that by their falls rise high.  
Build Love a Nobler Temple in my place;  
You'll find the fire has but enlarged your space.  Alman. 
Love has undone me; I am grown so poor  
I sadly view the ground I had before:  
But want a stock; and ne'er can build it more.  Almah. 
Then say what Charity I can allow;  
I would Contribute; if I knew but how.  
Take friendship: or if that too small appear,  
Take love which Sisters may to Brothers bear.  Alman. 
A Sister's love! that is so palled a thing!  
What pleasure can it to a Lover bring?  
'Tis like thin food to men in fevers spent;  
Just keeps alive; but gives no nourishment.  
What hopes, what fears, what transports can it move?  
'Tis but the Ghost of a departed Love.  Almah. 
You like some greedy Cormorant, devour  
All my whole life can give you, in an hour.  
What more I can do for you, is to die,  
And that must follow, if you this deny.  
Since I gave up my love that you might live  
You, in refusing life, my sentence give.  Alman. 
Far from my breast be such an impious thought:  
Your death would lose the quiet mine had sought.  
I'll live for you, in spite of misery:  
But you shall grant that I had rather die.  
I'll be so wretched; filled with such despair,  
That you shall see, to live, was more to dare,  Almah. 
Adieu, then, O my Souls far better part  
Your Image sticks so close  
That the blood follows from my rending heart.  
A last farewell!  
For since a last must come, the rest are vain!  
Like gasps in death, which but prolong our pain.  
But, since the King is now a part of me:  
Cease from henceforth to be his Enemy.  
Go now, for pity go, for if you stay  
I fear I shall have something still to say.  
Thus— I for ever shut you from my sight. veils.  Alman. 
Like one thrust out in a cold Winter's night,  
Yet shivering, underneath your gate I stay;  
One look— I cannot go before 'tis day—  she beckons him to be gone. 
Not one- Farewell: what 'ere my sufferings be  
Within; I'll speak Farewell, as loud as she:  
I will not be outdone in Constancy.—  she turns her back. 
Then like a dying Conqueror I go;  
At least I have looked last upon my foe.  
I go— but if too heavily I move,  
I walk encumbered with a weight of Love.  
Feign I would leave the thought of you behind  
But still, the more I cast you from my mind,  
You dash, like water, back, when thrown against the wind  Exit. As he goes off the King meets him with Abenamar, they stare at each other without saluting. Boabd. 
With him go all my fears: a guard there wait;  
And see him safe without the City gate.  To them Abdemelech. 
Now Abdemelech, is my brother dead?  Abdel. 
Th' Usurper to the Christian Camp is fled;  
Whom as Granadas lawful King they own;  
And vow, by force to seat him in the throne.  
Mean time the Rebels in th' Albayzin rest;  
Which is, in Lindaraxa's name, possessed.  Boab. 
Hast; and reduce it instantly by force:  Abdel. 
First give me leave to prove a milder course.  
She will, perhaps, on summons yield the place.  Boab. 
We cannot, to your suit, refuse her grace.  One enters hastily and whispers Abenamar. Aben. 
How fortune persecutes this hoary head!  
My Ozmin is with Selin's daughter fled.  
But he's no more my Son—  
My hate shall like a Zegry him pursue;  
Till I take back what blood from me he drew.  Boab. 
Let war and vengeance be to morrow's care:  
But let us to the Temple now repair.  
A thousand torches make the Mosque more bright:  
This must be mine 〈…〉 ahidas night.  
Hence ye importunate affairs of State;  
You should not Tyrannize on Love, but wait.  
Had life no love, none would for business live;  
Yet still from love the largest part we give:  
And must be forced, in Empire's weary toil,  
To live long wretched to be pleased a while.  Exeunt.   

Epilogue.  
SVccess, which can no more than beauty last,  
Makes our sad Poet mourn your favours past:  
For, since without desert he got a name,  
He fears to lose it now with greater shame.  
Fame, like a little Mistress of the town,  
Is gained with ease; but then she's lost as soon.  
For, as those 〈◊〉 Misses, soon or late  
jilt such 〈…〉 at the highest rate:  
(And oft the 〈◊〉, or the Brawny Clown,  
Gets what is hid in the loose bodied gown;)  
So, Fame is false to all that keep her long;  
And turns up to the Fop that's brisk and young.  
Some wiser Poet now would leave Fame first:  
But elder wits are like old Lovers cursed;  
Who, when the vigour of their youth is spent,  
Still grow more fond as they grow impotent.  
This, some years hence, our Poet's case may prove;  
But, yet, he hopes, he's young enough to love.  
When forty comes, if 'ere he live to see  
That wretched, fumbling age of poetry;  
'Twill be high time to bid his Muse adieu:  
Well he may please himself, but never you.  
Till than he'll do as well as he began;  
And hopes you will not find him less a man.  
Think him not duller for this years delay;  
He was prepared, the women were away;  
And men, without their parts, can hardly play.  
If they, through sickness, seldom did appear,  
Pity the virgins of each Theatre!  
For, at both houses, 'twas a sickly year!  
And pity us, your servants, to whose cost,  
In one such sickness, nine whole Months are lost.  
Their stay, he fears, has ruined what he writ:  
Long waiting both disables love and wit.  
They thought they gave him leisure to do well▪  
But when they forced him to attend, he fell  
Yet though he much has failed, he 〈…〉  
You will excuse his unperforming 〈…〉  
Weakness sometimes great passion does express;  
He had pleased better, had he loved you less.   

Epilogue.  
A Pretty task! and so I told the Fool,  
Who needs would undertake to please by Rule:  
He thought that, if his Characters were good,  
The Scenes entire, and freed from noise and blood;  
The Action great, yet circumscribed by Time,  
The Words not forced, but sliding into Rhyme,  
The Passions raised and calmed by just Degrees,  
As Tides are swelled, and then retire to Seas;  
He thought, in hitting these, his business done,  
Though he, perhaps, has failed in every one:  
But, after all, a Poet must confess,  
His Art's like Physic, but a happy guess.  
Your Pleasure on your Fancy must depend:  
The Lady's pleased, just as she likes her Friend.  
No Song! no Dance! no Show! he fears you'll say,  
You love all naked Beauties, but a Play.  
He much mistakes your methods to delight;  
And, like the French, abhors our Target-sight:  
But those damned Dogs can never be i'th' right.  
True English hate your Monsieur's paltry Arts;  
For you are all Silk-weavers, in your hearts.  
Bold Britons, at a brave Bear-garden Fray,  
Are roused: and, clatt'ring Sticks, cry, Play, play, play.  
Mean time, your filthy Foreigner will stare,  
And mutter to himself, Ha gens Barbare!  
And, Gad, 'tis well he mutters; well for him;  
Our Butchers else would tear him limb from limb.  
'Tis true, the time may come, your Sons may be  
Infected with this French civility;  
 
 
〈…〉 when few can make a Tossed  
〈…〉 Writing and the best?  
〈…〉 cheap and common, who would strive,  
Which, like abandoned Prostitutes, you give?  
Yet scattered here and there I some behold,  
Who can discern the Tinsel from the Gold:  
To these he writes; and, if by them allowed,  
'Tis their Prerogative to rule the Crowd.  
For he more fears (like a presuming Man)  
Their Votes who cannot Judge, than theirs who can.  
FINIS.   

Almanzor and Almahide, Or, The CONQUEST OF Granada The Second Part. As it is Acted at the THEATER-ROYAL.  
Written by JOHN DRYDEN Servant to His Majesty.  
— Stimulos dedit aemula virtus.  Lucan. 
In the SAVOY, Printed by T. N. for Henry Herringman, and are to be sold at the Anchor in the Lower Walk of the New Exchange. 1672.   

PROLOGUE To the Second Part, OF THE CONQUEST OF Granada.  
THey who write Ill, and they who ne'er durst write,  
Turn Critics, out of mere Revenge and Spite:  
A Playhouse gives 'em Fame; and up there starts,  
From a mean Fifth-rate Wit, a Man of Parts.  
(So Common Faces on the Stage appear:  
We take 'em in; and they turn Beauties here.)  
Our Author fears those Critics as his Fate:  
And those he Fears, by consequence, must Hate.  
For they the Traffic of all Wit, invade;  
As scriveners draw away the Bankers Trade.  
Howe'er, the Poet's safe enough to day:  
They cannot censure an unfinished Play.  
But, as when Vizard Masque appears in Pit,  
Strait, every man who thinks himself a Wit,  
Perks up; and, managing his Comb, with grace,  
With his white Wigg sets off his Nut-brown Face:  
That done, bears up to th'prize, and views each Limb,  
To know her by her Rigging and her Trimm:  
Thou, the whole noise of Fops to wagers go,  
Pox on her, 't must be she; and Damm'ee no:  
Just so I Prophecy, these Wits to day,  
Will blindly guests at our imperfect Play:  
With what new Plots our Second Part is filled;  
Who must be kept alive, and who be killed.  
And as those Vizard Masques maintain that Fashion,  
To sooth and tickle sweet Imagination:  
So, our dull Poet keeps you on with Masking;  
To make you think there's something worth your ask:  
But when 'tis shown, that which does now delight you,  
Will prove a Dowdy, with a Face to fright you.   

Almanzor and Almahide, Or, The CONQUEST OF Granada By the SPANIARDS. The Second Part.  

ACT. I.  

SCENE A Camp.  King Ferdinand; Queen Ysabel. Alonzo d'Aguilar. Attendants: men and women▪ K. Ferd. 
AT length the time is come, when Spain shall be  
From the long Yoke of Moorish Tyrants free.  
All causes seem to second our design;  
And Heaven and Earth in their destruction join.  
When Empire in its Childhood first appears,  
A watchful Fate ' oresees its tender years;  
Till, grown more strong, it thrusts, and stretches out,  
And Elbows all the Kingdoms round about:  
The place thus made for its first breathing free,  
It moves again for ease and Luxury:  
Till, swelling by degrees, it has possessed  
The greater space; and now crowds up the rest.  
When from behind, there starts some petty State;  
And bushes on its now unwieldy fate:  
Then, down the precipice of time it goes,  
And sinks in Minutes, which in Age's rose.  Qu. Ysabel. 
Should bold Columbus in his search succeed,  
And find those Beds in which bright Metals breed;  
Tracing the Sun, who seems to steal away,  
That Miser-like, he might alone, survey  
The wealth, which he in Western Mines did lay;  
Not all that shining Ore could give my heart  
The joy, this Conquered Kingdom will impart:  
Which, rescued from these Misbelievers hands;  
Shall now, at once shake off its double bands:  
At once to freedom and true faith restored:  
It's old Religion, and its ancient Lord.  K. Ferd. 
By that assault which last we made, I find,  
Their Courage is with their Success declined:  
Almanzor's absence now they dearly buy,  
Whose Conduct crowned their Arms with Victory.  Alonzo. 
Their King himself did their last Sally guide,  
I saw him glistering in bright armour, ride  
To break a Lance in honour of his Bride.  
But other thoughts now fill his anxious breast;  
Care of his Crown his Love has dispossessed.  
To them Abdalla.  Qu. Ysabel. 
But see the brother of the Moorish King;  
He seems some news of great import to bring.  Ferd. 
He brings a specious title to our side;  
Those who would conquer, must their Foes divide.  Abdal. 
Since to my Exile you have pity shown;  
And given me Courage, yet to hope a throne.  
While you without, our Common Foes subdue,  
I am not wanting to myself, or you.  
But have, within, a faction still alive;  
Strong to assist, and secret to contrive:  
And watching each occasion, to foment  
The people's fears into a discontent:  
Which, from Almanzor's loss, before were great  
And now are doubled by their late defeat.  
These Letters from their Chiefs, the news assures:  gives Letters to the King. K. Ferd. 
Be mine the honour; but the profit yours.  To them the Duke of Arcos, with Ozmyn, and Benzayda prisoners. K. Ferd. 
That tertia of Italians did you guide  
To take their post upon the River side?  Arcos. 
All are according to your Orders placed:  
My cheerful Soldiers their intrenchments haste,  
The Murcian foot have ta'en the upper ground,  
And now the City is beleaguered round.  Ferd. 
Why is not then, their Leader here again  Arcos. 
The Master of Alcantara is slain:  
But he who slew him here before you stands;  
It is that Moor whom you behold in bands.  K. Ferd. 
A braver man I had not in my host:  
His Murderer shall not long his Conquest boast.  
But, Duke of Arcos, say, how was he slain?  Arcos. 
Our Soldiers marched together on the Plain,  
We two road on, and left them far behind,  
Till, coming where we found the valley wind,  
We saw these Moors, who, swiftly as they could,  
Ran on, to gain the Covert of the wood.  
This we observed; and, having crossed their way,  
The Lady, out of breath was forced to stay:  
The Man then stood and strait his falchion drawn,  
Then told us, we in vain did those pursue  
Whom their ill fortune to despair did drive,  
And yet, whom we should never take alive.  
Neglecting this, the Master strait spurred on;  
But th' active Moor his horse's shock did shun,  
And 'ere his Rider from his reach could go,  
Finished the Combat with one deadly blow.  
ay, to revenge my Friend, prepared to fight,  
But now our foremost Men were come in sight,  
Who soon would have dispatched him on the Place,  
Had I not saved him from a death so base;  
And brought him to attend your Royal doom.  K. Ferd. 
A Manly face; and in his age's bloom.  
But to content the Soldiers, he must die;  
Go, see him executed instantly.  Q. Ysabel. 
Stay; I would learn his name before he go;  
You, Prince Abdalla, may the Prisoner know.  Abdalla. 
Ozmyn's his name; and he deserves his fate;  
His father heads that faction which I hate:  
But, much I wonder, that I with him see  
The daughter of his Mortal Enemy.  Benz. 
'Tis true; by Ozmyns sword my Brother fell;  
But 'twas a death he merited too well.  
I know a sister should excuse his fault;  
But you know too, that Ozmyn's death he sought.  Abdall. 
Our Prophet has declared, by the Event,  
That Ozmyn is reserved for punishment.  
For, when he thought his guilt from danger clear;  
He, by new Crimes, is brought to suffer here.  Benz. 
In Love, or Pity, if a Crime you find;  
We two have sinned above all humane kind.  Ozm. 
Heaven in my punishment, has done a grace;  
I could not suffer in a betters place:  
That I should die by Christians, it thought good;  
To save your father's guilt, who sought my blood. to her.  Benz. 
Fate aims so many blows to make us fall,  
That 'tis in vain, to think to ward 'em all:  
And where misfortunes great and many are,  
Life grows a burden; and not worth our care.  Ozm. 
I cast it from me, like a Garment torn,  
Ragged, and too undecent to be worn.  
Besides, there is Contagion in my Fate; to Benz.  
It makes your Life too much unfortunate.  
But, since her faults are not allied to mine,  
In her protection let your favour shine:  
To you, Great Queen, I make this last request;  
(Since pity dwells in every Royal Breast)  
Safe, in your care, her Life and Honour be:  
It is a dying Lovers Legacy.  Benz. 
Cease, Ozmyn, cease so vain a suit to move;  
I did not give you on those terms my Love.  
Leave Me, the care of Me; for, when you go,  
My Love will soon instruct me what to do.  Qu. Isa 
Permit me, Sir, these Lover's doom to give:  
My Sentence is, they shall together live.  
The Courts of Kings,  
To all Distressed should Sanctuaries be.  
But most, to Lovers in Adversity.  
Castille and Arragon  
Which, long against each other, War did move,  
My plighted Lord and I have joined by love:  
And, if to add this Conquest Heaven thinks good,  
I would not have it stained with Lover's blood.  Ferd. 
Whatever Isabel shall Command  
Shall always be a Law to Ferdinand:  Benz. 
The frowns of Fate we will no longer fear:  
Ill Fate, Great Queen, can never find us here.  Isab. 
Your thanks some other time I will receive:  
Henceforward, safe in my Protection live.  
Granada, is for Noble Loves renowned;  
Her best defence is in her Lovers found  
Love's a Heroic Passion which can find  
No room in any base degenerate mind:  
It kindles all the Soul with Honour's Fire,  
To make the Lover worthy his desire.  
Against such Heroes I success should fear,  
Had we not too an Host of Lovers here.  
An Army of bright Beauties come with me;  
Each Lady shall her Servants actions see:  
The Fair and Brave on each side shall contest;  
And they shall overcome who love the best.  Exeunt omnes.  

SCENE II. The Alhambra.  Zulema solus. 
True; they have pardoned me; but do they know  
What folly 'tis to trust a pardoned Foe!  
A Blush remains in a forgiven Face;  
It wears the silent Tokens of Disgrace:  
Forgiveness to the Injured does belong;  
But they ne'er pardon who have done the wrong.  
My hopeful Fortune's lost! and what's above  
All I can name or think, my ruined Love!  
Feigned Honesty shall work me into Trust;  
And seeming Penitence conceal my Lust.  
Let heavens great Eye of Providence now take  
One day of rest, and ever after wake.  Enter King Boabdelin, Abenamar and Guards. Boab. 
Losses on Losses! as if Heaven decreed  
Almanzor's valour should alone succeed.  Aben. 
Each Sally we have made since he is gone,  
Serves but to pull our speedy ruin on.  Boab. 
Of all Mankind, the heaviest Fate he bears  
Who the last Crown of sinking Empire wears.  
No kindly Planet of his Birth took care:  
heavens Outcast; and the Dross of every Star!  A tumultuous noise within Enter Abdelmelech. 
What new misfortune do these Cries presage?  Abdel. 
They are th' effects of the mad People's rage.  
All in despair tumultuously thy swarm;  
The farthest Streets already take th' Alarm;  
The needy creep from Cellars, underground,  
To them new Cries from tops of Garrets sound.  
The aged from the Chimneys seek the cold;  
And Wives from Windows helpless Infants hold.  Boab. 
See what the many-headed Beast demands.  Exit Abdelmelech. 
Cursed is that King whose Honour's in their hands.  
In Senates, either they too slowly grant,  
Or saucily refuse to aid my want:  
And when their Thrift has ruined me in War,  
They call their Insolence my want of Care.  Aben. 
Cursed be their Leaders who that Rage foment;  
And veil with public good their discontent:  
They keep the People's Purses in their hands,  
And Hector Kings to grant their wild demands.  
But to each Lure a Court throws out, descend;  
And prey on those, they promised to defend.  Zul. 
Those Kings who to their wild demands consent,  
Teach others the same way to discontent.  
Freedom in Subjects is not; nor can be,  
But still to please 'em we must call 'em free.  
Propriety which they their Idol make,  
Or Law, or Law's Interpreters can shake.  Aben. 
The name of Commonwealth is popular;  
But there the People their own Tyrants are:  Boab. 
But Kings who rule with limited Command  
Have Players Sceptres put into their Hand.  
Power has no balance, one side still weighs down;  
And either hoysts the Commonwealth or Crown.  
And those who think to set the Scale more right,  
By various turnings but disturb the weight.  Aben. 
While People tug for Freedom, Kings for Power,  
Both sink beneath some foreign Conqueror.:  
Then Subjects find too late they were unjust  
And want that power of Kings they durst not trust.  To them Abdelmelech. Abdel. 
The Tumult now is high and dangerous grown:  
The People talk of rendering up the Town;  
And swear that they will force the King's consent.  K. Boab. 
What Council can this rising storm prevent?  Abdel. 
Their fright to no Persuasions will give ear:  
There's a deaf madness in a People's fear.  Enter a Messenger. Mess. 
Their fury now a middle course does take:  
To yield the Town, or call Almanzor back.  Boab. 
I'll rather call my death.—  
Go, and bring up my Guards to my defence:  
I'll punish this outrageous Insolence.  Aben. 
Since blind opinion does, their reason sway,  
You must submit to cure 'em their own way.  
You to their Fancies Physic must apply:  
Give them that Chief on whom they most rely;  
Under Almanzor prosperously they fought:  
Almanzor therefore must with Prayers be brought.  Enter a Second Messenger. Sec. Mess. 
Haste all you can their fury to assuage:  
You are not safe from their rebellious rage:  Enter a Third Messenger. Third Mes. 
This Minute if you grant not their desire  
They'll seize your Person and your Palace Fire.  Abdel. 
Your danger, Sir, admits of no delay.  Boab. 
In tumults, People Reign, and Kings obey.  
Go, and appease 'em with the vow I make  
That they shall have their loved Almanzor back.  Exit Abdelmelech, 
Almanzor has th' Ascendant o'er my Fate:  
I'm forced to stoop to one I fear and hate.  
Disgraced, distressed, in exile, and alone,  
He's greater than a Monarch on his Throne.  
Without a Realm a Royalty he gains;  
Kings are the Subjects over whom he Reigns.  A shout of Acclamation's within. Aben. 
These shouts proclaim the people satisfied.  Boab. 
We for another Tempest must provide.  
To promise his return as I was loath,  
So I want power now to perform my oath.  
ere this, for Affricque he is sailed from Spain.  Aben. 
The adverse winds his passage yet detain;  
I heard, last night his equipage did stay,  
At a small Village short of Malaga.  K. Boab. 
Abenamar, this evening thither, haste;  
Desire him to forget his usage past:  
Use all your Rhet'rique; Promise; Flatter; Pray:  To them Qu. Almahide attended. Aben. 
Good Fortune shows you yet a surer way:  
Nor Prayers nor Promises his mind will move;  
'Tis inaccessible to all, but Love.  K. Boab. 
Oh, thou hast roused a thought within my breast,  
That will for ever rob me of my rest.  
Ah, Jealousy, how cruel is thy sting!  
ay, in Almanzor, a loved Rival bring!  
And now, I think it is an equal strife  
If I my Crown should hazard, or my Wife.  
Where, Marriage is thy cure, which Husbands boast,  
That, in possession, their desire is lost!  
Or why, have I alone that wretched taste  
Which, gorged and glutted, does with hunger last!  
Custom and Duty, cannot set me free,  
Even Sin itself has not a Charm for me.  
Of married Lovers I am sure the first.  
And nothing but a King could so be cursed.  Q. Almah. 
What sadness sits upon your Royal Heart?  
Have you a Grief, and must not I have part?  
All Creatures else a time of Love possess:  
Man only clogs with cares his happiness.  
And, while he should enjoy his part of Bliss,  
With thoughts of what may be, destroys what is.  K. Boab. 
You guessed aright; I am oppressed with grief:  
And 'tis from you that I must seek relief.  To the Company. 
Leave us, to sorrow there's a reverence due:  
Sad Kings, like Suns Eclipsed, withdraw from view.  The Attendants go off: and Chairs are set for the King and Queen. Almah. 
So, two kind Turtles, when a storm is nigh,  
Look up; and see it gathering in the Sky:  
Each calls his Mate to shelter in the Groves,  
Leaving, in murmurs, their unfinished Loves▪  
Perched on some dropping Branch they sit alone,  
And Cooe, and hearken to each others moan.  Boab. taking her by the hand. 
Since, Almahide, you seem so kind a Wife,  
What would you do to save a Husband's life?  Almah. 
When Fate calls on that hard Necessity,  
I'll suffer death rather than you shall die.  Boab. 
Suppose your Country should in danger be;  
What would you undertake to set it free?  Almah. 
It were too little to resign my Breath:  
My own free Hand should give me nobler Death.  Boab. 
That Hand, which would so much for Glory do,  
Must yet do more; for it must kill me too.  
You must kill Me, for that dear Country's sake:  
Or what's all one, must call Almanzor back.  Almah. 
I see to what your Speech you now direct;  
Either my Love or Virtue you suspect.  
But know, that when my person I resigned,  
I was too noble not to give my mind:  
No more the shadow of Almanzor fear;  
I have no room but for your Image, here.  Boab. 
This, Almahide would make me cease to mourn,  
Were that Almanzor never to return:  
But now my fearful People mutiny;  
Their clamours call Almanzor back, not I  
Their safety, through my ruin, I pursue;  
He must return; and must be brought by you.  Almah. 
That hour when I my Faith to you did plight  
I banished him for ever from my sight.  
His banishment was to my Virtue due;  
Not that I feared him for myself, but you.  
My Honour had preserved me innocent:  
But I would your suspicion too prevent.  
Which, since I see augmented in your mind,  
I, yet more reason for his Exile find.  K. Boab. 
To your entreaties he will yield alone:  
And, on your doom, depend my Life and Throne.  
No longer therefore my desires withstand;  
Or, if desires prevail not, my Command.  Q. Almah. 
In his return too sadly I foresee  
Th' effects of your returning jealousy;  
But, your Command I prise above my life:  
'Tis sacred to a Subject and a Wife:  
If I have power Almanzor shall return.  Boab. letting go her hand and starting up. 
Cursed be that fatal hour when I was born!  
You love; you love him; and that love reveal  
By your too quick consent to his repeal.  
My jealousy had but too just a ground;  
And now you stab into my former wound.  Q. Almah. 
This sudden change I do not understand;  
Have you so soon forgot your own Command?  Boab. 
Grant that I did th' unjust injunction lay,  
You should have loved me more than to obey.  
I know you did this mutiny design;  
But your Love-plot I'll quickly countermine.  
Let my Crown go; he never shall return;  
I, like a Phoenix in my Nest will burn.  Almah. 
You please me well that in one common Fate  
You wrap yourself and Me, and all your State:  
Let us no more of proud Almanzor hear:  
'Tis better once to die, than still to fear.  
And better many times to die, than be  
Obliged past payment to an Enemy.  Boab. 
'Tis better; but you wives still have one way:  
When e'er your Husbands are obliged, you pay.  Almah. 
Thou, Heaven, who knowst it, judge my innocence.  
You, Sir, deserve not I should make defence.  
Yet, judge my Virtue by that proof I gave,  
When I submitted to be made your Slave.  Boab. 
If I have been suspicious or unkind,  
Forgive me; many cares distract my mind.  
Love, and a Crown!  
Two such excuses no one Man e'er had;  
And each of'em enough to make me mad:  
But now, my Reason reassumes its Throne:  
And finds no safety when Almanzor's gone.  
Send for him, then; I'll be obliged; and sue;  
'Tis a less evil than to part with you.  
I leave you to your thoughts; but love me still!  
Forgive my Passion, and obey my Will.  Exit Boabdelin. 
Almahide Sola.  
My jealous Lord will soon to Rage return;  
That Fire his Fear rakes up, does inward burn.  
But Heaven which made me great, has chose for me:  
I must th' oblation for my People be.  
I'll cherish Honour, then, and Life despise;  
What is not Pure, is not for Sacrifice.  
Yet, for Almanzor I in secret mourn!  
Can Virtue, then, admit of his return?  
Yes; for my Love I will, by Virtue, square;  
My Heart's not mine; but all my Actions are.  
I'll, like Almanzor, act; and dare to be  
As haughty, and as wretched too as he.  
What will he think is in my Message meant!  
I scarcely understand my own intent:  
But Silk-worm-like, so long within have wrought,  
That I am lost in my own Webb of thought.  Exit Almahide.   

ACT. II.  

SCENE A Wood  Ozmyn and Benzayda. Ozm. 
'TIs true that our protection here has been  
Th' effect of Honour in the Spanish Queen.  
But, while I as a friend continue here,  
ay, to my Country, must a Foe appear.  Benz. 
Think not my Ozmyn, that we here remain  
As friends, but Prisoners to the Power of Spain.  
Fortune dispenses with your Country's right;  
But you desert your honour in your flight:  Ozm. 
I cannot leave you here, and go away;  
My Honour's glad of a pretence to stay.  A noise within follow, follow, follow— Enter Selin; his sword drawn; as pursued. Selin. 
I am pursued, and now am spent and done;  
My limbs suffice me not with strength to run.  
And, if I could, alas, what can I save;  
A year, the dregs of life too, from the grave.  sits down on the ground. 
Here will I sit, and here attend my fate;  
With the same hoary Majesty and State  
As Rome's old Senate for the Galls did wait.  Ben. 
It is my father; and he seems distressed:  Ozmyn. 
My honour bids me succour the oppressed:  
That life he sought, for his I'll freely give;  
We'll die together; or together live.  Benz. 
I'll call more succour, since the Camp is near;  
And fly on all the wings of Love and fear.  Exit Benz. Enter Abenamar and four or five Moors. He looks; and finds Selin. Aben. 
you've lived, and now behold your latest hour.  Selin. 
I scorn your malice, and defy your power.  
A speedy death is all I ask you now;  
And that's a favour you may well allow.  Ozmyn; showing himself. 
Who gives you death shall give it first to me;  
Fate cannot separate our destiny.  knows his father. 
My father here! then Heaven itself has laid  
The snare, in which my virtue is betrayed.  Aben. 
Fortune, I thank thee, thou hast kindly done,  
To bring me back that fugitive my Son.  
In arms too; fight for my Enemy!  
I'll do a Roman justice; thou shalt die.  Ozm. 
I beg not, you my forfeit life would save:  
Yet add one Minute to that breath you gave.  
I disobeyed you; and deserve my fate,  
But bury in my grave two houses hate.  
Let Selin live; and see your Justice done  
On me, while you revenge him for his Son:  
Your mutual malice in my death may cease;  
And equal loss persuade you both to peace.  Aben. to a Sold. 
Yes; justice shall be done, on him and thee:  
Haste; and dispatch 'em both immediately.  Ozmyn. 
If you have honour, (since you Nature want)  
For your own sake my last Petition grant:  
And kill not a disarmed, defenceless foe:  
Whose death your cruelty, or fear will show.  
My Father cannot do an Act so base:  
My Father! I mistake: I meant, who was!  Aben. 
Go, then, dispatch him first who was my Son.  Ozmyn. 
Swear but to save his life, I'll yield my own;  Aben. 
Nor tears, nor prayers thy life, or his shall buy.  Ozmyn putting himself before Selin. 
Then Sir, Benzaida's father shall not die.  
And, since he'll want defence when I am gone,  
I will, to save his life, defend my own.  Aben. 
This justice Parricides like thee should have:  Aben. and his party attack them both. Ozmyn parryes his father's thrusts; and thrusts at the others. Enter Benzayda, with Abdalla, the Duke of Arcos, and Spaniards. Benz. 
O help my father, and my Ozmyn save.  Abdal. 
Villains, that death you have deserved, is near.  Ozmyn stops his hand. 
Stay Prince; and know I have a father here.  
I were that Parricide of whom he spoke  
Did not my piety prevent your stroke.  Arcos to Aben. 
Depart, then, and thank Heaven you had a Son:  Aben. 
I am not with these shows of duty won.  Ozm. to his father. 
Heaven knows I would that life you seek, resign,  
But, while Benzayda lives it is not mine.  
Will you yet pardon my unwilling crime!  Aben. 
By no entreaties; by no length of time  
Will I be won: but, with my latest breath,  
I'll curse thee here: and haunt thee after death.  Exit Abenamar with his party. Ozmyn kneeling to Selin. 
Can you be merciful to that degree  
As to forgive my Father's faults in me?  
Can you forgive  
The death of him I slew in my defence;  
And, from the malice, separate th' offence  
I can no longer be your Enemy:  
In short, now kill me, Sir, or pardon me.  Offers him his sword. 
In this your silence my hard fate appears!  Selin. 
I'll answer you, when I can speak for tears.  
But, till I can—  
Imagine what must needs be brought to pass: Embraces him.  
My heart's not made of Marble, nor of Brass.  
Did I for you a cruel death prepare,  
And have you— have you, made my life your care!  
There is a shame contracted by my faults,  
Which hinders me to speak my secret thoughts.  
And I will tell you (when that shame's removed,)  
You are not better by my Daughter loved.  
Benzaida be yours— I can no more.  Ozmyn embracing his knees. 
Blessed be that breath which does my life restore.  Benz. 
I hear my father now; these words confess  
That name; and that indulgent tenderness.  Selin. 
Benzaida, I have been too much to blame;  
But, let your goodness expiate for my shame;  
You, Ozmyn's virtue did in chains adore;  
And part of me was just to him before.  
My Son! to him.  Ozmyn. 
My father!  Selin. 
— Since by you I live,  
I, for your sake, your family forgive.  
Let your hard father still my life pursue;  
I hate not him, but for his hate to you:  
Even that hard father yet may one day be  
By kindness vanquished as you vanquished me.  
Or, if my death can quench to you his rage,  
Heaven makes good use of my remaining age.  Abdal. 
I grieve your joys are mingled with my cares.  
But all take interest in their own affairs:  
And therefore I must ask how mine proceed.  Selin. 
They now are ripe; and but your presence need:  
For, Lyndaraxa, faithless as the wind,  
Yet to your better Fortunes will be kind:  
For, hearing that the Christians own your cause,  
From thence th' assurance of a Throne she draws.  
And, since Almanzor, whom she most did fear  
Is gone; she to no Treaty will give ear;  
But sent me her unkindness to excuse.  Abdal. 
You much surprise me with your pleasing news.  Selin. 
But, Sir, she hourly does th' assault expect:  
And must be lost, if you her Aid neglect.  
For Abdelmelech loudly does declare  
He'll use the last extremities of War;  
Since she refused the Fortress to resign.  Abdal. 
The charge of hastening this Relief be mine.  Selin. 
This, while I undertook, whether beset  
Or else by chance, Abenamar I met;  
Who seemed in haste returning to the Town.  Abdal. 
My Love must in my diligence be shown.  
And as my pledge of Faith to Spain, this hour  
I'll put the Fortress in your Master's power.  To Arcos. Selin. 
An open way from hence to it there lies.  
And we with ease may send in large supplies,  
Free from the shot and Sallies of the Town;  Arcos. 
Permit me, Sir, to share in your renown;  
First to my King I will impart the news,  
And then draw out what Succours we shall use.  Exit Duke of Arcos. Abdal. 
Grant that she loves me not, at least I see  aside. 
She loves not others, if she loves not me.  
'Tis Pleasure when we reap the fruit of Pain;  
'Tis only Pride to be beloved again.  
How many are not loved who think they are;  
Yet all are willing to believe the Fair:  
And, though 'tis Beauties known and obvious Cheat,  
Yet Man's self-love still favours the deceit.  Exit Abdalla. Selin. 
Farewell, my Children; equally so dear  
That I myself am to myself less near.  
While I repeat the dangers of the War,  
Your mutual safety be each others care.  
Your Father, Ozmyn, till the War be done,  
As much as Honour will permit, I'll shun.  
If by his sword I perish; let him know  
It was because I would not be his Foe.  Ozmyn. 
Goodness and Virtue all your Actions guide▪  
You only err in choosing of your side.  
That party I with Honour cannot take▪  
But can much less the care of you forsake  
I must not draw my sword against my Prince,  
But yet may hold a Shield in your defence▪  
Benzayda, free from danger here shall stay▪  
And for a Father, and a Lover, pray.  Benz. 
No, no; I gave not on those terms my Heart,  
That from my Ozmyn I should ever part.  
That Love I vowed when you did death attend  
'Tis just that nothing but my death should end.  
What Merchant is it who would stay behind,  
His whole stock ventured to the Waves and Wind.  
I'll pray for both; but both shall be in sight;  
And Heaven shall hear me pray, and see you fight.  Selin. 
No longer, Ozmyn, combat a design,  
Where so much Love and so much virtue join.  Ozmyn to her. 
Then Conquer, and your Conquest happy be  
Both to yourself, your Father, and to me.  
With bended knees our freedom we'll demand  
Of Isabel, and mighty Ferdinand.  
Then, while the paths of Honour we pursue,  
We'll interest Heaven for us, in right of you▪  Exeunt  

SCENE. The Albayzin.  An Alarm within; then Soldiers running over the Stage. Enter Abdelmelech victorious with Soldiers. Abdel. 
'Tis won, 'tis won; and Lyndaraxa, now,  
Who scorned to Treat, shall to a Conquest bow.  
To every sword I free Commission give;  
Fall on, my Friends, and let no Rebel live.  
Spare only Lyndaraxa; let her be  
In Triumph led to grace my Victory.  
Since, by her falsehood she betrayed my Love,  
Great as that falsehood my Revenge shall prove.  Enter Lyndaraxa, as affrighted; attended by women. 
Go take th' Enchantress, bring her to me bound.  Lynd. 
Force needs not, where resistance is not found:  
I come, myself to offer you my hands;  
And, of my own accord, invite your bands.  
I wished to be my Abdelmeleches Slave;  
I did but wish, and easy Fortune gave.  Abdel. 
O, more than Woman, false! but 'tis in vain.  
Can you e'er hope to be believed again?  
I'll sooner trust th' Hyaena than your smile;  
Or, than your Tears, the weeping Crocodile.  
In War and Love none should be twice deceived;  
The fault is mine if you are now believed.  Lynd. 
Be overwise, thou, and too late repent;  
Your Crime will carry its own punishment.  
I am well pleased not to be justified:  
I owe no satisfaction to your pride.  
It will be more advantage to my Fame,  
To have it said, I never owned a Flame.  Abdel. 
'Tis true; my pride has satisfied itself:  
I have at length escaped the deadly shelf.  
Th' excuses you prepare will be in vain,  
Till I am fool enough to love again.  Lynd. 
Am I not loved!  Abdel. 
— I must, with shame, avow  
I loved you once; but do not love you now.  Lynd. 
Have I for this betrayed Abdalla's Trust!  
You are to me as I to him unjust. Angrily.  Abdel. 
'Tis like you have done much for love of me,  
Who kept the Fortress for my Enemy.  Lynd. 
'Tis true, I took the Fottress from his hand;  
But, since, have kept it in my own Command.  Abdel. 
That act your foul Ingratitude did show.  Lynd. 
You are th' ungrateful, since 'twas kept for you.  Abdel. 
'Twas kept indeed; but not by your intent,  
For all your kindness I may thank th' event.  
Blush, Lindaraxa for so gross a cheat;  
'Twas kept for me when you refused to Treat!  Ironically. Lynd. 
Blind Man! I knew the weakness of the place:  
It was my plot to do your Arms this Grace:  
Had not my care of your renown been great,  
I loved enough to offer you to Treat.  
She who is loved must little Let's create.  
But you bold Lovers are to force your Fate.  
This force you used my Maiden blush will save;  
You seemed to take what secretly I gave.  
I knew we must be Conquered; but I knew  
What Confidence I might repose in you.  
I knew you were too grateful to expose  
My Friends and Soldiers to be used like Foes.  Abdel. 
Well; though I love you not, their lives shall be  
Spared out of Pity and Humanity. To a Soldier.  
Alferez, Go, and let the slaughter cease.  Lynd. 
Then must I to your pity owe my peace!  Exit the Alferez. 
Is that the tenderest term you can afford!  
Time was, you would have used another word.  Abdel. 
Then, for your Beauty I your Soldiers spare;  
For though I do not love you, your are fair.  Lynd. 
That little Beauty, why did Heaven impart  
To please your Eyes, but not to move your Heart!  
I'll shroud this Gorgon from all humane view;  
And own no Beauty, since it charms not you!  
Reverse your Orders, and our Sentence give;  
My Soldiers shall not from my Beauty live.  Abdel. 
Then, from our Friendship they their lives shall gain;  
Though love be dead, yet friendship does remain.  Lynd. 
That friendship which from withered Love does shoot,  
Like the faint Herbage of a Rock, wants root.  
Love is a tender Amity, refined:  
Grafted on friendship it exalts the kind.  
But when the Graff no longer does remain  
The dull Stock lives; but never bears again.  Abdel. 
Then, that my Friendship may not doubtful prove,  
(Fool that I am to tell you so,) I love.  
You would extort this knowledge from my Breast;  
And tortured me so long that I confessed.  
Now I expect to suffer for my Sin;  
My Monarchy must end; and yours begin.  Lynd. 
Confess not Love, but spare yourself that shame:  
And call your Passion by some other name.  
Call this assault, your Malice, or your Hate;  
Love owns no acts so disproportionate.  
Love never taught this insolence you show, Alferez.  
To Treat your Mistress like a conquered Foe,  
Is this th' obedience which my Heart should move!  
This usage looks more like a Rape than Love.  Abdel. 
What proof of Duty would you I should give?  Lynd. 
'Tis Grace enough to let my Subjects live:  
Let your rude Soldiers keep possession still;  
Spoil, riflle, pillage, any thing but kill.  
In short, Sir, use your fortune as you please;  
Secure my Castle, and my person seize-  
Let your true men my Rebels hence remove;  
I shall dream on; and think 'tis all your love.  Abdel. 
You know too well my weakness and your power.  
Why did Heaven make a fool a Conqueror!  
She was my slave; till she by me was shown  
How weak my force was, and how strong her own.  
Now she has beat my power from every part;  
Made her way open to my naked heart: To a Sold.  
Go, strictly charge my Soldiers to retreat:  
Those countermand who are not entered yet.  
On peril of your lives leave all things free.  Exit Soldier. 
Now, Madam, love Abdalla more than me.  
I only ask, in duty, you would bring  
The keys of our Albazin to the King:  
I'll make your terms as gentle as you please.  Trumpets sound a charge within: and Soldier's shout. 
What shouts; and what new sounds of war are these?  Lind. 
Fortune, I hope, has favoured my intent aside.  
Of gaining time; and welcome succours sent.  Enter Alferez. Alf. 
All's lost; and you are fatally deceived:  
The foe is entered: and the place relieved.  
Scarce from the walls had I drawn off my men  
When, from their Camp, the Enemy rushed in:  
And Prince Abdalla entered first the gate.  Abdel. 
I am betrayed; and find it now too late. to her.  
When your proud Soul to flatteries did descend,  
I might have known it did some ill portend.  
The wary Seaman stormy weather fears,  
When winds shift often, and no cause appears.  
You, by my bounty live—  
Your Brothers, too, were pardoned for my sake,  
And this return your gratitude does make.—  Lind. 
My Brothers best their own obligements know;  
Without your charging me with what they owe.  
But, since you think th' obligement is so great,  
I'll bring a friend to satisfy my debt. looking behind.  Abdel. 
Thou shalt not triumph in thy base design,  
Though not thy fort, thy person shall be mine.  He goes to take her; she runs and cries help: Enter Abdalla, Arcos, Spaniards. Abdelmelech retreats fight: and is pursued by the adverse party off the Stage. a Alarm within. Enter again Abdalla and the Duke of Arcos. with Lyndaraxa. Arcos. 
Bold Abdelmelech twice our Spaniards faced;  
Though much outnumbered; and retreated last.  Abdalla to Lyndar. 
Your Beauty, as it moves no common fire,  
So it no common courage can inspire.  
As he fought well, so had he prospered too,  
If, Madam, he like me, had fought for you.  Lind. 
Fortune, at last has chosen with my eyes;  
And, where I would have given it, placed the prize.  
You see, Sir, with what hardship I have kept  
This precious gage which in my hands you left.  
But I was the love of you which made me fight.  
And gave me Courage to maintain your right  
Now, by Experience you my faith may find;  
And are to thank me that I seemed unkind.  
When your malicious fortune doomed your fall  
My care restrained you, then, from losing all.  
Against your destiny I shut the Gate:  
And Gathered up the Shipwrecks of your fate.  
ay, like a friend, did even yourself withstand,  
From throwing all upon a losing hand.  Abdal. 
My love makes all your Acts unquestioned go:  
And sets a Sovereign stamp on all you do.  
Your Love, I will believe with hoodwinked eyes;  
In faith, much merit in much blindness lies.  
But now, to make you great as you are fair,  
The Spaniards an Imperial Crown prepare.  Lin. 
That gift's more welcome, which with you I share:  
Let us no time in fruitless courtship lose,  
But sally out upon our frighted Foes.  
No Ornaments of power so please my eyes  
As purple, which the blood of Princes, dyes.  Exeunt. He leading her.  

SCENE, The Alhambra.  Boabdelin, Abenamar, Almahide; Guards, etc. The Queen wearing a Scarf. Abenamar. 
My little journey has successful been;  
The fierce Almanzor will obey the Queen.  
I found him, like Achilles on the shore,  
Pensive, complaining much, but threatening more.  
And▪ like that injured Greek, he heard our woes:  
Which, while I told, a gloomy smile arose  
From his bend brows; and still, the more he heard,  
A more severe and sullen joy appeared.  
But, when he knew we to despair were driven,  
Betwixt his teeth he muttered thanks to Heaven.  Boab. 
How I disdain this aid; which I must take  
No for my own, but Almahida's sake.  Aben. 
But, when he heard it was the Queen who sent;  
That her command repealed his banishment,  
He took the summons with a greedy joy,  
And asked me how she would his sword employ?  
Then bid me say, her humblest slave would come  
From her fair mouth with joy to take his doom.  Boab. 
Oh that I had not sent you! though it cost  
My Crown; though I and it, and all were lost!  Aben. 
While I to bring this news, came on before,  
I met with Selin—  Boab. 
— I can hear no more.  Enter Hamet. Hamet. 
Almanzor is already at the gate  
And throngs of people on his entrance wait.  Boab. 
Thy news does all my faculties surprise,  
He bears two Basilisks in those fierce eyes.  
And that tame Demon, which should guard my throne,  
Shrinks at a Genius greater than his own.  Exit Boabdelin, with Aben. and Guards. Enter Almanzor; seeing Almahide approach him, he speaks. Alman. 
So Venus moves when to the thunderer  
In smiles or tears she would some suit prefer.  
When with her Cestos girt—  
And drawn by Doves, she cuts the liquid skies,  
And kindles gentle fires where 'ere she flies:  
To every eye a Goddess is confessed:  
By all the Heavenly Nation she is blessed,  
And each with secret joy admits her to his breast.  To her bowing. 
Madam, your new Commands I come to know:  
If yet you can have any where I go:  
If to the Regions of the dead they be,  
You take the speediest course, to send by me.  Almah. 
Heaven has not destined you so soon to rest:  
Heroes must live to succour the distressed.  Almanz. 
To serve such beauty all mankind should live:  
And, in our service, our reward you give:  
But, stay me not in torture, to behold  
And ne'er enjoy: as from another's gold;  
The Miser hastens in his own defence,  
And shuns the sight of tempting excellence;  
So, having seen you once so killing fair,  
A second sight were but to move despair.  
I take my eyes from what too much would please.  
As men in favours famish their disease.  Almah. 
No; you may find your Cure an easier way,  
If you are pleased to seek it; in your stay.  
All objects lose by too familiar view,  
When that great charm is gone of being new.  
By often seeing me, you soon will find  
Defects so many in my face and mind,  
That to be freed from Love you need not doubt;  
And, as you looked it in, you'll look it out.  Almanz. 
ay, rather, like weak armies should retreat;  
And so prevent my more entire defeat.  
For your own sake in quiet let me go:  
Press not too far on a despairing foe:  
I may turn back; and armed against you move  
With all the furious train of hopeless love.  Almah. 
Your honour cannot to ill thoughts give way;  
And mine can run no hazard by your stay.  Almanz. 
Do you, then, think I can with patience, see  
That sovereign good possessed, and not by me?  
No; I all day shall languish at the sight;  
And rave on what I do not see, all night.  
My quick imagination will present  
The Scenes and Images of your Content:  
When to my envied Rival you dispense  
Joys too unruly, and too fierce for sense.  Almahide, 
These are the day-dreams which wild fancy yields  
Empty as shadows are, that fly o'er fields.  
O, whether would this boundless fancy move!  
'Tis but the raging Calenture of Love.  
Like the distracted Passenger you stand,  
And see, in Seas, imaginary Land.  
Cool Groves, and Flowers Meads, and while you think  
To walk, plunge in, and wonder that you sink.  Alman. 
Love's Calenture too well I understand;  
But sure your Beauty is no Fairy Land!  
Of your own Form a Judge you cannot be;  
For, Glow-worm-like, you shine, and do not see:  Almah. 
Can you think this, and would you go away?  Alman. 
What recompense attends me if I stay?  Almah. 
You know I am from recompense debarred;  
But I will grant you merit a reward.  
Your Flame's too noble to deserve a Cheat;  
And I too plain to practise a Deceit.  
I no return of Love can ever make;  
But what I ask is for my Husband's sake,  
He, I confess, has been ungrateful too;  
But he and I are ruined if you go▪  
Your Virtue to the hardest proof I bring:  
Unbribed, preserve a Mistress and a King.  Alman. 
I'll stop at nothing that appears so brave;  
I'll do't: and now I no Reward will have.  
You've given my Honour such an ample Field  
That I may die, but that shall never yield.  
Spite of myself I'll Stay, Fight, Love, Despair;  
And I can do all this, because I dare.  
Yet I may own one suit.—  
That Scarf, which since by you it has been born  
Is Blessed, like Relics, which by Saints were worn:  Almah. 
Presents like this my Virtue durst not make  
But that 'tis given you for my Husband's sake.  Gives the Scarf. Alman. 
This Scarf, to Honourable Rags I'll wear:  
As conquering Soldiers tattered Ensigns bear.  
But oh how much my Fortune I despise,  
Which gives me Conquest, while she Love denies.  Exeunt.   

ACT. III.  

SCENE, The Alhambra.  Almahide, Esperanza. Espe. 
AFFected Modesty has much of Pride;  
That scarf he begged, you could not have denied:  
Nor does it shock the Virtue of a Wife,  
When given that man, to whom you owe your life.  Almah. 
Heaven knows from all intent of ill 'twas free:  
Yet it may feed my Husband's jealousy,  
And, for that cause, I wish it were not done.  To them Boabdelin; and walks apart: 
See where he comes all pensive and alone;  
A gloomy Fury has o'erspread his Face:  
'Tis so! and all my Fears are come to pass.  Boabdelin aside. 
Marriage, thou curse of Love; and snare of Life,  
That first debased a Mistress to a Wife!  
Love, like a Scene, at distance should appear;  
But Marriage views the gross-daubed Landscape near.  
Love's nauseous cure! thou cloyst whom thou shouldst pleas;  
And, when thou cur'st, than thou art the disease.  
When Hearts are loose, thy Chain our bodies ties;  
Love couples Friends; but Marriage Enemies.  
If Love, like mine, continues after thee,  
'Tis soon made sour, and turned by Jealousy.  
No sign of Love in jealous Men remains  
But that which sick men have of life; their pains.  Almahide walking to him. 
Has my dear Lord some new affliction had?  
Have I done any thing that makes him sad?  Boab. 
You, nothing, You! but let me walk alone!  Almah. 
I will not leave you till the cause be known:  
My knowledge of the ill may bring relief;  Boab. 
Thank ye: You never fail to cure my grief!  
Trouble me not; my grief concerns not you.  Almah. 
While I have life I will your steps pursue.  Boab. 
I'm out of humour now; you must not stay.  Almah. 
I fear it is that Scarf I gave away.  Boab. 
No; 'tis not that: but speak of it no more:  
Go hence; I am not what I was before.  Almah. 
Then I will make you so: give me your hand!  
Can you this pressing, and these Tears withstand?  Boab sighing and going off from her 
O Heaven, were she but mine, or mine alone!  
Ah, why are not the Hearts of Women known!  
False Women to new joys, unseen can move:  
There are no prints left in the paths of Love.  
All Goods besides by public marks are known;  
But what we most desire to keep, has none.  Almah. approaching him. 
Why will you in your Breast your passion crowd  
Like unborn Thunder rolling in a Cloud?  
Torment not your poor Heart; but set it free;  
And rather let its fury break on me.  
I am not married to a God; I know,  
Men must have Passions, and can bear from you.  
I fear th' unlucky Present I have made!  Boab. 
O power of Gild; how Conscience can upbraid!  
It forces her not only to reveal  
But to repeat what she would most conceal!  Almah. 
Can such a toy, and given in public too—  Boab. 
False Woman, you contrived it should be so.  
That public Gift in private was designed,  
The Emblem of the Love you meant to bind.  
Hence from my sight, ungrateful as thou art;  
And, when I can, I'll banish thee my heart.  she weeps. To them Almanzor wearing the scarf: he sees her weep. Almanz. 
What precious drops are those  
Which, silently, each others tract pursue,  
Bright as young Diamonds in their infant dew?  
Your lustre you should free from tears maintain;  
Like Egypt, rich without the help of rain.  
Now cursed be he who gave this cause of grief;  
And double cursed who does not give relief.  Almah. 
Our common fears, and public miseries  
Have drawn these tears from my afflicted eyes.  Alman. 
Madam, I cannot easily believe  
It is for any public cause you grieve.  
On your fair face the marks of sorrow lie;  
But I read fury in your Husband's eye.  
And, in that passion, I too plainly find  
That you're unhappy; and that he's unkind.  Almah. 
Not new-made Mothers greater love express  
Than he; when with first looks their babes they bless.  
Not Heaven is more to dying Martyrs Kind;  
Nor guardian Angels to their charge asigned.  Boab. 
O goodness counterfeited to the life!  
O the well acted virtue of a wife.  
Would you with this my just suspicions blind?  
You've given me great occasion to be kind!  
The marks, too, of your spotless love appear;  
Witness the badge of my dishonour there.  Pointing to Almonzor's scarf. Almanz. 
Unworthy owner of a gem so rare!  
heavens, why must he possess, and I despair!  
Why is this Miser doomed to all this store:  
He who has all, and yet believes he's poor?  Almah. to Almanz. 
You're much too bold, to blame a jealousy,  
So kind in him, and so desired by me.  
The faith of wives would unrewarded prove,  
Without those just observers of our love.  
The greater care the higher passion shows;  
We hold that dearest we most fear to lose.  
Distrust in Lovers is too warm a Sun,  
But yet 'tis Night in Love when that is gone.  
And, in those Climbs which most his scorching know,  
He makes the noblest fruits and Metals grow.  Alman. 
Yes, there are mines of Treasure in your breast,  
Seen by that jealous Sun; but not possessed.  
He, like a devil among the blessed above,  
Can take no pleasure in your Heaven of love.  
Go, take her; and thy causeless fears remove; To the K.  
Love her so well that I with rage may die:  
Dull husbands have no right to jealousy:  
If that's allowed, it must in Lovers be.  Boab. 
The succour which thou bring'st me makes thee bold:  
But know, without thy aid, my Crown I'll hold.  
Or, if I cannot, I will fire the place:  
Of a full City make a naked space.  
Hence, then, and from a Rival set me free:  
I'll do; I'll suffer any thing, but thee.  Almanz. 
I wonot go; I'll not be forced away:  
I came not for thy sake; nor do I stay.  
It was the Queen who for my aid did send;  
And 'tis I only can the Queen defend:  
I, for her sake thy Sceptre will maintain;  
And thou, by me, in spite of thee, shalt reign,  Boab. 
Had I but hope I could defend this place;  
Three days, thou shouldst not live to my disgrace.  
So small a time—  
Might I possess my Almahide, alone,  
I would live ages out'ere they were gone.  
I should not be of love or life bereft;  
All should be spent before; and nothing left.  Almahide to Boabdelin. 
As for your sake for Almanzor sent,  
So, when you please, he goes to banishment.  
You shall, at last, my Loyalty approve:  
I will refuse no trial of my love.  Boab. 
How can I think you love me, while I see  
That trophy of a Rival's Victory?  
I'll tear it from his side▪—  Almanz. 
— I'll hold it fast  
As life: and, when life's gone, I'll hold this last.  
And, if thou tak'st it after I am slain,  
I'll send my Ghost to fetch it back again.  Almah. 
When I bestowed that scarf, I had not thought  
Or not considered, it might be a faued.  
But, since my Lord's displeased that I should make  
So small a present, I command it back.  
Without delay th' unlucky gift restore;  
Or, from this minute, never see me more.  Almanz. pulling it off hastily, and presenting it to her. 
The shock of such a curse I dare not stand,  
Thus I obey your absolute command.  She gives it the King. 
Must he the spoils of scorned Almanzor wear?  
May Turnu's fate be thine; who dared to bear  
The belt of murdered Pallas; from afar  
Mayst thou be known; and be the mark of War.  
Live just to see it from thy shoulders torn  
By common hands, and by some Coward worn.  a Alarm within. Enter Abdelmelech, Zulema, Hamet, Abenamar: their swords drawn. Abdelm. 
Is this a time for discord or for grief?  
We perish, Sir, without your quick relief.  
I have been fooled, and am unfortunate.  
The foes pursue their fortune; and our fate.  Zul. 
The Rebels with the Spaniards are agreed.  Boab. 
Take breath; my guards shall to the fight succeed.  Abenam. to Alman. 
Why stay you, Sir, the conquering foe is near:  
Give us their courage; and give them our fear.  Hamet. 
Take Arms, or we must perish in your sight.  Alman. 
I care not; perish; for I will not fight.  
I wonot lift an arm in his defence:  
And yet I wonot stir one foot from hence.  
I to your King's defence his town resign;  
This only spot whereon I stand, is mine. to the Queen.  
Madam, be safe; and lay aside your fear,  
You are, as in a Magic Circle, here.  Boab. 
To our own Valour our success we'll owe.  
Hast, Hamet, with Abenamar to go;  
You two draw up, with all the speed you may,  
Our last reserves, and, yet redeem the day.  Exeunt Hamet and Abenamar, one way, the King the other, with Abdelmelech, etc. Alarm within. Enter Abdelmelech, his sword drawn. Abdel. 
Granada is no more! th' unhappy King  
Venturing too far, 'ere we could succour bring,  
Was, by the Duke of Arcos, Prisoner made;  
And, past relief, is to the Fort conveyed.  Almanz. 
Heaven, thou art just! go, now despise my aid.  Almah. 
Unkind Almanzor, how am I betrayed!  
Betrayed by him in whom I trusted most!  
But I will ne'er outlive what I have lost.  
Is this your succour, this your boasted love!  
I will accuse you to the Saints above!  
Almanzor vowed he would for honour fight;  
And lets my husband perish in my sight.  Exeunt Almahide and Esperanza. Almanz. 
O, I have erred; but fury made me blind:  
And, in her just reproach, my fault I find!  
I promised even for him to fight, whom I—  
— But since he's loved by her he must not die.  
Thus, happy fortune comes to me in vain,  
When I myself must ruin it again.  To him Abenamar, Hamet, Abdelmelech, Zulema; Soldiers. Aben. 
The foe has entered the Vermilion towrs;  
And nothing but th' Alhambra now is ours.  Alman. 
Even that's too much, except we may have more;  
You lost it all to that last stake before:  
Fate, now come back; thou canst not farther get;  
The bounds of thy libration here are set.  
Thou know'st this place,—  
And, like a Clock wound up, strik'st here for me;  
Now, Chance, assert thy own inconstancy:  
And, Fortune, fight, that thou mayst Fortune be.  
They come; here, favoured by the narrow place, A noise within.  
I can, with few, their gross Battalion face.  
By the dead wall, you, Abdelmelech, wind;  
Then, charge; and their retreat cut off behind.  a Alarm within. Exeunt. Enter Almanzor and his party, with Abdalla Prisoner. Alman. to Abdal. 
You were my friend; and to that name, I owe  
The just regard, which you refused to show.  
Your liberty I frankly would restore;  
But honour now forbids me to do more.  
Yet, Sir, your freedom in your choice shall be;  
When you command to set your Brother free.  Abdalla. 
Th' exchange which you propose, with joy I take;  
An offer, easier than my hopes could make.  
Your benefits revenge my crimes to you:  
For, I my shame in that bright Mirror, view.  Alman. 
No more; you give me thanks you do not owe,  
I have been faulty; and repent me now.  
But, though our Penitence a virtue be,  
Mean Souls alone repent in misery.  
The brave own faults when good success is given:  
For than they come on equal terms to Heaven.  Exeunt.  

SCENE The Albayzin.  Ozmyn and Benzayda. Benz. 
I see there's somewhat which you fear to tell;  
Speak quickly, Ozmyn, is my father well?—  
— Why cross you thus your arms; and shake your head?  
Kill me at once, and tell me he is dead.  Ozmyn. 
I know not more than you; but fear not less;  
Twice sinking, twice I drew him from the press.  
But the victorious Foe pursued so fast,  
That flying throngs divided us at last.  
As Seamen, parting in a gen'ral wreck,  
When first the loosening planks begin to crack  
Each catches one; and strait are far disjoind,  
Some born by tides and others by the wind,  
So, in this ruin, from each other rent,  
With heaved up hands we mutual farewells sent;  
Methought his Eyes, when just I lost his view,  
Were looking blessings to be sent to you.  Benz. 
Blind Queen of Chance, to Lovers too severe,  
Thou rul'st Mankind, but art a Tyrant there!  
Thy widest Empyre's in a lover's breast:  
Like open Seas we seldom are at rest.  
Upon thy Coasts our wealth is daily cast;  
And thou, like Pirates, mak'st no peace to last.  To them Lyndaraxa, Duke of Arcos, and Guards. D. Arcos. 
We were suprized when least we did suspect;  
And justly suffered by our own neglect.  Lynd. 
No; none but I have reason to complain,  
So near a Kingdom, yet 'tis lost again!  
O, how unequally in me were joined  
A creeping fortune, with a soaring mind!  
O Lottery of fate! where still the wise  
Draw blanks of Fortune; and the fools the prize!  
These Cross ill-shuffled lots from Heaven are sent,  
Yet dull Religion teaches us content.  
But, when we ask it where that blessing dwells,  
It points to Pedant Colleges, and Cells.  
There, shows it rude, and in a homely dress;  
And that proud want mistakes for happiness.  A Trumpet within. Enter Zulema. 
Brother! what strange adventure brought you here?  Zul. 
The News I bring will yet more strange appear.  
The little care you of my life did show,  
Has of a Brother justly made a foe.  
And Abdelmelech, who that life did save  
As justly has deserved that love he gave:  Lind. 
Your business cools, while tediously it stays  
On the low Theme of Adelmeleches praise.  Zul. 
This, I present from Prince Abdalla's hands:  Delivers a letter which she reads. Lind. 
He has proposed, (to free him from his bands,)  
That, with his Brother, an Exchange be made.  Arcos. 
It proves the same design which we had laid.  
Before the Castle let a bar be set;  
And, when the Captives on each side are met,  
With equal Numbers chosen for their Guard,  
Just at the time the passage is unbarred,  
Let both at once advance, at once be free.  Lind. 
Th' Exchange I will myself in person see.  Benz. 
I fear to ask, yet would from doubt be freed,  
Is Selin Captive, Sir, or is he dead?  Zul. 
I grieve to tell you what you needs must know;  
He is a Prisoner to his greatest Foe.  
Kept, with strong guards, in the Almambra Tour;  
Without the reach even of Almanzor's power.  Ozmyn. 
With grief and shame I am at once oppressed.  Zul. 
You will be more, when I relate the rest.  
To you I from Abenamar am sent; To Ozmyn.  
And you alone can Selin's death prevent.  
Give up yourself a Prisoner in his stead;  
Or, e'er to morrow's dawn, believe him dead.  Benz. 
ere that appear I shall expire with grief.  Zul. 
Your action swift, your Council must be brief.  Lynd. 
While for Abdalla's freedom we prepare,  
You, in each others Breast unload your care.  Exeunt all but Ozmyn and Benzayda. Benz. 
My wishes contradictions must imply;  
You must not go; and yet he must not die.  
Your Reason may, perhaps, th' extremes unite;  
But there's a mist of Fate before my sight.  Ozm. 
The two Extremes too distant are to close;  
And Human Wit can no midway propose.  
My duty therefore shows the nearest way,  
To free your Father; and my own obey,  Benz. 
Your Father, whom since yours, I grieve to blame,  
Has lost, or quite forgot a Parent's name.  
And, when at once possessed of him and you,  
Instead of freeing one, will murder two.  Ozm. 
Fear not my Life; but suffer me to go:  
What cannot only Sons with Parents do!  
'Tis not my death my Father does pursue;  
He only would withdraw my Love from you.  Benz. 
Now, Ozmyn. now your want of Love I see:  
For, would you go, and hazard losing me?  Ozm. 
I rather would ten thousand Lives forsake.  
Nor can you ere believe the doubt you make.—  
— This night I with a chosen Band will go;  
And, by surprise, will free him from the Foe.  Benz. 
What Foe! ah whether would your Virtue fall!  
It is your Father whom the Foe you call.  
Darkness and Rage will no distinction make;  
And yours may perish for my Father's sake.  Ozm. 
Thus, when my weaker Virtue goes astray,  
Yours pulls it back; and guides me in the way:  
I'll send him word, my being shall depend  
On Selin's Life and with his Death shall end.  Benz. 
'Tis that indeed would glut your Father's rage:  
Revenge on Ozmyn's Youth, and Selin's age.  Ozm. 
What e'er I plot, like Sisyphus, in vain  
I heave a stone that tumbles down again!  Benz. 
This Glorious work is then reserved for me;  
He is my Father; and I'll set him free  
These Chains my Father for my sake does wear:  
I made the fault; and I the pains will bear.  Ozm. 
Yes; you no doubt have merited those pains:  
Those hands; those tender Limbs were made for chains.  
Did I not love you, yet it were too base  
To let a Lady suffer in my place.  
Those proofs of Virtue you before did show  
I did admire: but I must envy now.  
Your vast ambition leaves no Fame for me  
But grasps at universal Monarchy.  Benz. 
Yes, Ozmyn, I shall still this Palm pursue;  
I will not yield my Glory, even to you.  
I'll break those bonds in which my Father's tied:  
Or, if I cannot break 'em, I'll divide.  
What though my Limbs a Woman's weakness show;  
I have a Soul as Masculine as you.  
And, when these Limbs want strength, my Chains to wear;  
My Mind shall teach my body how to bear.  Exit Benzayda. Ozm. 
What I resolve I must not let her know;  
But Honour has decreed she must not go.  
What she resolves I must prevent with care;  
She shall not in my Fame or Danger share.  
I'll give strict Order to the Guards which wait;  
That, when she comes, she shall not pass the Gate.  
Fortune, at last, has run me out of breath;  
I have no refuge, but the arms of death:  
To that dark Sanctuary I will go:  
She cannot reach me when I lie so low.   

SCENE The Albayzin.  Enter on the one side Almanzor, Abdalla, Abdelmelech, Zulema, Hamet. On the other side the Duke of Arcos, Boabdelin, Lyndaraxa, and their party. After which the Barrs are opened; and at the same time Boabdelin and Abdalla pass by each other, each to his party: when Abdalla is passed on the other side; the Duke of Arcos approaches the Barrs, and calls to Almanzor. Arc. 
The hatred of the brave, with battles, ends;  
And Foes, who fought for Honour, then, are Friends.  
I love thee, brave Almanzor, and am proud  
To have one hour when Love may be allowed.  
This hand, in sign of that esteem, I plight:  
We shall have angry hours enough to fight.  Giving his hand. Almanz. 
The Man who dares, like you, in fields appear;  
And meet my Sword, shall be my Mistress here.  
If I am proud, 'tis only to my Foes;  
Rough but to such who Virtue would oppose.  
If I some fierceness from a Father drew,  
A Mother's Milk gives me some softness too.  Arcos. 
Since, first you took, and after set me free,  
(Whether a sense of Gratitude it be,  
Or some more secret motion of my mind,  
For which I want a name that's more than kind)  
I shall be glad, by what e'er means I can;  
To get the friendship of so brave a man:  
And would, your unavailing valour, call  
From aiding those whom Heaven has doomed to fall.  
We owe you that respect—  
Which to the Gods of Foes besieged was shown;  
To call you out before we take your Town.  Almanz. 
Those whom we love, we should esteem 'em too;  
And not debauch that Virtue which we woo.  
Yet, though you give my Honour just offence,  
I'll take your kindness in the better sense.  
And, since you for my safety seem to fear,  
I, to return your Bribe, should wish you here.  
But, since I love you more than you do me,  
In all events preserve your Honour free:  
For that's your own, though not your destiny.  Arcos. 
Were you obliged in Honour by a Trust,  
I should not think my own proposals just.  
But, since you fight for an unthankful King,  
What loss of Fame can change of parties bring?  Almanz. 
It will, and may with justice too, be thought,  
That some advantage, in that change I sought.  
And, though I twice have changed, for wrongs received,  
That it was done for profit, none believed.  
The King's Ingratitude I knew before;  
So that can be no cause of changing more.  
If now I stand, when no reward can be;  
'Twill show the fault before was not in me.  Arcos. 
Yet, there is one reward to valour due;  
And such it is, as may be sought by you.  
That beauteous Qneen: whom you can never gain,  
While you secure her Husband's Life and Reign.  Almanz. 
Then be it so: let me have no return  Here Lyndaraxa comes near and hears them. 
From him but Hatred, and from her, but Scorn.  
There is this comfort in a noble Fate,  
That I deserve to be more fortunate.  
You have my last resolve; and now farewell;  
My boding Heart some Mischief does foretell:  
But, what it is, Heaven will not let me know;  
I'm sad to death, that I must be your Foe.  Arcos. 
Heaven, when we meet, if fatal it must be,  
To one; spare him; and cast the Lot on me.  They retiree. Lynd. 
Ah, what a noble Conquest were this Heart!  
I am resolved I'll try my utmost Art:  
In gaining him, I gain that Fortune too  
Which he has Wedded, and which I but Woo.  
I'll try each secret passage to his mind;  
And Loves soft Bands about his Heartstrings wind.  
Not his vowed Constancy shall scape my snare;  
While he, without, resistance does prepare,  
I'll melt into him ere his Love's aware.  She makes a gesture of invitation to Almanzor who returns again. Lynd. 
You see, Sir, to how strange a remedy  
A persecuted Maid is forced to fly.  
Who, much distressed, yet scarce has confidence,  
To make your noble pity her defence.  Almanz. 
Beauty, like yours, can no protection need;  
Or, if it sues, is certain to succeed.  
To whate'er Service you ordain my hand,  
Name your Request, and call it your Command.  Lynd. 
You cannot, Sir, but know, that my ill Fate  
Has made me loved with all th' effects of Hate:  
One Lover would, by force, my person gain;  
Which one as guilty would by force detain.  
Rash Abdelmeleches Love I cannot prise;  
And fond Abdalla's passion I despise.  
As you are brave, so you are prudent too,  
Advise a wretched Woman what to do.  Almanz. 
Have courage, Fair one; put your trust in me;  
You shall at least from those you hate, be free.  
Resign your Castle to the King's Command;  
And leave your Love-concernments in my hand.  Lynd. 
The King, like them, is fierce, and faithless too:  
How can I trust him, who has injured you?  
Keep for yourself; (and you can grant no less)  
What you alone are worthy to possess,  
Enter, brave Sir; for, when you speak the word,  
These Gates will open of their own accord.  
The Genius of the place its Lord will meet:  
And bend its tow'ry forehead to your feet.  
That little Citadel, which now you see,  
Shall then, the head of Conquered Nations be:  
And every Turret, from your coming, rise  
The Mother of some great Metropolis.  Almanz. 
'Tis pity words which none but Gods should hear,  
Should lose their sweetness in a Soldiers Ear:  
I am not that Almanzor whom you praise:  
But your fair Mouth can fair Ideas raise:  
I am a wretch, to whom it is denied  
T' accept, with Honour, what I wish with Pride.  
And since I fight not for myself, must bring  
The fruits of all my Conquests to the King.  Lynd. 
Say rather to the Queen; to whose fair Name  
I know you vow the Trophies of your Fame.  
I hope she is as kind as she is fair:  
Kinder than unexperienced Virgins, are  
To their first Loves; (though she has loved before)  
And that first innocence is now no more:)  
But, in revenge, she gives you all her Heart;  
(For you are much too brave to take a part.)  
Though blinded by a Crown she did not see  
Almanzor greater than a King could be,  
I hope her Love repairs her ill made choice:  
Almanzor cannot be deluded, twice.  Almanz. 
No; not deluded; for none count their gains,  
Who, like Almanzor, frankly give their pains.  Lynd. 
Almanzor, do not cheat yourself, nor me;  
Your Love is not refined to that degree.  
For, since you have desires; and those not blessed,  
Your Loves uneasy, and at little rest.  Almanz. 
'Tis true; my own unhappiness I see:  
But who, alas, can my Physician be?  
Love, like a lazy Ague I endure,  
Which fears the Water; and abhors the Cure.  Lynd. 
'Tis a Consumption, which your life does waste:  
Still flattering you with hope till help be past.  
But, since of cure from her you now despair;  
You, like consumptive Men, should change your Air.  
Love somewhere else, 'tis a hard remedy;  
But yet you owe yourself so much, to try.  Almanz. 
My Love's now grown so much a part of me,  
That Life would, in the Cure, endangered be.  
At least it like a Limb cut off, would show;  
And better die than like a Cripple go.  Lynd. 
You must be brought like mad Men to their cure;  
And darkness first and next new Bonds endure:  
Do you dark absence to yourself ordain:  
And I, in Charity, will find the Chain.  Almanz. 
Love is that madness which all Lovers have;  
But yet 'tis sweet and pleasing so to Rave.  
'Tis an Enchantment where the reason's bound:  
But Paradise is in th' enchanted ground.  
A Palace void of Envy, Cares and Strife:  
Where gentle hours delude so much of Life.  
To take those Charms away; and set me free  
Is but to send me into misery.  
And Prudence of whose Cure so much you boast,  
Restores those Pains, which that sweet Folly lost.  Lynd. 
I would not, like Philosophers, remove,  
But show you a more pleasing shape of Love.  
You a sad, sullen, froward, Love did see;  
I'll show him kind, and full of gaiety.  
In short, Almanzor, it shall be my care  
To show you Love; for you but saw Despair.  Almanz. 
I in the shape of Love Despair did see:  
You, in his shape, would show Inconstancy.  Lynd. 
There's no such thing as Constancy you call:  
Faith ties not Hearts; 'tis Inclination all.  
Some Wit deformed or Beauty much decayed▪  
First, constancy in Love, a Virtue made.  
From Friendship they that Landmark did remove;  
And, falsely, placed it on the bounds of Love.  
Let th' effects of change be only tried:  
Court me, in jest; and call me Almahide.  
But this is only Council I impart;  
For I, perhaps, should not receive your heart.  Almanz, 
Fair though you are—  
As Summer mornings, and your Eyes more bright  
Than Stars that twinkle in a winter's night;  
Though you have Eloquence to warm, and move  
Cold age; and praying Hermit's into Love;  
Though Almahide, with scorn rewards my care;  
Yet; than to change, 'tis nobler to despair.  
My Love's my Soul; and that from Fate is free:  
'Tis that unchanged; and deathless part of me.  Lynd. 
The Fate of Constancy your Love pursue!  
Still to be faithful to what's false to you.  Turns from him, and goes off angrily. Almanz. 
Ye Gods, why are not Hearts first paired above;  
But some still interfere in others Love!  
ere each, for each, by certain marks are known,  
You mould 'em off in haste, and drop 'em down.  
And while we seek what carelessly you sort,  
You sit in State; and make our pains your sport.  Exeunt on both sides.   

ACT. IU.  

SCENE  Abenamar, and servants. Aben. 
HAst; and conduct the Prisoner to my sight.  Exit servant, and immediately enters with Selin bound. Aben. 
Did you, according, to my orders, write? to Selin.  
And have you summoned Ozmyn to appear?  Selin. 
I am not yet so much a slave to fear:  
Nor has your Son deserved so ill of me  
That, by his death or bonds, I would be free.  Aben. 
Against thy life thou dost the sentence give:  
Behold how short a time thou hast to live.  Selin. 
Make haste; and draw the Curtain while you may:  
You but shut out the twilight of my day:  
Beneath the burden of my age I bend;  
You, kindly ease me 'ere my Journey's end.  To them a servant, with Ozmyn; Ozmyn knelt. Aben. to Selin. 
It is enough: my promise makes you free:  
Resign your bonds; and take your liberty.  Ozmyn. 
Sir, you are just; and welome are these bands:  
'Tis all th' inheritance a son demands.  Selin. 
Your goodness, O my Ozmyn, is too great:  
I am not weary of my fetters yet:  
Already when you move me to resign:  
I feel 'em heavier on your feet than mine.  Another Soldier or Servant. Sold. 
A youth attends you in the outer room;  
Who seems in haste; and does from Ozmyn come.  Aben. 
Conduct him in:—  Ozm. 
Sent from Benzayda I fear to me.  To them Benzayda in the habit of a man. Benz. 
My Ozmyn here!  Ozmyn. 
— Benzaida! 'tis she!  
Go, youth; I have no business for thee here: to her.  
Go to th' Albayzin; and attend me there.  
I'll not be long away; I prithee go;  
By all our Love and friendship—  Ben. 
— Ozmyn, no.  
I did not take on me this bold disguise,  
For ends so low to cheat your watchman's eyes.  
When I attempted this; it was to do  
An Action, to be envied even by you:  
But you, alas, have been too diligent,  
And, what I purposed, fatally prevent!  
Those chains, which for my father I would bear,  
I take with less content, to find you here.  
Except your father will that mercy show,  
That I may wear 'em both for him and you.  Aben. 
I thank thee, fortune; thou hast, in one hour,  
Put all I could have asked thee in my power.  
My own lost wealth thou giv'st not only back,  
But driv'st upon my Coast my Pirates wrack.  Selin. 
With Ozmyns kindness I was grieved before;  
But yours, Benzaida, has undone me more.  Aben. to Sold. 
Go fetch new fetters, and the daughter bind  Ozm. 
Be just, at least, Sir though you are not kind.  
Benzayda, is not, as a Prisoner, brought;  
But comes to suffer for another's faued.  Aben. 
Then Ozmyn, mark; that justice which I do,  
I, as severely will exact from you.  
The father is not wholly dead in me:  
Or you may yet revive it, if it be.  
Like tapers new blown out, the fumes remain  
To catch the light; and bring it back again.  
— Benzaida gave you life, and set you free;  
For that I will restore her liberty.  Ozmyn. 
Sir, on my knees I thank you.  Aben. 
— Oxmyn hold  
One part of what I purpose is untold:  
Consider, then, it on your part remains,  
When I have broke, not to resume your chains.  
Like an Indulgent father, I have paid  
All debts, which you, my Prodigal, have made.  
Now you are clear, break off your fond design;  
Renounce Benzaida; and be wholly mine.  Ozmyn. 
Are these the terms? is this the liberty?  
Ah, Sir, how can you so inhuman be?  
My duty to my life I will prefer;  
But life and duty must give place to her.  Aben. 
Consider what you say; for, with one breath,  
You disobey my will; and give her death.  Ozmyn. 
Ah, cruel father, what do you propose!  
Must I, then, kill Benzaida, or must lose?  
I can do neither; in this wretched state  
The least that I can suffer is your hate:  
And yet, that's worse than death: Even while I sue,  
And choose your hatred, I could die for you.  
Break quickly, heart; or let my blood be spilt  
By my own hand, to save a father's guilt.  Benz. 
Hear me, my Lord, and take this wretched life,  
To free you from the fear of Ozmyns wife.  
I beg but what with ease may granted be;  
To spare your son; and kill your Enemy.  
Or, if my death's a grace too great to give;  
Let me, my Lord, without my Ozmyn live.  
Far from your sight, and Ozmin's let me go,  
And take from him a Care; from you a foe.  Ozmyn. 
How, my Benzaida! can you thus resign  
That love, which you have vowed so firmly mine?  
Can you leave me for life and liberty?  Ben. 
What I have done will show that I dare die.  
But I'll twice suffer death; and go away;  
Rather than make you wretched by my stay;  
By this my father's freedom will be won;  
And to your father I restore a Son.  Selin. 
Cease, cease, my children, your unhappy strife.  
Selin will not be ransomed by your life.  
Barbarian, thy old foe defies thy rage: to Aben.  
Turn from their Youth thy malice to my Age.  Ben. 
Forbear, dear father, for your Ozmyn's sake:  
Do not, such words to Ozmyn's father speak.  Ozm. 
Alas, 'tis counterfeited rage; he strives  
But to divert the danger from our lives.  
For, I can witness, Sir, and you might see  
How in your person he considered me.  
He still declined the Combat where you were;  
And you well know it was not out of fear.  Ben. 
Alas, my Lord, where can your vengeance fall:  
Your justice will not let it reach us all:  
Selin and Ozmin both would sufferers be;  
And punishment's a favour done to me.  
If we are foes: since you have power to kill  
'Tis generous in you not to have the will.  
But are we foes? look round, my Lord; and see;  
Point out that face which is your Enemy.  
Would you your hand in Selins blood imbrue?  
Kill him unarmed, who, armed, shunned killing you!  
Am I your foe? since you detest my line,  
That hated name of Zegry I resign:  
For you, Benzayda will herself disclaim:  
Call me your daughter, and forget my name.  Selin. 
This virtue would even Savages subdue;  
And shall it want the power to vanquish you?  Ozmyn. 
It has, it has: I read it in his eyes;  
'Tis now not anger; 'tis but shame denies.  
A shame of error; that great spirits find,  
Which keeps down virtue struggling in the mind.  Aben. 
Yes; I am vanquished! the fierce conflict's past:  
And shame itself is now o'ercome at last.  
'Twas long before my stubborn Mind was won;  
But, melting once, I on the sudden run,  
Nor can I hold my headlong kindness, more  
Than I could curb my cruel Rage before.  Runs to Benz. and embraces her. 
Benzayda, 'twas your Virtue vanquished me:  
That, could alone surmount my Cruelty.  Runs to Selin; and unbinds him. 
Forgive me, Selin, my neglect of you!  
But men, just waking, scarce know what they do.  Ozm. 
O Father!  Benz. 
— Father!  Aben. 
— Dare I own that name!  
Speak; speak it often, to remove my shame!  They all embrace him. 
O Selin; O my Children, let me go!  
I have more kindness than I yet can show.  
For my recovery, I must shun your sight:  
Eyes, used to darkness, cannot bear the light.  He runs in, they following him.  

SCENE The Albayzin.  Almanzor, Abdelmelech, Soldiers. Almanz. 
'Tis War again; and I am glad 'tis so;  
Success, shall now by force and courage go.  
Treaties are but the combats of the Brain,  
Where still the stronger loose, and weaker gain.  Abdelm. 
On this Assault, brave Sir, which we prepare,  
Depends the Sum and Fortune of the War.  
Encamped without the Fort the Spaniard lies;  
And may, in spite of us, send in supplies.  
Consider yet, ere we attack the place,  
What 'tis to storm it in an Army's face.  Almanz. 
The minds of Heroes their own measures are,  
They stand exempted from the rules of War.  
One Lose, one sally of the Hero's Soul,  
Does all the Military Art control.  
While timorous Wit goes round, or fords the shore;  
He shoots the Gulf; and is already o'er.  
And, when th' Enthusiastic fit is spent,  
Looks back amazed at what he underwent.  a Alarm within. Exeunt. Enter Almanzor and Abdelmelech with their Soldiers. Abdelm. 
They fly, they fly; take breath and charge again.  Almanz. 
Make good your entrance, and bring up more men  
I feared, brave Friend, my Aid had been too late,  Abdelm. 
You drew us from the jaws of certain Fate.  
At my approach—  
The Gate was open, and the Draw-bridge down;  
But, when they saw I stood, and came not on,  
They charged with fury on my little Band;  
Who, much o're-powred, could scarce the shock withstand.  Almanz. 
ere night we shall the whole Albayzin gain,  
But see the Spaniards march along the Plain,  
To its relief: you Abdelmelech, go  
And force the rest, while I repulse the Foe.  Exit Almanzor. Enter Abdalla, and some few Soldiers who seem fearful. Abdal. 
Turn, Cowards, turn; there is no hope in flight;  
You yet may live, if you but dare to fight.  
Come, you brave few, who only fear to fly:  
We're not enough to Conquer but to Die.  Abdelm. 
No, Prince; that mean advantage I refuse:  
'Tis in your power a nobler Fate to choose.  
Since we are Rivals, Honour does command,  
We should not die but by each others hand.  To his men. 
Retire; and if it prove my destiny  
To fall; I charge you let the Prince go free.  The Soldiers depart on both sides. Abdal. 
O, Abdelmelech, that I knew some way  
This debt of Honour which I owe, to pay.  
But Fate has left this only means for me,  
To die; and leave you Lyndaraxa free.  Abdelm. 
He who is vanquished and is slain, is blessed:  
The wretched Conqueror can ne'er have rest:  
But is reserved a harder fate to prove;  
(Bound in the Fetters of dissembled Love.)  Abdal. 
Now thou art base; and I deserve her more:  
Without complaint I will to death adore.  
Dar'st thou see faults: and yet dost Love pretend?  
I will, even Lyndaraxa's Crimes defend.  Abdelm. 
Maintain her cause, then, better than thy own,  
Than thy ill got, and worse defended Throne.  They fight, Abdalla falls. Abdelm. 
Now ask your life.  Abdal. 
— 'Tis gone; that busy thing  
The Soul, is packing up; and just on wing.  
Like parting Swallows, when they seek the Spring.  
Like them, at its appointed time, it goes;  
And flies to Countries more unknown than those.  Enter Lyndaraxa hastily, sees them, and is going out again. Abdelmelech stopping her. 
No; you shall stay; and see a Sacrifice;  
Not offered by my Sword but by your Eyes.  
From those he first Ambition's poison drew;  
And swelled to Empire for the love of you.  
Accursed fair!  
Thy Comet-blaze portends a Prince's fate;  
And suffering Subjects groan beneath thy weight.  Abdal. 
Cease Rival, cease!  
I would have forced you; but it wonot be:  
I beg you now, upbraid her not for me. to Lynd.  
You fairest, to my memory be kind:  
Lovers like me your sex will seldom find.  
When I usurped a Crown for love of you,  
ay, then, did more than dying now I do.  
I'm still the same as when my Love begun:  
And could I now this fate foresee or shun; dies.  
Would yet do all I have already done.  she puts her handkerchief to her eyes. Abdelm. 
Weep on; weep on; for it becomes you now:  
These tears you to that love may well allow.  
His unrepenting Soul, if it could move  
Upward, in Crimes, flew spotted with your love;  
And brought Contagion to the blessed above.  Lind. 
He's gone; and peace go with a constant mind:  
His love deserved I should have been more kind.  
But then your love and greater worth I knew:  
I was unjust to him, but just to you.  Abdelm. 
I was his Enemy and Rival too;  
Yet I some tears to his misfortunes owe:  
You owe him more; weep then; and join with me:  
So much is due even to Humanity.  Lynd. 
Weep for this wretch, whose memory I hate!  
Whose folly made us both unfortunate!  
Weep for this fool, who did my laughter move;  
This, whining, tedious, heavy lump of Love!  Abdelm. 
Had Fortune favoured him, and frowned on me,  
I then had been that heavy fool, not he:  
Just this had been my funeral Elegy.  
Thy arts and falsehood I before did know;  
But this last baseness was concealed till now.  
And 'twas no more than needful to be known;  
I could be cured by such an act alone.  
My love, half blasted, yet in time would shoot;  
But this last tempest rends it to the root.  Lyn. 
These little picques, which now your Anger move,  
Will vanish; and are only signs of love.  
You've been too fierce; and, at some other time,  
I should not with such ease forgive your Crime.  
But, in a day of public joy, like this,  
I pardon; and forget what ever's amiss.  Abdelm. 
These Arts have oft prevailed; but must no more:  
The spell is ended; and th' Enchantment' ore.  
You have at last destroyed, with much ado;  
That love, which none could have destroyed, but you.  
My love was blind to your deluding Art;  
But blind men feel, when stabbed so near the heart.  Lynd. 
I must confess there was some pity due:  
But I concealed it out of Love to you.  Abdelm. 
No, Lyndaraxa; 'tis at last too late:  
Our loves have mingled with too much of fate.  
I would; but cannot now myself deceive:  
O that you still could cheat, and I believe!  Lynd. 
Do not so light a quarrel long pursue:  
You grieve your Rival was less loved than you.  
'Tis hard, when men, of kindness, must complain!  Abdelm. 
I'm now awake, and cannot dream again!  Lynd. 
Yet hear—  Abdelm. 
— No more: nothing my heart can bend:  
That Queen you scorned, you shall this night, attend:  
Your life the King has pardoned for my sake;  
But, on your Pride, I some revenge must take.  
See now th' effects of what your Arts designed:  
Thank your inconstant, and ambitious Mind.  
'Tis just that she who to no Love is true,  
Should be forsaken, and contemned, like you.  Lynd. 
All Arts of injured Women I will try:  
First I will be revenged; and then I'll die.  
But like some falling Tower—  
Whose seeming firmness does the sight beguile,  
So hold I up my nodding head awhile;  
Till they come under, and reserve my fall;  
That with my ruins I may reach 'em all.  Abdelm. 
Conduct her hence.—  Exit Lyndaraxa guarded. Enter a Soldier. Sold. 
Almanzor is victorious without fight;  
The Foes retreated when he came in sight.  
Under the Walls, this night, his men are drawn;  
And mean to seek the Spaniard with the dawn.  Abdel. 
The Sun's declined:  
Command the Watch be set without delay;  
And in the Fort let bold Benducar stay:  
I'll haste to Court, where Solitude I'll fly; aside.  
And heard, like wounded Deer, in company.  
But oh, how hard is passion to remove,  
When I must shun myself to escape from Love!  Exit.  

SCENE. The Alhambra, or a Gallery.  Zulema, Hamet. Hamet. 
I thought your passion for the Queen was dead:  
Or that your love had, with your hopes, been fled.  Zulema. 
'Twas like a fire within a furnace penned:  
I smothered it, and kept it long from vent.  
But (fed with looks; and blown with sighs, so fast)  
It broke a passage through my lips, at last.  Ham. 
Where found you confidence your suit to move?  
Our broken fortunes are not fit to love.  
Well; you declared your love:: what followed then?  Zulema. 
She looked as Judges do on guilty men:  
When big with fate they triumph in their dooms,  
And smile before the deadly sentence comes.  
Silent I stood as I were thunder— stroke;  
Condemned and executed with a look.  Hamet. 
You must, with haste, some remedy prepare:  
Now you are in, you must break through the snare.  Zulema. 
She said she would my folly yet conceal,  
But vowed my next attempt she would reveal.  Hamet. 
'Tis dark; and, in this lonely Gallery,  
(Remote from noise, and shunning every eye)  
One hour each Evening she in private mourns,  
And prays, and to the Cercle then returns.  
Now, if you dare, attempt her passing by.—  Zulema. 
These lighted tapers show the time is nigh.  
Perhaps my Courtship will not be in vain.  
At least few women will of force complain.  At the other end of the Gallery, Enter Almanzor and Esperanza. Hamet. 
Almanzor and with him—  
The favourite slave of the Sultana Queen:  Zul. 
ere they approach, let us retire unseen.  
And watch our time when they return again  
Then force shall give, if favour does deny;  
And, that once done, we'll to the Spaniards fly.  Exeunt. Almanz. 
Now stand; th' Apartment of the Queen is near,  
And, from this place your voice will reach her ear.  Esperanza goes out. 

Song, In two Parts.  

Herald HOw unhappy a Lover am I  
While I sigh for my Phillis in vain;  
All my hopes of Delight  
Are another man's Right,  
Who is happy while I am in pain!   

2.  
She. Since her Honour allows no Relief,  
But to pity the pains which you bear,  
'Tis the best of your Fate,  
(In a hopeless Estate,)  
To give o'er, and betimes to despair.   

3.  
Herald I have tried the false Medicine in vain;  
For I wish what I hope not to win:  
From without, my desire  
Has no Food to its Fire,  
But it burns and consumes me within.   

4.  
She. Yet at lest 'tis a pleasure to know  
That you are not unhappy alone:  
For the Nymph you adore  
Is as wretched and more,  
And accounts all your suff'ring's her own.   

5.  
Herald O ye Gods, let me suffer for both;  
At the feet of my Phillis I'll lie:  
I'll resign up my Breath,  
And take pleasure in Death,  
To be pitied by her when I die.   

6.  
She. What her Honour denied you in Life  
In her Death she will give to your Love.  
Such a Flame as is true  
After Fate will renew,  
For the Souls to meet closer above.    Enter Esperanza again after the Song. Almanz. 
Accept this Diamond, till I can present  
Something more worthy my acknowledgement.  
And now, farewell; I will attend, alone,  
Her coming forth; and make my sufferings known.  Exit Esperanza. Solus. 
A hollow wind comes whistling through that door;  
And a cold shivering seizes me all o'er.  
My Teeth, too, chatter, with a sudden fright:  
These are the raptures of too fierce delight!  
The combat of the Tyrants, Hope and Fear;  
Which Hearts, for want of Field-room, cannot bear.  
I grow impatient, this, or that's the room:  
I'll meet her; now, methinks, I hear her come.  He goes to the door; the Ghost of his Mother meets him, he starts back: the Ghost stands in the door. Almanz. 
Well mayst thou make thy boast, what e'er thou art;  
Thou art the first e'er made Almanzor start.  
My Legs—  
Shall bear me to thee in their own despite:  
I'll rush into the Covert of thy Night,  
And pull thee backward by thy shroud, to light.  
Or else I'll squeeze thee, like a Bladder, there:  
And make thee groan thyself away to Air.  The Ghost retires. 
So; art thou gone! thou canst no Conquest boast:  
I thought what was the courage of a Ghost.—  
— The grudging of my Argue yet remains:  
My blood, like Ysicles, hangs in my veins,  
And does not drop: be master of that door,  
We two, will not disturb each other more.  
jerr d a little, but extremes may join;  
That door was Hell's; but this is heavens and mine.  Goes to the other door and is met again by the Ghost. 
Again! by Heaven I do conjure thee, speak.  
What art thou, Spirit; and what dost thou seek?  The Ghost comes on, softly, after the Conjuration: and Almanzor retires to the middle of the Stage. Ghost! 
I am the Ghost of her who gave thee birth:  
The Airy shadow of her mouldering Earth.  
Love of thy Father me through Seas did guide;  
On Sea's I bore thee, and on Sea's I died.  
I died; and for my Winding-sheet, a Wave  
I had; and all the Ocean for my Grave.  
But, when my soul to bliss did upward move,  
I wandered round the Crystal walls above;  
But found th' eternal fence so steepy high,  
That, when I mounted to the middle Sky,  
I flagged, and fluttered down; and could not fly.  
Then, from the Battlements of th' Heavenly Tower,  
A Watchman Angel bid me wait this hour;  
And told me I had yet a task assigned,  
To warn that little pledge I left behind;  
And to divert him, ere it were too late,  
From Crimes unknown; and errors of his Fate.  Almanzor bowing. 
Speak, Holy Shade; thou Parent form, speak on:  
Instruct thy mortal Elemented Son;  
(For here I wander to myself unknown.)  
But oh, thou better part of Heavenly Air,  
Teach me, kind spirit, (since I am still thy care,)  
My Parent's names!  
If I have yet a Father, let me know  
To whose old age my humble youth must bow;  
And pay its duty, if he mortal be,  
Or Adoration, if a Mind like thee.  Ghost. 
Then, what I may, I'll tell.—  
From ancient Blood thy Father's Lineage springs,  
Thy Mothers thou deriv'st from stems of Kings.  
A Christian born, and born again, that day,  
When sacred Water washed thy sins away.  
Yet bred in errors thou dost misimploy  
That strength Heaven gave thee, and its flock destroy.  Almanz. 
By Reason, Man a Godhead may discern:  
But, how he would be worshipped, cannot learn.  Ghost. 
Heaven does not now thy Ignorance reprove;  
But warns thee from known Crimes of lawless Love.  
That Crime thou knowst, and knowing, dost not shun,  
Shall an unknown, and greater Crime pull on:  
But, if thus warned, thou leav'st this cursed place,  
Then shalt thou know the Author of thy Race.  
Once more I'll see thee: when my charge is done,  
Far hence, upon the Mountains of the Moon  
Is my abode, where Heaven and Nature smile;  
And strew with Flowers the secret bed of Nile.  
Blessed Souls are there refined, and made more bright,  
And, in the shades of Heaven, prepared for light.  Exit Ghost. Almanz. 
Oh Heaven, how dark a Riddle's thy Decree,  
Which bounds our Wills, yet seems to leave 'em free!  
Since thy foreknowledge cannot be in vain,  
Our choice must be what thou didst first ordain:  
Thus, like a Captive in an Isle confined,  
Man walks at large, a Prisoner of the Mind:  
will all his Crimes, while Heaven th' Indictment draws;  
And, pleading guilty, justifies the Laws.—  
Let Fate be Fate; the Lover and the Brave  
Are ranked, at least, above the vulgar Slave:  
Love makes me willing to my death to run;  
And courage scorns the death it cannot shun.  Enter Almahide with a Taper. Almah. 
My Light will sure discover those who talk;—  
Who dares to interrupt my private Walk?  Almanz. 
He who dares love; and for that love must die,  
And, knowing this, dares yet love on, an I  Almah. 
That love which you can hope, and I can pay  
May be received and given in open day;  
My praise and my esteem you had before:  
And you have bound you self to ask no more.  Almanz. 
Yes, I have bound myself, but will you take  
The forfeit of that bond which force did make?  Almah. 
You know you are from recompense debarred,  
But purest love can live without reward.  Almanz. 
Pure love had need be to itself a feast;  
For, like pure Elements, 'twill nourish least.  Almah. 
It therefore yields the only pure content;  
For it, like Angels, needs no Nourishment.  
To eat and drink can no perfection be;  
All Appetite implies Necessity:  Almanz. 
'Twere well, if I could like a spirit live:  
But do not Angels food to Mortals give.—  
What if some Daemon should my death foreshow,  
Or bid me change, and to the Christians go,  
Will you not think I merit some reward,  
When I my love above my life regard?  Almah. 
In such a case your change must be allowed;  
I would, myself, dispense with what you vowed.  Almanz. 
Were I to die that hour when I possess;  
This minute should begin my happiness.  Almah. 
The thoughts of death your passion would remove.  
Death is a cold encouragement to love!  Alman. 
No; from my joys I to my death would run;  
And think the business of my life well done.  
But I should walk a discontented Ghost,  
If flesh and blood were to no purpose lost.  Almah. 
You love me not, Almanzor; if you did,  
You would not ask what honour must forbid.  Alman. 
And what is Honour, but a Love well hid?  Almah. 
Yes; 'tis the Conscience of an Act well done:  
Which gives us power our own desires to shun.  
The strong, and secret curb of headlong Will;  
The self reward of good; and shame of ill.  Almanz. 
These, Madam, are the Maxims of the Day;  
When Honour's present, and when love's away.  
The duty of poor Honour were too hard,  
In Arms all day, at night to mount the Guard.  
Let him in pity, now, to rest retire;  
Let these soft hours be watched by warm desire.  Almah. 
Guards, who all day on painful duty keep,  
In dangers are not privileged to sleep.  Alman. 
And with what dangers are you threatened here?  
Am I alas, a foe for you to fear?  
See, Madam, at your feet this Enemy: knelt.  
Without your pity and your Love I die.  Almah. 
Rise, rise: and do not empty hopes pursue:  
Yet think, that I deny myself not you.  Alman. 
A happiness so nigh, I cannot bear:  
My loves too fierce; and you too killing fair.  
I grow enraged to see such Excellence:  
If words so much disordered, give offence,  
My love's too full of zeal to think of sense.  
Be you like me; dull Reason hence remove;  
And tedious forms; and give a loose to love.  
Love eagerly; let us be gods to night;  
And do not, with half yielding, dash delight.  Almah. 
Thou strong Seducer, Opportunity!  
Of womankind, half are undone by thee!  
Though I resolve I will not be misled,  
I wish I had not heard what you had said!  
I cannot be so wicked to comply;  
And, yet, am most unhappy to deny!  
Away:  Alman. 
— I will not move me from this place:  
I can take no denial from that face!  Almah. 
If I could yield; (but think not that I will:)  
You and myself, I in revenge, should kill.  
For I should hate us both, when it were done:  
And would not to the shame of life be won.  Alman. 
Live but to night; and trust to morrows mind:  
‛ Ere that can come, there's a whole life behind.  
Methinks already crowned with joys, I lie;  
Speechless and breathless in an Ecstasy.  
Not absent in one thought: I am all there:  
Still closely; yet wishing still to be more near.  Almah. 
Deny your own desires: for it will be  
Too little now to be denied by me.  
Will he who does all great, all noble seem,  
Be lost and forfeit to his own Esteem?  
Will he, who may with Heroes claim a place,  
Belie that fame, and to himself be base?  
Think how August and godlike you did look  
When my defence, unbribed you undertook.  
But, when an Act so brave you disavow,  
How little, and how mercenary now!  Almanz. 
Are, then, my Services no higher prized?  
And can I fall so low to be despised?  Almah. 
Yes; for whatever may be bought, is low,  
And you yourself, who sell yourself, are so.  
Remember the great Act you did this day:  
How did your Love to Virtue then give way?  
When you gave freedom to my Captive Lord;  
That Rival, who possessed what you adored.  
Of such a deed what price can there be made?  
Think well: is that an Action to be paid?  
It was a Miracle of Virtue shown:  
And wonders are with wonder paid alone.  
And would you all that secret joy of mind  
Which great Souls only in great actions find,  
All that, for one tumultuous Minute lose?  Alman. 
I would that minute before ages choose.  
Praise is the pay of Heaven for doing good;  
But Loves the best return for flesh and blood.  Almah. 
You've moved my heart, so much, I can deny  
No more; but know, Almanzor, I can die.  
Thus far, my virtue yields; if I have shown  
More Love, than what I ought, let this atone.  Going to stab herself. Almanz. 
Hold, hold!  
Such fatal proofs of love you shall not give:  
Deny me; hate me; (both are just) but live!  
Your Virtue I will ne'er disturb again:  
Nor dare to ask, for fear I should obtain.  Almah. 
'Tis generous to have conquered your desire;  
You mount above your wish; and lose it higher.  
There's pride in virtue; and a kindly heat:  
Not feverish, like your love; but full as great.  
Farewell; and may our loves hereafter, be,  
But Image-like, to heighten piety.  Almanz. 
'Tis time I should be gone!  
Alas I am but half converted yet:  
All I resolve, I with one look, forget.  
And, like a Lion whom no Arts can tame;  
Shall tear, even those, who would my rage reclaim.  Exeunt severally. Zulema and Hamet watch Almanzor: and when he is gone, go in after the Queen. Enter Abdelmelech and Lyndaraxa. Lynd. 
It is enough; you've brought me to this place:  
Here stop: and urge no further, my disgrace.  
Kill me: in death your mercy will be seen,  
But make me not a Captive to the Queen:  Abdelm. 
'Tis therefore I this punishment provide:  
This only can revenge me on your pride.  
Prepare to suffer what you eat in vain.  
And know, you now are to obey, not reign.  Enter Almahide; schrieking: her hair loose; she runs over the stage. Almah. 
Help; help: oh heaven, some help.  Enter Zulema and Hamet. Zul. 
— Make haste before,  
And intercept her passage to the door:  Abdelm. 
Villains, what Act are you attempting here!  Almah. 
I thank thee, heaven; some succour does appear.  As Abdelmelech is going to help the Queen: Lyndaraxa pulls out his Sword: and holds it. Abdelm. 
With what ill fate, my good design is cursed!  Zul. 
We have no time to think: dispatch him first.  Abdelm. 
Oh for a sword!  They make at Abdemelech: he goes off at one door, while the Queen escapes at the other. Zul. 
Ruined!  Hamet. 
— Undone!  Lynd. 
— And which is worst of all  
He escaped:  Zul. 
— I hear 'em loudly call.  Lynd. 
Your fear will lose you: call as loud as they.  
I have not time to teach you what to say:  
The Court, will in a moment, all be here.  
But second what I say, and do not fear.  
Call help; run that way; leave the rest to me.  Zulema and Hamet retire, and within cry help. Enter at several doors, the King, Abenamar, Selin, Ozmyn, Almanzor, with guards attending Boabdelin. Boab. 
What can the cause of all this tumult be?  
And what the meaning of that naked sword?  Lynd. 
I'll tell, when fear will so much breath afford.  
The Queen and Abdelmelech.— 'Twill not out—  
Even I, who saw it, of the truth yet doubt,  
It seems so strange.  Almanz. 
— Did she not name the Queen!  
Haste; speak:  Lynd. 
— How dare I speak what I have seen!  
With Hamet, and with Zulema, I went  
To pay both theirs, and my acknowledgement  
To Almahide; and by her Mouth implore  
Your Clemency, our Fortunes to restore.  
We chose this hour, which we believed most free,  
When she retired from noise and company.  
The Antichamber past, we gently knocked,  
(Unheard it seems) but found the Lodgings locked.  
In duteous silence while we waited there,  
We, first a noise, and then long whispers hear:  
Yet thought it was the Queen at Prayers alone,  
Till she distinctly said,— If this were known  
My Love, what shame, what danger would ensue!  
Yet I (and sighed) could venture more for you!  Boab. 
O Heaven, what do I hear, (Almanz.) Let her go on.  Lynd. 
And how, (than murmured in a bigger tone,  
Another voice) and how should it be known?  
This hour is from your Court Attendants, free:  
The King suspects Almanzor; but not me.  Zulema, at the door. 
I find her drift: Hamet be Confident;  
Second her words; and fear not the event.  Zulema and Hamet Enter. The King embraces them. Boab. 
Welcome, my only Friends; Behold in me  
O Kings, behold th' effects of Clemency!  
See here the gratitude of pardoned foes!  
That life I gave 'em, they for me expose!  Hamet. 
Though Abdelmelech was our Friend before,  
When Duty called us he was so no more.  Almanz. 
Damn your delay, you Torturers proceed,  
I will not hear one word, but Almahide.  Boab. 
When you, within, the Traitor's voice did hear,  
What did you, then?  Zul. 
— I durst not trust my Ear:  
But, peeping through the Keyhole, I espied  
The Queen; and Abdelmelech by her side:  
She on the Couch, he on her bosom lay,  
Her Hand, about his Neck, his Head did stay,  
And, from his Forehead wiped the drops away.  Boab. 
Go on, go on my friends, to clear my doubt  
I hope I shall have life to hear you out.  Zul. 
What had been, Sir, you may suspect too well:  
What followed, Modesty forbids to tell:  
Seeing, what we had thought beyond belief,  
Our hearts so swelled with anger and with grief,  
That, by plain force, we strove the door to break:  
He, fearful, and with guilt, or Love, grown weak,  
Just as we entered, scaped the other way:  
Nor did th' amazed Queen behind him stay:  Lynd. 
His sword, in so much haste he could not mind:  
But left this witness of his Crime behind.  Boab. 
O proud, ingrateful, faithless, womankind!  
How changed, and what a Monster am I made!  
My Love, my Honour, ruined and betrayed!  Almanz. 
Your Love and Honour! mine are ruined worse:  
Furies and Hell what right have you to curse!  
Dull, Husband as you are,—  
What can your Love, or what your Honour be!  
I am her Lover, and she's false to me.  Boab. 
Go, when the Authors of my shame are found,  
Let 'em be taken instantly, and bound:  
They shall be punished as our Laws require:  
'Tis just, that Flames should be condemned to fire.  
This, with the dawn of morning shall be done.  Aben. 
You haste too much her Execution.  
Her Condemnation ought to be deferred:  
With justice, none can be condemned unheard.  Boab. 
A formal Process, tedious is, and long:  
Besides, the evidence is full and strong.  Lynd. 
The Law demands two witnesses; and she  
Is cast; (for which Heaven knows I grieve) by three.  Ozm. 
Hold, Sir; since you so far insist on Law;  
We can, from thence, one just advantage draw:  
That Law, which dooms Adultresses to die,  
Gives Champions, too, to slandered Chastity.  Almanz. 
And how dare you, who from my Bounty live,  
Entrench upon my Love's Prerogative.  
Your courage in your own concernments try;  
Brothers are things remote while I am by.  Ozm. 
I knew not you thus far her cause would own;  
And must not suffer you to fight alone:  
Let two to two in equal combat join;  
You vindicate her Person, I her Line.  Lynd. 
Of all Mankind Almanzor has least right  
In her defence, who wronged his Love, to fight.  Almanz. 
'Tis false; she is not ill, nor can she be;  
She must be Chaste, because she's loved by me.  Zul. 
Dare you, what Sense and Reason prove, deny?  Almanz. 
When she's in question, Sense and Reason lie.  Zul. 
For Truth, and for my injured Sovereign,  
What I have said, I will to death maintain.  Ozm. 
So foul a falsehood, who e'er justifies  
Is basely born; and, like a Villain, lies.  
In witness of that Truth, be this my Gage.  Takes a Ring from his finger. Hamet. 
I take it; and despise a Traitor's Rage.  Boab. 
The Combat's yours; a Guard the Lists surround;  
Then raise a Scaffold in th' encompassed ground:  
And, by it, piles of Wood; in whose just fire,  
Her Champion's slain, th' Adultress shall expire.  Aben. 
We ask no favour, but what Arms will yield:  Boab. 
Choose then two equal Judges of the Field,  
Next morning shall decide the doubtful strife;  
Condemn th' unchaste, or quit the virtuous Wife.  Almanz. 
But I am both ways, cursed.—  
For Almahide must die, if I am slain;  
Or, for my Rival, I the Conquest gain.  Exeunt.   

ACT V.  Almanzor Solus. 
I Have outfaced myself: and justified  
What I knew false to all the World, beside,  
She was as faithless as her Sex could be:  
And now I am alone, she's so to me.  
She's fallen! and now where shall we virtue find;  
She was the last that stood of Womankind:  
Could she so holily my flames remove;  
And fall that hour to Abdelmeleches Love?  
Yet her protection I must undertake;  
Not now for Love; but for my Honour's sake.  
That moved me first, and must oblige me still,  
My cause is good, however hers be ill;  
I'll leave her, when she's freed; and let it be  
Her punishment, she could be false to me.  To him, Abdelmelech, guarded. Abdelm. 
Heaven is not Heaven; nor are there Deities.  
There is some new Rebellion in the Skies.  
All that was Good and Holy, is dethroned,  
And Lust, and Rapine are for justice owned.  Almanz. 
'Tis true; what justice in that Heaven can be  
Which thus affronts me with the sight of thee!  
Why must I be from just Revenge debarred!  
Chains are thy Arms, and Prisons are thy Guard:  
The death thou diest may to a Husband be  
A satisfaction; but 'tis none to me.  
My Love would justice to itself afford;  
But now thou creepest to Death, below my Sword.  Abdelm. 
This threatening would show better, were I free,  Almanz. 
No; were't thou freed, I would not threaten thee.  
This arm should then.— But now it is too late!—  
I could redeem thee to a nobler Fate.  
As some huge Rock  
Rend from its Quarry, does the Waves divide,  
So I,—  
W'ould sowze upon thy guards, and dash 'em wide:  
Then, to my rage left naked and alone,  
Thy too much freedom thou shouldst soon bemoan:  
Dared, like a Lark, that on the open plain  
Pursued and cuffd, seeks shelter now in vain:  
So on the ground wouldst thou expecting lie,  
Not daring to afford me victory.  
But, yet thy fate's not ripe: it is decreed  
Before thou diest that Almahide be freed.  
My honour first her danger shall remove,  
And then, revenge on thee my injured love.  Exeunt severally. The Scene changes to the Vivarambla; and appears filled with Spectators: A scaffold hung with black, etc. Enter the Queen, guarded, with Esperanza. Almah. 
See how the gazing people crowd the place:  
All gaping to be filled with my disgrace.  A shout within. 
That shout, like the hoarse peals of Vultures rings,  
When, over fight fields, they beat their wings.  
Let never woman trust in Innocence.  
Or think her Chastity it's own defence;  
Mine has betrayed me to this public shame:  
And virtue, which I served, is but a name.  Esper. 
Leave then that shadow, and for succour fly  
To him, we serve, the Christians Deity.  
virtue's no god, nor has she power divine:  
But he protects it who did first enjoin.  
Trust, then, in him, and from his grace, implore  
Faith to believe what rightly we adore.  Almah. 
Thou Power unknown, if I have erred forgive:  
My infancy was taught what I believe.  
But if thy Christians truly worship thee,  
Let me thy godhead in thy succour see:  
So shall thy Justice in my safety shine,  
And all my days, which thou shalt add, be thine.  Enter the King, Abenamar, Lyndaraxa, Benzayda: then Abdelmelech guarded. And after him, Selin, and Alabez, as judges of the field. Boab. 
You Judges of the field, first take your place:  
The accusers and accused bring face to face.  
Set guards, and let the Lists be opened wide,  
And may just Heaven assist the juster side.  Almah. 
What not one tender look, one passing word;  
Farewell, my much unkind, but still loved Lord!  
Your Throne was for my humble fate too high;  
And therefore Heaven thinks fit that I should die.  
My story be forgot when I am dead;  
Lest it should fright some other from your bed:  
And, to forget me, may you soon adore  
Some happier maid (yet none could love you more.)  
But may you never think me innocent;  
Lest it should cause you trouble to repent.  Boabd. 
'Tis pity so much beauty should not live; aside.  
Yet, I too much am injured to forgive. goes to his seat.  Trumpets: Then enter two moor bearing two naked swords before the Accusers Zulema and Hamet, who follow them. The judge's seat themselves: the Queen, and Abdelmelech are led to the Scaffold. Alabez. 
Say for what end you thus in arms appear?  
What are your names, and what demand you here?  Zulema. 
The Zegry's ancient Race our Lineage claims;  
And Zulema and Hamet are our names.  
Like Loyal Subjects in these lists we stand,  
And Justice in our King's behalf demand.  Hamet. 
For whom, in witness of what both have seen,  
Bound by our duty, we appeach the Queen  
And Abdelmelech, of adultery.  Zul. 
Which, like true Knights we will maintain, or die.  Alabez. 
Swear on the Alcoran your cause is right;  
And Mahomet so prosper you in fight.  They touch their foreheads with the Alcoran, and bow. Trumpets on the other side of the Stage: two Moor as before, with bare swords before Almanzor and Ozmyn. Selin. 
Say for what end you thus in arms appear:  
What are your names, and what demand you here?  Alman. 
Ozmyn is his, Almanzor is my name;  
We come as Champions of the Queen's fair fame:  Ozmyn. 
To prove these Zegries, like false Trators, lie;  
Which, like true Knights, we will maintain, or die.  Selin. to Almahide. 
Madam, do you for Champions take these two;  
By their success to live or die;  Almah. 
— I do.  Selin. 
Swear on the Alcoran your Cause is right;  
And Mahomet so prosper you in fight.  They kiss the Alcoran. Ozmyn and Benzayda embrace, and take leave in dumb show: while Lyndaraxa speaks to her Brothers. Lind. 
If you overcome, let neither of 'em live:  
But use with care the advantages I give  
One of their swords in sight shall useless be;  
The Bearer of it is suborned by me.  she and Benzaida retire. Alabez. 
Now, Principals and Seconds, all advance  
And each of you assist his fellows chance.  Selin. 
The wind and Sun we equally divide;  
So, let th' event of Arms the truth decide.  
The chances of the fight, and every wound,  
The trumpets, on the Victor's part, resound.  The Trumpets sound; Almanzor and Zulema meet and fight: Ozmyn and Hamet: after some passes, the sword of Ozmyn breaks; he retires defending himself, and is wounded: the Zegry's trumpets sound their advantage: Almanzor, in the mean time, drives Zulema to the farther end of the stage; till, hearing the trumpets of the adverse party, he looks back and sees Ozmyns misfortune: he makes at Zulema just as Ozmyn falls, in retiring, and Hamet is thrusting at him. Ham. to Ozmyn thrusting. 
Our difference now shall soon determined be:  Alman. 
Hold, Traitor, and defend thyself from me.  Hamet leaves Ozmyn (who cannot rise,) and both he and Zulema fall on Almanzor, and press him: he retires and Hamet, advancing first, is run through the body and falls. The Queen's trumpets sound. Almanzor pursues Zulema. Lind. 
I must make haste some remedy to find:—  
Treason, Almanzor, treason; look behind.  Almanzor looks behind him to see who calls, and Zulema takes the advantage and wounds him; the Zegry s trumpet's sound: Almanzor turns upon Zulema and wounds him: he falls The Queen's trumpets sound. Alman. 
Now triumph in thy sister's treachery. stabbing him.  Zul. 
Hold, hold; I have enough to make me die,  
But, that I may in peace resign my breath,  
I must confess my crime before my death.  
Mine is the guilt; the Queen is innocent;  
I loved her; and, to compass my intent,  
Used force, which Abdelmelech did prevent.  
The lie my Sister forged: But, oh my fate  
Comes on too soon, and I repent too late.  
Fair Queen, forgive; and let my penitence  
Expiate some part of.— dies  Almah. 
— Even thy whole offence!  Almanzor to the judges. 
If aught remains in the Sultana's cause,  
I here am ready to fulfil the Laws.  Selin. 
The Law is fully satisfied; and we  
Pronounce the Queen and Abdelmelech free.  Abdelm. 
Heaven thou art just!  The judges rise from their seats, and go before Almanzor, to the Queen's Scaffold: he unbinds the Queen and Abdelmelech; they all go off, the people shouting, and the Trumpets sounding the while. Boab. 
Before we pay our thanks, or show our joy;  
Let us our needful Charity employ.  
Some skilful Surgeon speedily be found,  
T' apply fit Remedies to Ozmyn's wound.  Benzayda running to Ozmyn 
That be my charge; my Linen I will tear:  
Wash it with Tears, and bind it with my Hair.  Ozm. 
With how much pleasure I my pains endure!  
And bless the wound which causes such a cure.  Exit Ozmyn, led by Benzayda and Abenamar. Boab. 
Some, from the place of Combat bear the slain:  
Next Lyndaraxa's death I should ordain:  
But let her who this mischief did contrive,  
For ever banished from Granada live.  Lynd. 
Thou shouldst have punished more, or not at all:  
By her thou hast not ruined, thou shalt fall. aside.  
The Zegry's shall revenge their branded Line:  
Betray their Gate, and with the Christians join.  Exit Lynd. with Alabez. the Bodies of her Brothers are born after her. Almanzor, Almahide, Esperanza re-enter to the King. Almah. 
The thanks thus paid, which first to Heaven were due,  
My next, Almanzor, let me pay to you.  
Somewhat there is, of more concernment, too,  
Which 'tis not fit you should, in public, know.  
First let your wounds be dressed with speedy care;  
And than you shall th' important Secret share.  Almanz. 
When e'er you speak,  
Were my wounds mortal, they should still bleed on;  
And I would listen till my life were gone:  
My Soul, should, even for your last accent, stay;  
And then shoot out, and with such speed obey;  
It should not bait at Heaven to stop its way.  Exit Almanzor. Boab. 
'Tis true, Almanzor did her Honour save; aside  
But yet what private business can they have!  
Such freedom, virtue will not sure, allow;  
I cannot clear my heart; but must my brow:  He approaches Almahide. 
Welcome again my Virtuous, Loyal, Wife;  
Welcome, to Love, to Honour, and to Life.—  Goes to salute her, she starts back. 
You seem—  
As if you from a loathed embrace did go!  Almah. 
Then briefly I will speak, (since you must know  
What to the World my future Acts will show:)  
But, hear me first, and then my reasons weigh:  
'Tis known how Duty led me to obey  
My Father's choice; and how I since did live,  
You, Sir, can best your testimony give.  
How to your aid I have Almanzor brought,  
When by rebellious Crowds your life was sought;  
Then, how I bore your causeless Jealousy,  
(For I must speak;) and after set you free,  
When you were Prisoner by the chance of war;  
These, sure are proofs of Love.—  Boab 
— I grant they are.  Almah 
And cou d you, then, O cruelly unkind,  
So ill reward such tenderness of mind!  
Could you, denying what our Laws afford  
The meanest subject, on a Traitor's word,  
Unheard, condemn, and suffer me to go  
To death, and yet no common pity show!  Boab. 
Love filled my heart even to the brim before:  
And then, with too much jealousy, boiled o'er.  Almah. 
Be't Love or Jealousy, 'tis such a Crime,  
That I'm forewarned to trust a second time.  
Know then, my Prayers to Heaven, shall never cease  
To crown your Arms in War; your Wars with Peace:  
But, from this day, I will not know your Bed.  
Though Almahide still lives, your wife is dead:  
And, with her, dies a Love so pure and true,  
It could be killed by nothing but by you.  Exit Almahide. Boab. 
Yes, you will spend your life, in Prayers for me;  
And yet this hour my hated Rival see.  
She might a Husband's Jealousy forgive;  
But she will only for Almanzor live.  
It is resolved, I will, myself, provide  
That vengeance, which my useless Laws denied:  
And, by Almanzor's death, at once, remove  
The Rival of my Empire, and my Love.  Exit Boabdelin. Enter Almahide, led by Almanzor; and followed by Esperanza; she speaks entering. Almah. 
How much, Almanzor, to your aid I owe,  
Unable to repay, I blush to know.  
Yet, forced by need, ere I can clear that score,  
I, like ill debtors, come to borrow more.  Almanz. 
Your new Commands I on my knees attend:  
I was created for no other end.  
Born to be yours, I do by Nature, serve,  
And, like the labouring Beast, no thanks deserve.  Almah. 
Yet first your Virtue to your succour call,  
For, in this hard Command, you'll need it all.  Almanz. 
I stand prepared; and whatsoever it be,  
Nothing is hard to him who loves like me.  Almah. 
Then know, I from your Love must yet implore  
One proof:— that you would never see me more.  Almanzor starting back. 
I must confess,  
For this last stroke I did no Guard provide;  
I could suspect no Foe was near that side:  
From Winds and thickening Clouds we Thunder fear:  
None dread it from that quarter which is clear.  
And I would fain believe, 'tis but your Art  
To show  
You knew where deepest you could wound my Heart.  Almah. 
So much respect is to your passion due,  
That sure I could not practise Arts on you.  
But, that you may not doubt what I have said,  
This hour I have renounced my Husband's Bed,  
Judge then how much my Fame would injured be,  
If, leaving him, I should a Lover see!  Almanz. 
If his unkindness have deserved that Curse,  
Must I for loving well be punished worse?  Almah. 
Neither your Love nor Merits I compare;  
But my unspotted Name must be my care.  Almanz. 
I have this day established its renown.  Almah 
Would you so soon, what you have raised, throw down?  Almanz. 
But, Madam, Is not yours a greater Gild  
To ruin him who has that Fabric built?  Almah. 
No Lover should his Mistress Prayers withstand:  
Yet you contemn my absolute Command.  Almanz. 
'Tis not contempt,  
When your Command is issued out too late:  
'Tis past my power; and all beyond is fate.  
I scarce could leave you when to Exile sent,  
Much less when now recalled from banishment:  
For if that heat your glances cast, were strong;  
Your Eyes like Glasses, Fire, when held so long.  Almah. 
Then, since you needs will all my weakness know,  
I love you; and so well, that you must go:  
I am so much obliged; and have withal,  
A Heart so boundless and so prodigal,  
I dare not trust myself or you, to stay,  
But, like frank gamesters, must forswear the play.  Almanz. 
Fate thou art kind to strike so hard a blow;  
I am quite stuned; and past all feeling now.  
Yet— can you tell me you have power and will  
To save my life, and, at that instant, kill!  Alm. 
This, had you stayed, you never must have known:  
But now you go, I may with honour own.  Almanz. 
But, Madam, I am forced to disobey:  
In your defence, my honour bids me stay.  
I promised to secure your life and throne;  
And, heaven be thanked, that work is yet undone.  Alma. 
I here make void that promise which you made:  
For now I have no farther need of aid:  
That vow which to my plighted Lord was given,  
I must not break; but may transfer to Heaven:  
I will with Vestals live:  
There needs no guard at a Religious door;  
Few will disturb the praying and the poor.  Almanz. 
Let me but near that happy Temple stay,  
And, through the grates, peep on you once a day.  
To famished hope I would no banquet give:  
I cannot starve, and wish but just to live.  
Thus, as a drowning man  
Sinks often, and does still more faintly rise;  
With his last hold catching what 'ere he spies;  
So, fallen from those proud hopes I had before,  
Your Aid I for a dying wretch implore.  Almah. 
I cannot your hard destiny withstand;  Boabdelin and guards above. 
But slip, like bending rushes, from your hand:  
Sink all at once, since you must sink at last.  Almanz. 
Can you that last relief of sight remove,  
And thrust me out the utmost line of love!  
Then, since my hopes of happiness are gone,  
Denied all favours, I will seize this one.  Catches her hand and kisses it. Boab. 
My just revenge no longer I'll forbear;  
I've seen too much; I need not stay to hear. descends  Almanz. 
As a small Shower  
To the parched earth does some refreshment give,  
So, in the strength of this, one day I'll live:  
A day:— a year— an age— for ever now;  betwixt each word he kisses her hand by force; she struggling. 
I feel from every touch a new Soul flow.  she snatches her hand away. 
My hoped Eternity of joy is past!  
'Twas insupportable, and could not last.  
Were heaven not made of less, or duller joy,  
'Twould break each Minute, and itself destroy.  Enter King and guards below. King Boab. 
This, this is he for whom thou didst deny  
To share my bed:— Let 'em together die.  Almah. 
Hear me, my lord—  Boab. 
— Your flattering Arts are vain:  
Make haste; and execute what I ordain. to Guards.  Almanz. 
Cut piecemeal in this cause,  
From every wound I should new Vigour take:  
And every limb should new Almanzor's make.  He puts himself before the Queen; the guards attaque him; with the King. Enter Abdelmelech. Abdelm. to the King. 
What angry God, to exercise his spite,  
Has armed your left hand to cut off your right!  The King turns, and the fight ceases. 
Hast, not to give but to prevent a Fate:  
The foes are entered at the Elvira gate:  
False Lyndaraxa ' has the Town betrayed,  
And all the Zegries give the Spaniards aid.  Boab. 
O mischief, not suspected nor foreseen!  Abdelm. 
Already they have gained the Zacatin,  
And, thence, the Vivarambla place possessed:  
While our faint Soldiers scarce defend the rest.  
The Duke of Arcos does one squadron head;  
The next by Ferdinand himself is led.  Almah. 
Now brave Almanzor, be a god again;  
Above our Crimes, and your own passions reign:  
My Lord has been, by Jealousy, misled  
To think I was not faithful to his bed.  
I can forgive him though my death he sought;  
For too much love can never be a fault.  
Protect him, then; and what to his defence  
You give not, give to clear my innocence.  Alman. 
Listen sweet Heaven; and all ye blessed above  
Take rules of Virtue from a Mortal love.  
You've raised my Soul; and if it mount more high,  
'Tis as the Wren did on the Eagle fly.  
Yes, I once more will my revenge neglect:  
And whom you can forgive, I can protect.  Boab. 
How hard a fate is mine, still doomed to shame:  
I make Occasions for my Rival's fame!  Exeunt. a Alarm within. Enter Ferdinand, Isabel, Don Alonzo d' Aguilar; Spaniards, and Ladies. Ferd. 
Already more than half the Town is gained:  
But there is yet a doubtful fight maintain d;  Alonz. 
The fierce young King the entered does attack,  
And the more fierce Almanzor drives 'em back.  Ferd 
The valiant moors like raging Lions, fight.  
Each youth encouraged by his Lady's sight.  Qu. Isab. 
I will advance with such a shining train,  
That Moorish beauties shall oppose in vain:  
Into the press of clashing swords we'll go;  
And where the darts-fly thickest, seek the foe.  K. Ferd. 
May Heaven, which has inspired this generous thought,  
Avert those dangers you have boldly sought:  
Call up more troops; the women, to our shame,  
Will ravish from the men their part of fame.  Exeunt Isabel and Ladies. Enter Alabez: and kisses the King's hand. Alabez. 
Fair Lyndaraxa, and the Zegry line  
Have led their forces with your troops to join:  
The adverse part, which obstinately fought,  
Are broke; and Abdelmelech prisoner brought.  K. Ferd. 
Fair Lyndaraxa and her friends shall find  
Th' effects of an obliged and grateful mind.  Alabez. 
But, marching by the Vivarambla place,  
The combat carried a more doubtful face;  
In that vast square the Moors and Spaniards met;  
Where the fierce conflict is continued yet.  
But with advantage on the adverse side,  
Whom fierce Almanzor does to conquest guide.  K. Ferd. 
With my Castilian foot I'll meet his rage;  Is going out: shouts within are heard. Victoria, Victoria. 
But these loud clamours better news presage:  Enter the Duke of Arcos, and Soldiers; their swords drawn and bloody. D. of Arcos. 
Granada now is yours; and there remain  
No Moors, but such as own the power of Spain.  
That squadron which their King in person led,  
We charged; but found Almanzor in their head.  
Three several times we did the Moors attack,  
And thrice, with slaughter, did he drive us back.  
Our troops then shrunk; and still we lost more ground:  
Till, from our Queen, we needful succour found.  
Her Guards to our assistance bravely flew,  
And, with fresh vigour, did the fight renew.  
At the same time—  
Did Lyndaraxa with her troops appear,  
And, while we charged the front, engaged the rear.  
Then fell the King (slain by a Zegry's hand:)  K. Ferd. 
How could he, such united force withstand!  D. of Arcos. 
Discouraged with his death, the Moorish powers  
Fell back; and, falling back, were pressed by ours.  
But, as when winds and rain together crowed,  
They swell till they have burst the bladdered cloud:  
And first the Lightning, flashing deadly clear,  
Flies, falls, consumes, 'ere scarce it does appear:  
So, from his shrinking troops, Almanzor flew;  
Each blow gave wounds, and with each wound he slew.  
His force at once I envied and admired;  
And, rushing forward, where my men retired,  
Advanced alone.  K. Ferd. 
— You hazarded too far  
Your person, and the fortune of the Warr.  D. of Arcos. 
Already, both our arms for fight did bare,  
Already held 'em threatening in the air:  
When Heaven (it must be Heaven) my sight, did guide,  
To view his arm, upon whose wrist, I spied  
A ruby Cross in Diamond bracelets tied.  
And just above it, in the brawnier part,  
By nature was engraved a bloody Heart.  
Struck with these tokens, which so well I knew,  
And staggering back, some paces I withdrew;  
He followed; and supposed it was my fear:  
When, from above, a shrill voice reached his ear;  
Strike not thy father, it was heard to cry;  
Amazed; and casting round his wondering eye,  
He stopped: then, thinking that his fears were vain.  
He lifted up his thundering arm again:  
Again the voice withheld him from my death;  
Spare, spare his life, it cried, who gave thee breath▪  
Once more he stopped, then threw his sword away;  
Blessed shade, he said, I hear thee, I obey  
Thy sacred voice: then, in the sight of all,  
He at my feet, I on his neck did fall.  Ferd. 
O blessed Event!—  Arcos. 
— The Moors no longer fought;  
But all their safety, by submission, sought:  
Mean time, my Son grew faint with loss of blood:  
And, on his bending sword supported, stood.  
Yet, with a voice beyond his strength, he cried,  
Led me to live, or die, by Almahide.  K. Ferd. 
I am not for his wounds less grieved than you▪  
For if, what now my Soul divines, prove true,  
This is that son, whom in his Infancy  
You lost, when by my father forced to fly.  D. Arcos. 
His Sister's beauty did my passion move,  
(The crime for which I suffered was my love.)  
Our marriage known, to Sea we took our flight,  
There, in a storm, Almanzor first saw light  
On his right Arm, a bloody heart was graved,  
(The mark by which this day, my life was saved.)  
The Bracelets and the Cross, his mother tied  
About his wrist, 'ere she in childbed died.  
How we were Captives made, when she was dead;  
And how Almanzor was in Africque bred,  
Some other hour you may at leisure hear,  
For see, the Queen, in triumph, does appear.  Enter Qu. Isabel: Lyndaraxa: Ladies, Moors and Spaniards mixed as Guards. Abdelmelech, Abenamar, Selin, Prisoners. K. Ferdinand embracing Queen Isabel. 
All stories, which Granadas Conquest tell,  
Shall celebrate the name of Isabel.  
Your Ladies too, who in their Country's cause,  
Led on the men, shall share in your applause▪  
And for your sakes, henceforward, I ordain,  
No Lady's dower shall questioned be in Spain.  
Fair Lyndaraxa, for the help she lent,  
Shall, under Tribute, have this Government.  Abdelm. 
O Heaven, that I should live to see this day!  Lynd. 
You murmur now, but you shall soon obey.  
I knew this Empire to my fate was owed:  
Heaven held it back as long as 'ere it could.  
For thee, base wretch, I want a torture yet— to Abdelm.  
— I'll cage thee, thou shalt be my Bajazet.  
I on no pavement but on thee will tread;  
And, when I mount, my foot shall know thy head.  Abdelm. stabbing her with a Poniard. 
This first shall know thy heart.  Lind. 
— Oh! I am slain!  Abdelm. 
Now boast, thy Country is betrayed to Spain.  K. Ferd. 
Look to the Lady.— Seize the Murdere.  Abdelmelech, stabbing himself. 
I'll do myself that Justice I did her.  
Thy blood I to thy ruined Country give, To Lynd.  
But love too well thy murder to out live.  
Forgive a love, excused by its excess,  
Which, had it not been cruel, had been less.  
Condemn my passion, then, but pardon me;  
And think I murdered him, who murdered thee. dies.  Lynd. 
die for us both; I have not leisure now;  
A Crown is come; and will not fate allow:  
And yet▪ I fell something like death, is near:  
My guards, my guards;—  
Let not that ugly skeleton appear.  
Sure destiny mistakes; this death's not mine;  
She dotes; and meant to cut another line.  
Tell her I am a Queen;— but 'tis too late;  
Dying, I charge Rebellion on my fate:  
Bow down ye slaves—  To the Moors. 
Bow quickly down, and your Submission show. they bow.  
I'm pleased to taste an Empire 'ere I go. dies.  Selin. 
She's dead and here her proud ambition ends.  Aben. 
Such fortune still, such black designs attends.  Ferd. 
Remove those mournful Objects from our eyes;  
And see performed their funeral Obsequies.  The Bodies carried off. Enter Almanzor and Almahide, Ozmyn and Benzayda. Almahide brought in a chair: Almanzor led betwixt Soldiers: Isabel salutes Almahide in dumb show. Duke of Arcos presenting Almanzor to the King. 
See here that Son, whom I with pride call mine;  
And who dishonours not your royal line.  K. Ferd. 
I'm now secure this Sceptre, which I gain,  
Shall be continued in the power of Spain;  
Since he, who could alone my foes defend,  
By birth and honour is become my friend,  
Yet I can own no joy; nor Conquest boast, to Almanz.  
While in this blood I see how dear it cost.  Almanz. 
This honour to my veins new blood will bring:  
Sreams cannot fail, fed by so high a Spring:  
But all Court-Customs I so little know  
That I may fail in those respects I owe.  
I bring a heart which homage never knew;  
Yet it finds something of itself in you:  
Something so kingly, that my haughty mind  
Is drawn to yours; because 'tis of a kind.  Qu. Isabel. 
And yet, that Soul, which bears itself so high,  
If fame be true, admits a Sovereignty.  
This Queen, in her fair eyes, such fetters brings,  
As chain that heart, which scorns the power of Kings.  Almah. 
Little of charm in these sad eyes appears;  
If they had any, now 'tis lost in tears.  
A Crown, and Husband ravished in one day;  
Excuse a grief, I cannot choose but pay.  Q. Isab. 
Have Courage, Madam, heaven has joys in store  
To recompense those losses you deplore.  Qu. Almah. 
I know your God can all my woes redress;  
To him I made my vows in my distress.  
And what a Misbeliever vowed this day,  
Though not a Queen, a Christian yet shall pay.  Qu. Isabel embracing her. 
That Christian name you shall receive from me;  
And Isabel of Granada be.  Benz. 
This blessed change, we all with joy receive:  
And beg to learn that faith which you believe.  Qu. Isabel. 
With reverence for those holy rites prepare;  
And all commit your fortunes to my care.  K. Ferd. to Almahide. 
You, Madam, by that Crown, you lose, may gain,  
If you accept a Coronet of Spain;  
Of which Almanzor's father stands possessed.  Qu. Isabel to Almahide. 
May you in him; and he in you be blessed.  Qu. Almahide. 
I owe my life and honour to his sword;  
But owe my love to my departed Lord.  Almanzor. 
Thus, when I have no living force to dread,  
Fate finds me Enemies amongst the dead.  
‛'m now to conquer Ghosts; and to destroy,  
The strong impressions of a Bridal joy.  Almah. 
You've yet a greater Foe, than these can be;  
Virtue opposes you and Modesty.  Almanz. 
From a false fear that Modesty does grow;  
And thinks true love, because 'tis fierce, its foe.  
'Tis but the wax whose seals on Virgin's stay:  
Let it approach Loves fire, 'twill melt away.  
But I have lived too long; I never knew  
When fate was conquered, I must combat you.  
I thought to climb the steep ascent of Love;  
But did not think to find a foe above.  
'Tis time to die, when you my bar must be,  
Whose aid alone could give me Victory.  
Without—  
I'll pull up all the sluices of the flood:  
And Love, within, shall boil out all my blood.  Q. Isab. 
Fear not your Love should find so sad success;  
While I have power to be your Patroness.  
I am her Parent, now, and may command  
So much of duty, as to give her hand.  gives him Almahides hand. Almah. 
Madam, I never can dispute your power,  
Or, as a Parent, or a Conqueror.  
But, when my year of Widowhood expires,  
Shall yield to your Commands and his desires.  Almanz. 
Move swiftly, Sun; and fly a lover's pace;  
Leave weeks and months behind thee in thy race!  K. Ferd. 
Mean time, you shall my Victories pursue;  
The Moors in woods and mountains to subdue.  Almanz. 
The toils of war shall help to wear each day;  
And dreams of love shall drive my nights away.  
Our Banners to th' Alhambra's turrets bear;  
Then, wave our Conquering Crosses in the Air;  
And Cry, with shouts of Triumph; live and reign,  
Great Ferdinand and Isabel of Spain.    

EPILOGUE to the Second Part of GRANADA.  
THey, who have best succeeded on the Stage,  
Have still conformed their Genius to their Age.  
Thus Jonson did Mechanic humour show,  
When men were dull, and conversation low.  
Then, Comedy was faultless, but 'twas course:  
Cobbs Tankard was a jest, and Otter's horse.  
And as their Comedy, their love was mean:  
Except, by chance, in some one laboured Scene,  
Which must atone for an ill-written Play.  
They rose; but at their height could seldom stay.  
Fame than was cheap, and the first comer sped;  
And they have kept it since, by being dead,  
But were they now to write when Critics weigh  
Each Line, and every word, throughout a Play,  
None of 'em, no not Jonson, in his height  
Could pass, without allowing grains for weight.  
Think it not envy that these truths are told,  
Our Poet's not malicious, though he's bold.  
'Tis not to brand 'em that their faults are shown,  
But, by their errors, to excuse his own.  
If Love and Honour now are higher raised,  
'Tis not the Poet, but the Age is praised.  
Wit's now arrived to a more high degree;  
Our native Language more refined and free.  
Our Ladies and our men now speak more wit.  
In conversation, than those Poets writ.  
Then, one of these is, consequently, true;  
That what this Poet writes comes short of you,  
And imitates you ill, (which most he fears)  
Or else his writing is not worse than theirs.  
Yet, though you judge, (as sure the Critics will)  
That some before him writ with greater skill,  
In this one praise he has their fame surpassed,  
To please an Age more Gallant than the last.   

Defence of the EPILOGUE. Or, An Essay on the Dramatic Poetry of the last Age.  
THe promises of Authors, that they will write again, are in effect, a threatening of their Readers with some new impertinence, and they who perform not what they promise, will have their pardon on easy terms. 'Tis from this consideration that I could be glad to spare you the trouble which I am now giving you, of a Preface, if I were not obliged by many reasons to write somewhat concerning our present Plays, and those of our predecessors on the English stage. The truth is, I have so far engaged myself in a bold Epilogue to this Play, wherein I have somewhat taxed the former writing, that it was necessary for me either not to print it, or to show that I could defend it. Yet, I would so maintain my opinion of the present Age, as not to be wanting in my veneration for the past: I would ascribe to dead Authors their just praises, in those things wherein they have excelled us: and in those wherein we contend with them for the pre-eminence, I would acknowledge our advantages to the Age, and claim no victory from our wit. This being what I have proposed to myself, I hope I shall not be thought arrogant when I inquire into their Errors. For, we live in an Age, so Sceptical, that as it determines little, so it takes nothing from Antiquity on trust and I profess to have no other ambition in this Essay, than that Poetry may not go backward, when all other Arts and Sciences are advancing. Whoever censures me for this inquiry, let him hear his Character from Horace: 
Ingeniis non ille favet plauditque sepultis,  
Nostra sed impugnat; nos nostraque Lividus odit.   
He favours not dead wits, but hates the living.  
It was upbraided to that excellent Poet that he was an enemy to the writings of his Predecessor Lucilius, because he had said, Lucilium luculentum fluere, that he ran muddy: and that he ought to have retrenched from his Satyrs many unnecessary verses. But Horace makes Lucilius himself to justify him from the imputation of Envy, by telling you that he would have done the same had he lived in an age which was more refined.  
Si foret hoc nostrum, fato, delapsus in aevum,  
Detraheret sibi multa, recideret omne quod ultra  
Perfectum traheretur: etc.  
And, both in the whole course of that satire, and in his most admirable Epistle to Augustus, he makes it his business to prove that Antiquity alone is no plea for the excellency of a Poem: but, that one Age learning from another, the last (if we can suppose an equality of wit in the writers,) has the advantage of knowing more, and better than the former. and this I think is the state of the question in dispute. It is therefore my part to make it clear, that the Language, Wit, and Conversation of our Age are improved and refined above the last: and then it will not be difficult, to infer, that our Plays have received some part of those advantages.  
In the first place, therefore, it will be necessary to state, in general, what this refinement is of which we treat: and that I think will not be defined amiss: An improvement of our Wit, Language, and Conversation. or, an alteration in them for the better.  
To begin with Language. That an Alteration is lately made in ours or since the Writers of the last Age (in which I comprehend Shakespeare, Fletcher and jonson) is manifest. Any man who reads those excellent Poets, and compares their language with what is now written, will see it almost in every line. But, that this is an Improvement of the Language, or an alteration for the better, will not so easily be granted. For many are of a contrary opinion, that the English tongue was then in the height of its perfection; that, from jonsons' time to ours, it has been in a continual declination; like that of the Romans from the Age of Virgil to Statius, and so downward to Claudian: of which, not only Petronius, but Quintilian himself so much complains, under the person of Secundus, in his famous Dialogue de causis corruptae cloquentiae.  
But, to show that our Language is improved; and that those people have not a just value for the Age in which they live, let us consider in what the refinement of a language principally consists: that is, either in rejecting such old words or phrases which are ill sounding, or improper, or in admitting new, which are more proper, more sounding and more significant.  
The Reader will easily take notice that when I speak of rejecting improper words and phrases I mention not such as are Antiquated by custom only: and, as I may say, without any fault of theirs: for in this case the refinement can be but accidental: that is when the words and phrases which are rejected happen to be improper. Neither would I be understood (when I speak of impropriety in Language) either wholly to accuse the last Age, or to excuse the present; and least of all myself. For all writers have their imperfections and failings▪ but I may safely conclude in the general, that our improprieties are less frequent, and less gross than theirs. One Testimony of this is undeniable, that we are the first who have observed them. and, certainly, to observe errors is a great step to the correcting of them. But, malice and partiality set apart, let any man who understands English, read diligently the works of Shakespeare and Fletcher; and I dare undertake that he will find, in every page either some Solecism of Speech, or some notorious flaw in Sense: and yet these men are reverenced when we are not forgiven. That their wit is great and many times their expressions noble, envy itself cannot deny. 
— Neque ego illis detrahere ausim  
Haerentem capiti, multa cum laude, coronam:  but the times were ignorant in which they lived. Poetry was then, if not in its infancy among us, at least not arrived its vigour and maturity: witness the lameness of their Plots: many of which, especially those which they writ first, (for even that Age refined itself in some measure,) were made up of some ridiculous, incoherent story, which, in one Play many times took up the business of an Age. I suppose I need not name Pericles Prince of Tyre, nor the Historical Plays of Shakespeare. Besides many of the rest as the Winter's Tale, Love's labour lost, Measure for Measure, which were either grounded on impossibilities, or at least, so meanly written, that the Comedy neither caused your mirth, nor the serious part your concernment. If I would expatiate on this Subject, I could easily demonstrate that our admired Fletcher, who writ after him, neither understood correct Plotting, nor that which they call the Decorum of the Stage. I would not search in his worst Plays for examples: he who will consider his Philaster, his Humorous Lieutenant, his Faithful Shepherdess; and many others which I could name, will find them much below the applause which is now given them. he will see Philaster wounding his Mistress, and afterwards his Boy, to save himself: Not to mention the Clown who enters immediately, and not only has the advantage of the Combat against the Hero, but diverts you from your serious concernment, with his ridiculous and absurd Raillery. In his Humorous Lieutenant you find his Demetrius and Leoncius staying in the midst of a routed Army to hear the cold mirth of the Lieutenant: and Demetrius afterwards appearing with a Pistol in his hand, in the next Age to Alexander the Great. And for his Shepherd, he falls twice into the former indecency of wounding Women. but these absurdities, which those Poets committed, may more properly be called the Age's fault than theirs. for, besides the want of Education and Learning, (which was their particular unhappiness) they wanted the benefit of converse. but of that, I shall speak hereafter, in a place more proper for it. Their Audiences knew no better: and therefore were satisfied with what they brought. Those who call theirs the Golden Age of Poetry, have only this reason for it, that they were then content with Acorns, before they knew the use of Bread: or that 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 was become a Proverb. They had many who admired them, and few who blamed them. and, certainly, a severe Critic is the greatest help to a good Wit. he does the Office of a Friend, while he designs that of an Enemy: and his malice keeps a Poet within those bounds, which the Luxuriancy of his Fancy would tempt him to overleap.  
But it is not their Plots which I meant, principally to tax: I was speaking of their Sense and Language. and I dare almost challenge any man to show me a page together, which is correct in both. As for Ben. johnson, I am loath to name him, because he is a most Judicsous Writer; yet he very often falls into these errors. And I once more beg the Readers pardon, for accusing him or them. Only let him consider that I live in an age where my least faulrs are severely censured: and that I have no way left to extenuate my failings but my showing as great in those whom we admire. 
Coedimus, inque vicem praebemus cura sagittis.  I cast my eyes but by chance on Catiline; and in the three or four first pages, found enough to conclude that johnson writ not correctly. 
— Let the long hid seeds  
Of treason, in thee, now shoot forth in deeds  
Ranker than horror.  In reading some bombast speeches of Macbeth, which are not to be understood, he used to say that it was horror. and I am much afraid that this is so. 
Thy parricide, late on thy only Son,  
After his mother, to make empty way  
For thy last wicked Nuptials, worse than they  
That blaze that act of thy incestuous life,  
Which gained thee at once a daughter and a wife.  The Sense is here extremely perplexed: and I doubt the word They is false Grammar. 
— And be free  
Not Heaven itself from thy impiety.  A Synchoesis, or ill placing of words, of which Tully so much complains in Oratory. 
The Waves, and Dens of beasts could not receive  
The bodies that those Souls were frighted from.  The Preposition in the end of the sentence; a common fault with him, and which I have but lately observed in my own writings. 
What all the several ills that visit earth,  
Plague famine, fire, could not reach unto,  
The Sword nor surfeits, let thy fury do.  Here are both the former faults: for, besides that the Preposition unto, is placed last in the verse, and at the half period, and is redundant, there is the former Synchoesis, in the words (The Sword nor Surfeits) which in construction ought to have been placed before the other.  
Catiline says of Cethegus, that for his sake he would 
Go on upon the Gods; kiss Lightning, wrest  
The Engine from the Cyclops, and give fire  
At face of a full cloud, and stand his ire.  To go on upon, is only to go on twice. to give fire at face of a full cloud, was not understood in his own time: (and stand his ire) besides the antiquated word ire there is the Article His, which makes false construction: and Giving fire at the face of a cloud, is a perfect image of shooting, however it came to be known in those days to Catiline. 
— others there are  
Whom Envy to the State draws and pulls on,  
For Contumelies received; and such are sure ones.  Ones in the plural Number: but that is frequent with him; for he says, not long after. 
Caesar and Crassus; if they be ill men,  
Are Mighty ones.  
Such Men they do not succour more the cause, etc.  They redundant. 
Though Heaven should speak with all his wrath at once;  
We should stand upright and unfeared.   
His is ill Syntax with Heaven: and by Unfeared he means Unaffraid. words of a quite contrary signification.  
The Ports are open,  
He perpetually uses Ports for Gates: which is an affected error in him, to introduce Latin by the loss of the English Idiom: as in the Translation of Tully's Speeches he usually does.  
Well placing of Words for the sweetness of pronunciation was not known till Mr. Waller introduced it: and therefore 'tis not to be wondered if Ben. johnson has many such lines as these But being bred up in his father's needy fortunes, Brought up in's sister's Prostitution, etc.  
But meaness of expression one would think not to be his error in a Tragedy, which ought to be more high and sounding than any other kind of Poetry and yet amongst many others in Catiline I find these four lines together: 
So Asia, thou art cruelly even  
With us, for all the blows thee given:  
When we, whose Virtues conquered thee,  
Thus, by thy Vices, ruined be.   
Be there is false English, for are: though the Rhyme hides it.  
But I am willing to close the Book, partly out of veneration to the Author, partly out of weariness to pursue an argument which is so fruitful in so small a compass. And what correctness, after this, can be expected from Shakespeare or from Fletcher, who wanted that Learning and Care which johnson had? I will therefore spare my own trouble of enquiring into their faults: who had they lived now, had doubtless written more correctly. I suppose it will be enough for me to affirm (as I think I safely may) that these and the like errors which I taxed in the most correct of the last Age, are such, into which we do not ordinarily fall. I think few of our present Writers would have left behind them such a line as this, 
Contain your Spirit in more stricter bounds.   
But that gross way of two Comparatives was then, ordinary: and therefore more pardonable in johnson.  
As for the other part of refining, which consists in receiving new Words and Phrases, I shall not insist much on it. 'Tis obvious that we have admitted many: some of which we wanted, and▪ therefore our Language is the richer for them: as it would be by importation of Bullion: others are rather Ornamental than Necessary; yet by their admission, the Language is become more courtly: and our thoughts are better dressed. These are to be found scattered in the Writers of our Age: and it is not my business to collect them. They who have lately written with most care, have, I believe, taken the Rule of Horace for their guide; that is, not to be too hasty in receiving of Words: but rather to stay till Custom has made them familiar to us, 
Quem penes, arbitrium est, & jus & norma loquendi.   
For I cannot approve of their way of refining, who corrupt our English Idiom by mixing it too much with French: that is a Sophistication of Language, not an improvement of it: a turning English into French, rather than a refining of English by French. We meet daily with those Fops, who value themselves on their Travelling, and pretend they cannot express their meaning in English, because they would put off to us some French Phrase of the last Edition: without considering that, for aught they know, we have a better of our own; but these are not the men who are to refine us: their Talent is to prescribe Fashions, not Words: at best they are only serviceable to a Writer, so as Ennius was to Virgil. He may. Aurum ex stercore colligere. for 'tis hard if, amongst many insignificant Phrases, there happen not something worth preserving: though they themselves, like Indians, know not the value of their own Commodity.  
There is yet another way of improving Language, which Poets especially have practised in all Ages: that is by applying received words to a new Signification. and this I believe, is meant by Horace, in that Precept which is so variously construed by Expositors: 
Dixeris Egregié, notum si callida verbum,  
Reddiderit junctura novum.  And, in this way, he himself had a particular happiness: using all the Tropes, and particularly Metaphors, with that grace which is observable in his Odes: where the Beauty of Expression is often greater than that of thought. as in that one example, amongst an infinite number of others; Et vultus nimium lubricus aspici.  
And therefore though he innovated little, he may justly be called a great Refiner of the Roman Tongue. This choice of words, and height'ning of their natural signification, was observed in him by the Writers of the following Ages: for Petronius says of him, & Horatij curiosa faelicitas. By this graffing, as I may call it, on old words, has our Tongue been Beautified by the three forementioned Poets, Shakespeare, Fletcher and johnson: whose Excellencies I can never enough admire. and in this, they have been followed especially by Sir john Suckling and Mr. Waller, who refined upon them. neither have they, who now succeed them, been wanting in their endeavours to adorn our Mother Tongue: but it is not so lawful for me to praise my living Contemporaries, as to admire my dead Predecessors.  
I should now speak of the Refinement of Wit: but I have been so large on the former Subject that I am forced to contract myself in this. I will therefore only observe to you, that the wit of the last Age, was yet more incorrect than their language. Shakespeare, who many times has written better than any Poet, in any Language, is yet so far from writing Wit always, or expressing that Wit according to the Dignity of the Subject, that he writes in many places, below— the dullest Writer of ours, or of any precedent Age. Never did any Author precipitate himself from such heights of thought to so low expressions, as he often does. He is the very janus of Poets; he wears, almost every where two faces▪ and you have scarce begun to admire the one, ere you despise the other. Neither is the Luxuriance of Fletcher, (which his friends have taxed in him,) a less fault than the carelessness of Shakespeare. He does not well always, and, when he does, he is a true Englishman; he knows not when to give over. If he wakes in one Scene he commonly slumbers in another: And if he pleases you in the first three Acts, he is frequently so tired with his labour, that he goes heavily in the fourth and, sinks under his burden in the fifth.  
For Ben. johnson, the most judicious of Poets, he always writ properly; and as the Character required: and I will not contest farther with my Friends who call that Wit. It being very certain, that even folly itself, well represented, is Wit in a larger signification: and that there is Fancy, as well as Judgement in it; though not so much or noble: because all Poetry being imitation, that of Folly is a lower exercise of Fancy, though perhaps as difficult as the other: for 'tis a kind of looking downward in the Poet; and representing that part of Mankind which is below him.  
In these low Characters of Vice and Folly, lay the excellency of that inimitable Writer: who, when at any time, he aimed at Wit, in the stricter sense, that is Sharpness of Conceit, was forced either to borrow from the Ancients, as, to my knowledge he did very much from Plautus: or, when he trusted himself alone, often fell into meanness of expression. Nay, he was not free from the lowest and most grovelling kind of Wit, which we call clenches; of which, Every Man in his Humour, is infinitely full. and, which is worse, the wittiest persons in the Drama speak them. His other Comedies are not exempted from them: will you give me leave to name some few? Asper, in which Character he personates himself, (and he neither was, nor thought himself a fool.) exclaiming against the ignorant Judges of the Age, speaks thus.  
How monstrous and detested is't, to see  
A fellow, that has neither Art nor Brain,  
Sat like an Aristarchus, or Stark-Ass,  
Taking men's Lines, with a Tobacco-Face,  
In Snuffe, etc.  
And presently after  
I mar'le whose wit 'twas to put a Prologue in yond Sackbut's mouth? they might well think he would be out of Tune, and yet you'd play upon him too. Will you have another of the same stamp?  
O, I cannot abide these limbs of Satin, or rather Satan.  
But, it may be you will object that this was Asper, Macilente, or, Carlo Buffone: you shall, therefore, hear him speak in his own person: and, that, in the two last lines, or sting of an Epigram; 'tis Inscribd to Fine Grand: who, he says, was indebted to him for many things, which he reckons there: and concludes thus; 
Forty things more, dear Grand, which you know true,  
For which, or pay me quickly, or I'll pay you.   
This was then the mode of wit, the vice of the Age and not Ben. Johnson's. for you see, a little before him, that admirable wit, Sir Philip Sidney, perpetually playing with his words. In his time, I believe, it ascended first into the Pulpit: where (if you will give me leave to clench too) it yet finds the benefit of its Clergy. for they are commonly the first corrupters of Eloquence, and the last reformed from vicious Oratory: as a famous Italian has observed before me, in his Treatise of the Corruption of the Italian Tongue; which he principally ascribes to Priests and preaching Friars.  
But, to conclude with what brevity I can; I will only add this in the defence of our present Writers, that if they reach not some excellencies of Ben. jonson; (which no Age, I am confident, ever shall) yet, at least, they are above that meanness of thought which I have taxed, and which is frequent in him.  
That the wit of this Age is much more Courtly, may easily be proved by viewing the Characters of Gentlemen which were written in the last. First, for jonson, Truewit in the Silent Woman, was his Masterpiece. and True-wit was a Scholarlike kind of man, a Gentleman with an allay of Pedantry: a man who seems mortified to the world, by much reading. The best of his discourse, is drawn, not from the knowledge of the Town, but Books. and, in short, he would be a fine Gentleman, in an University. Shakespeare showed the best of his skill in his Mercutio, and he said himself, that he was forced to kill him in the third Act, to prevent being killed by him. But, for my part, I cannot find he was so dangerous a person: I see nothing in him but what was so exceeding harmless, that he might have lived to the end of the Play, and died in his bed, without offence to any man.  
Fletcher's Don john is our only bugbear: and yet, I may affirm, without suspicion of flattery, that he now speaks better, and that his Character is maintained with much more vigour in the fourth and fifth Acts than it was by Fletcher in the three former. I have always acknowledged the wit of our Predecessors, with all the veneration which becomes me, but, I am sure, their wit was not that of Gentlemen, there was ever somewhat that was illbred and Clownish in it: and which confessed the conversation of the Authors.  
And this leads me to the last and greatest advantage of our writing, which proceeds from conversation. In the Age, wherein those Poets lived, there was less of gallantry than in ours; neither did they keep the best company of theirs. Their fortune has been much like that of Epicurus, in the retirement of his Gardens: to live almost unknown, and to be celebrated after their decease. I cannot find that any of them were conversant in Courts, except Ben. jonson: and his genius lay not so much that way, as to make an improvement by it. greatness was not, then, so easy of access, nor conversation so free as now it is. I cannot, therefore, conceive it any insolence to affirm, that, by the knowledge, and pattern of their wit, who writ before us, and by the advantage of our own conversation, the discourse and Raillery of our Comedies excel what has been written by them. and this will be denied by none, but some few old fellows who value themselves on their acquaintance with the Blackfriar: who, because they saw their Plays, would pretend a right to judge ours. The memory of these grave Gentlemen is their only Plea for being Wits. they can tell a story of Ben. jonson, and perhaps have had fancy enough to give a supper in Apollo that they might be called his Sons: and because they were drawn in to be laughed at in those times, they think themselves now sufficiently entitled to laugh at ours. Learning I never saw in any of them, and wit no more than they could remember. In short, they were unlucky to have been bred in an unpolished Age, and more unlucky to live to a resined one. They have lasted beyond their own, and are cast behind ours: and not contented to have known little at the age of twenty, they boast of their ignorance at threescore.  
Now, if any ask me, whence it is that our conversation is so much refined? I must freely, and without flattery, ascribe it to the Court: and, in it, particularly to the King; whose example gives a law to it. His own misfortunes and the Nations, afforded him an opportunity, which is rarely allowed to Sovereign Princes, I mean of travelling, and being conversant in the most polished Courts of Europe; and, thereby, of cultivating a Spirit, which was formed by Nature, to receive the impressions of a gallant and generous education. At his return, he found a Nation lost as much in Barbarism as in Rebellion. and as the excellency of his Nature forgave the one, so the excellency of his manners reformed the other. the desire of imitating so great a pattern, first wakened the dull and heavy spirits of the English, from their natural reservedness: loosened them, from their stiff forms of conversation; and made them easy and pliant to each other in discourse. Thus, insensibly, our way of living became more free: and the fire of the English wit, which was before stifled under a constrained melancholy way of breeding, began first to display its force: by mixing the solidity of our Nation, with the air and gaiety of our neighbours. This being granted to be true, it would be a wonder, if the Poets, whose work is imitation, should be the only persons in three Kingdoms, who should not receive advantage by it: or, if they should not more easily imitate the wit and conversation of the present age, than of the past.  
Let us therefore admire the beauties and the heights of Shakespeare, without falling after him into a carelessness and (as I may call it) a Lethargy of thought, for whole Scenes together. Let us imitate, as we are able, the quickness and easiness of Fletcher, without proposing him as a pattern to us, either in the redundancy of his matter, or the incorrectness of his language. Let us admire his wit and sharpness of conceit; but, let us at the same time acknowledge that it was seldom so fixed, and made proper to his characters, as that the same things might not be spoken by any person in the Play. let us applaud his Scenes of Love; but, let us confess that he understood not either greatness or perfect honour in the parts of any of his women. In fine, let us allow, that he had somuch fancy, as when he pleased he could write wit: but that he wanted so much Judgement as seldom to have written humour; or described a pleasant folly. Let us ascribe to jonson the height and accuracy of Judgement, in the ordering of his Plots, his choice of characters, and maintaining what he had chosen, to the end. but let us not think him a perfect pattern of imitation; except it be in humour: for Love, which is the foundation of all Comedies in other Languages, is scarcely mentioned in any of his Plays. and for humour itself, the Poets of this Age will be more wary than to imitate the meanness of his persons. Gentlemen will now be entertained with the follies of each other: and though they allow Cob and Tib to speak properly, yet they are not much pleased with their Tankard or with their Rags: And, surely, their conversation can be no jest to them on the Theatre, when they would avoid it in the street.  
To conclude all, let us render to our Predecessors what is their due, without confining ourselves to a servile imitation of all they writ: and, without assuming to ourselves the Title of better Poets, let us ascribe to the gallantry and civility of our age the advantage which we have above them; and to our knowledge of the customs and manners of it, the happiness we have to please beyond them.