The conquest of Granada by the Spaniards in two parts : acted at the Theatre Royall / written by John Dryden ...

Almanzor and Almahide, Or, The CONQUEST OF Granada By the SPANIARDS. The Second Part. (Book 2)

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 Heav'n 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 possest The greater space; and now crowds up the rest. VVhen from behind, there starts some petty State; And pushes on its now unwieldy fate: Then, down the precipice of time it goes, And sinks in Minutes, which in Ages 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 Conquer'd Kingdom will impart: Which, rescu'd from these Misbelievers hands; Shall now, at once shake off its double bands: At once to freedom and true faith restor'd: Its old Religion, and its antient Lord.

K. Ferd.

By that assault which last we made, I find, Their Courage is with their Success declin'd: Almanzor's absence now they dearly buy, VVhose Conduct crown'd their Armes with Victory.

Alonzo.

Their King himself did their last Sally guide, I saw him glist'ring in bright armour, ride To break a Lance in honour of his Bride. But other thoughts now fill his anxious brest; Care of his Crown his Love has dispossest. 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 giv'n me Courage, yet to hope a throne.

VVhile you without, our Common Foes subdue, I am not wanting to my self, or you. But have, within, a faction still alive; Strong to assist, and secret to contrive: And watching each occasion, to foment The peoples fears into a discontent: VVhich, 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 pri∣soners.

K. Ferd.

That tertia of Italians did you guide To take their post upon the River side?

Arcos.

All are according to your Orders plac'd: My chearful Soldiers their intrenchments hast, The Murcian foot have ta'ne the upper ground, And now the City is beleaguer'd round.

Ferd.

VVhy 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 Murd'rer shall not long his Conquest boast. But, Duke of Arcos, say, how was he slain?

Arcos.

Our Souldiers march'd together on the Plain, VVe two rode on, and left them far behind, Till, coming where we found the valley winde, VVee saw these Moors, who, swiftly as they cou'd, Ran on, to gain the Covert of the wood. This vve observ'd; and, having cross'd their vvay, The Lady, out of breath vvas forc'd to stay: The Man then stood and straight his fauchion drevv, Then told us, vve in vain did those pursue VVhom their ill fortune to despair did drive, And yet, vvhom vve shou'd never take alive. Neglecting this, the Master straight spurr'd on; But th' active Moor his horses shock did shun,

And 'ere his Rider from his reach could goe, Finish'd the Combat with one deadly blow. I, to revenge my Friend, prepar'd to fight, But now our foremost Men were come in sight, Who soon would have dispatch'd him on the Place, Had I not sav'd him from a death so base; And brought him to attend your Royal doom.

K. Ferd.

A Manly face; and in his ages bloom. But to content the Souldiers, he must dye; Go, see him executed instantly.

Q. Ysabel.

Stay; I would learn his name before he goe; You, Prince Abdalla, may the Pris'ner 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 declar'd, by the Event, That Ozmyn is reserv'd 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 sin'd above all humane kind.

Ozm.

Heav'n in my punishment, has done a grace; I could not suffer in a betters place: That I should dye by Christians, it thought good; To save your fathers 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 ally'd to mine, In her protection let your favour shine: To you, Great Queen, I make this last request; (Since pity dwells in every Royal Brest) Safe, in your care, her Life and Honour be: It is a dying Lovers Legacy.

Benz.

Cease, Ozmyn, cease so vain a sute 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 Lovers doom to give: My Sentence is, they shall together live. The Courts of Kings, To all Distress'd shou'd 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 joyn'd by love: And, if to add this Conquest Heav'n thinks good, I would not have it stain'd with Lovers blood.

Ferd.

Whatever Isabella 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 renown'd; Her best defence is in her Lovers found Love's a Heroique Passion which can find No room in any base degenerate mind: It kindles all the Soul with Honours Fire, To make the Lover worthy his desire. Against such Heroes I success should fear, Had we not too an Hoast 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 pardon'd me; but do they know What folly 'tis to trust a pardon'd Foe! A Blush remains in a forgiven Face; It wears the silent Tokens of Disgrace: Forgiveness to the Injur'd does belong; But they ne'r pardon who have done the wrong. My hopeful Fortune's lost! and what's above All I can name or think, my ruin'd Love! Feign'd Honesty shall work me into Trust; And seeming Penitence conceal my Lust. Let Heav'ns 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 Heav'n decreed Almanzors valour should alone succeed.

Aben.

Each Sally we have made since he is gone, Serves but to pull our speedy ruine 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: Heav'ns Out-cast; and the Dross of every Starr!

A tumultuous noise within

Enter Abdelmelech.

What new misfortune do these Cries presage?

Abdel.

They are th' effects of the mad Peoples rage.

All in despair tumultuously thy swarm; The farthest Streets already take th' Alarm; The needy creep from Cellars, under-ground, 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.

Curst 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 ruin'd me in Warr, They call their Insolence my want of Care.

Aben.

Curst be their Leaders who that Rage foment; And vail with publick good their discontent: They keep the Peoples 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 promis'd 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 Idoll make, Or Law, or Law's Interpreters can shake.

Aben.

The name of Common-wealth is popular; But there the People their own Tyrants are:

Boab.

But Kings who rule with limited Command Have Players Scepters put into their Hand. Pow'r has no ballance, one side still weighs down; And either hoysts the Common-wealth or Crown. And those who think to set the Skale more right, By various turnings but disturb the weight.

Aben.

While People tugg for Freedom, Kings for Pow'r, Both sink beneath some foreign Conquerour.: Then Subjects find too late they were unjust And want that pow'r of Kings they durst not trust.

To them Abdelmelech.

Abdel.

The Tumult now is high and dangerous grown: The People talk of rendring up the Town; And swear that they will force the Kings consent.

K. Boab.

What Councel can this rising storm prevent?

Abdel.

Their fright to no Perswasions will give ear: There's a deaf madness in a Peoples fear.

Enter a Messenger.

Mess.

Their fury now a middle course does take: To yield the Town, or call Almanzor back.

Boab.

Ile rather call my death.— Go, and bring up my Guards to my defence: Ile punish this outragious Insolence.

Aben.

Since blind opinion does, their reason sway, You must submit to cure 'em their own way. You to their Fancies Physick must apply: Give them that Chief on whom they most relye; Under Almanzor prosperously they fought: Almanzor therefore must with Pray'rs be brought.

Enter a Second Messenger.

Sec. Mess.

Haste all you can their fury to asswage: 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 lov'd Almanzor back.

Exit Abdelmelech,

Almanzor has th' Ascendant o're my Fate: I'me forc'd to stoop to one I fear and hate.

Disgrac'd, distrest, in exile, and alone, He's greater then a Monarch on his Throne. Without a Realm a Royalty he gains; Kings are the Subjects over whom he Raigns.

A shout of Acclamation's within.

Aben.

These shouts proclaim the people satisfy'd.

Boab.

We for another Tempest must provide. To promise his return as I was loath, So I want pow'r now to perform my oath. E're this, for Affricque he is sail'd 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 ev'ning 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 Pray'rs nor Promises his mind will move; 'Tis inaccessible to all, but Love.

K. Boab.

Oh, thou hast rows'd a thought within my brest, That will for ever rob me of my rest. Ah, Jealousie, how cruel is thy sting! I, in Almanzor, a lov'd 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, gorg'd and glutted, does with hunger last! Custome and Duty, cannot set me free, Ev'n Sin it self has not a Charm for me. Of marry'd Lovers I am sure the first. And nothing but a King could so be curst.

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 onely clogs with cares his happiness.

And, while he shou'd enjoy his part of Bliss, With thoughts of what may be, destroys what is.

K. Boab.

You guess'd aright; I am opprest with grief: And 'tis from you that I must seek relief.

To the Company.

Leave us, to sorrow there's a rev'rence due: Sad Kings, like Suns Ecclips'd, withdraw from view.

The Attendants goe 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 gath'ring in the Skie: Each calls his Mate to shelter in the Groves, Leaving, in murmures, their unfinish'd Loves▪ Perch'd 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 Husbands life?

Almah.

When Fate calls on that hard Necessity, I'll suffer death rather than you shall dye.

Boab.

Suppose your Countrey 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 Countreys sake: Or what's all one, must call Almanzor back.

Almah.

I see to what your Speech you now direct; Either my Love or Vertue you suspect. But know, that when my person I resign'd, 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 ruine, I pursue; He must return; and must be brought by you.

Almah.

That hour when I my Faith to you did plight I banish'd him for ever from my sight. His banishment was to my Vertue due; Not that I fear'd him for my self, but you. My Honour had preserv'd 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 intreaties 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 jealousie; But, your Command I prize above my life: 'Tis sacred to a Subject and a Wife: If I have pow'r Almanzor shall return.

Boab. letting go her hand and starting up.

Curst 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 jealousie had but too just a ground; And now you stab into my former wound.

Q. Almah.

This suddain 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 lov'd me more then to obey. I know you did this mutiny design; But your Love-plot I'le 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 your Self 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 dye, than be Oblig'd past payment to an Enemy.

Boab.

'Tis better; but you wives still have one way: When e're your Husbands are oblig'd, you pay.

Almah.

Thou, Heav'n, who know'st it, judge my inno∣cence. You, Sir, deserve not I should make defence. Yet, judge my Vertue 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're had; And each of'em enough to make me mad: But now, my Reason re-assumes its Throne: And finds no safety when Almanzor's gone. Send for him, then; I'le be oblig'd; 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 Heav'n which made me great, has chose for me: I must th' oblation for my People be. I'le cherish Honour, then, and Life despise; What is not Pure, is not for Sacrifice. Yet, for Almanzor I in secret mourn! Can Vertue, then, admit of his return? Yes; for my Love I will, by Vertue, square; My Heart's not mine; but all my Actions are. I'le, 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, I, to my Country, must a Foe appear.

Benz.

Think not my Ozmyn, that we here remain As friends, but Pris'ners to the Pow'r of Spain. Fortune dispences with your Countryes 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 pursu'd, 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 distrest:

Ozmyn.

My honour bids me succour the opprest: That life he sought, for his I'le freely give; We'll dye together; or together live.

Benz.

I'le 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.

Ye've liv'd, and now behold your latest hour.

Selin.

I scorn your malice, and defy your pow'r. A speedy death is all I ask you now; And that's a favour you may well allow.

Ozmyn; shewing himself.

Who gives you death shall give it first to me; Fate cannot separate our destiny.

knows his father.

My father here! then Heav'n it self has laid The snare, in which my vertue is betray'd.

Aben.

Fortune, I thank thee, thou hast kindly done, To bring me back that fugitive my Son. In armes too; fighting for my Enemy! I'le do a Roman justice; thou shalt dy.

Ozm.

I beg not, you my forfeit life would save: Yet add one Minute to that breath you gave. I disobey'd 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 perswade 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 disarm'd, 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'le yield my own;

Aben.

Nor tears, nor pray'rs thy life, or his shall buy.

Ozmyn

putting himself before Selin.

Then Sir, Benzaida's father shall not dye. And, since he'le 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 attacque them both. Ozmyn parryes his fathers 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 deserv'd, 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 Heav'n you had a Son:

Aben.

I am not with these shows of duty won.

Ozm.

to his father.

Heav'n know's 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 intreaties; by no length of time Will I be won: but, with my latest breath, I'le 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 Fathers 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'le answer you, when I can speak for tears. But, till I can— Imagine what must needs be brought to pass:

Embra∣ces 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 remov'd,) You are not better by my Daugher lov'd. Benzaida be your's — I can no more.

Ozmyn embracing his knees.

Blest 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 vertue 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: Ev'n that hard father yet may one day be By kindness vanquish'd as you vanquish'd me. Or, if my death can quench to you his rage, Heav'n makes good use of my remaining age.

Abdal.

I grieve your joyes 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 surprize 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 refus'd the Fortress to resigne.

Abdal.

The charge of hast'ning this Relief be mine.

Selin.

This, while I undertook, whether beset Or else by chance, Abenamar I met; Who seem'd 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'le put the Fortress in your Masters pow'r.

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 Succors 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 onely Pride to be belov'd again. How many are not lov'd 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 my self am to my self less neer. 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'le shun. If by his sword I perish; let him know It was because I would not be his Foe.

Ozmyn.

Goodness and Vertue all your Actions guide▪ You onely erre 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 vow'd 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 ventur'd to the Waves and Wind. I'le pray for both; but both shall be in sight; And Heav'n shall hear me pray, and see you fight.

Selin.

No longer, Ozmyn, combat a design, Where so much Love and so much vertue joyn.

Ozmyn to her.

Then Conquer, and your Conquest happy be Both to your self, 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 int'rest Heav'n 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 scorn'd to Treat, shall to a Conquest bow. To every sword I free Commission give; Fall on, my Friends, and let no Rebel live. Spare onely Lyndaraxa; let her be In Triumph led to grace my Victory. Since, by her falshood she betray'd my Love, Great as that falshood 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, my self to offer you my hands; And, of my own accord, invite your bands. I wish'd to be my Abdelmelechs Slave; I did but wish, and easie Fortune gave.

Abdel.

O, more then Woman, false! but 'tis in vain. Can you e're hope to be believ'd again? I'le sooner trust th' Hyaena than your smile; Or, than your Tears, the weeping Crocodile. In War and Love none should be twice deceivd; The fault is mine if you are now believ'd.

Lynd.

Be overwise, thou, and too late repent; Your Crime will carry its own punishment. I am well pleas'd not to be justify'd: I owe no satisfaction to your pride.

It will be more advantage to my Fame, To have it said, I never own'd a Flame.

Abdel.

'Tis true; my pride has satisfy'd it self: I have at length escap'd the deadly shelf. Th' excuses you prepare will be in vain, Till I am fool enough to love again.

Lynd.

Am I not lov'd!

Abdel.

—I must, with shame, avow I lov'd you once; but do not love you now.

Lynd.

Have I for this betray'd 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 grosse a cheat; 'Twas kept for me when you refus'd 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 lov'd enough to offer you to Treat. She who is lov'd must little Letts create. But you bold Lovers are to force your Fate. This force you us'd my Maiden blush will save; You seem'd to take what secretly I gave. I knew we must be Conquer'd; but I knew What Confidence I might repose in you. I knew you were too grateful to expose My Friends and Soldiers to be us'd like Foes.

Abdel.

Well; though I love you not, their lives shall be Spar'd out of Pity and Humanity.

To a Soldier.

Alferez, Goe, and let the slaughter cease.

Lynd.

Then must I to your pity owe my peace!

Exit the Alferez.

Is that the tender'st term you can afford! Time was, you wou'd have us'd 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 Heav'n impart To please your Eyes, but not to move your Heart! I'le shrowd 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 wither'd Love does shoot, Like the faint Herbage of a Rock, wants root. Love is a tender Amity, refin'd: 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 Brest; And tortur'd me so long that I confest. Now I expect to suffer for my Sin; My Monarchy must end; and yours begin.

Lynd.

Confess not Love, but spare your self 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 Mistriss like a conquer'd 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 Souldiers 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 pow'r. Why did Heav'n make a fool a Conquerour! 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 pow'r from every part; Made her way open to my naked heart:

To a Sold.

Go, strictly charge my Souldiers to retreat: Those countermand who are not enter'd yet. On peril of your lives leave all things free.

Exit Souldier.

Now, Madam, love Abdalla more than me. I only ask, in duty, you would bring The keys of our Albazin to the King: I'le make your terms as gentle as you please.

Trumpets sound a charge within: and Souldiers shout.

What shouts; and what new sounds of war are these?

Lind.

Fortune, I hope, has favour'd my intent

aside.

Of gaining time; and welcome succours sent.

Enter Alferez.

Alf.

All's lost; and you are fatally deceiv'd: The foe is enter'd: and the place reliev'd. Scarce from the walls had I drawn off my men When, from their Camp, the Enemy rush'd in: And Prince Abdalla enter'd first the gate.

Abdel.

I am betray'd; and find it now too late.

to her.

When your proud Soul to flatt'ries 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 pardon'd 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, Il'e bring a friend to satisfie 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 re∣treats fighting: and is pursued by the adverse party off the Stage.

An Alarm within.

Enter again Abdalla and the Duke of Arcos. with Lyndaraxa.

Arcos.

Bold Abdelmelech twice our Spaniards fac'd; Though much outnumbred; 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 prosper'd too, If, Madam, he like me, had fought for you.

Lind.

Fortune, at last has chosen with my eies; And, where I would have giv'n it, plac'd 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 seem'd unkind. When your malicious fortune doom'd your fall My care restrain'd you, then, from loosing all. Against your destiny I shut the Gate: And Gather'd up the Shipwracks of your fate.

I, like a friend, did ev'n your self withstand, From throwing all upon a loosing hand.

Abdal.

My love makes all your Acts unquestion'd go: And sets a Soveraign stamp on all you doe. Your Love, I will believe with hoodwink'd 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 loose, But sally out upon our frighted Foes. No Ornaments of pow'r so please my eies As purple, which the blood of Princes, dies.

Exeunt. He leading her.

SCENE, The Alhambra.

Boabdelin, Abenamar, Almahide; Guards, &c.

The Queen wearing a Scarfe.

Abenamar.

My little journey has successfull been; The fierce Almanzor will obey the Queen. I found him, like Achilles on the shore, Pensive, complaining much, but threatning more. And▪ like that injur'd Greek, he heard our woes: Which, while I told, a gloomy smile arose From his bent brows; and still, the more he heard, A more severe and sullen joy appear'd. But, when he knew we to despair were driv'n, Betwixt his teeth he mutter'd thanks to Heav'n.

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 repeal'd his banishment, He took the summons with a greedy joy, And ask'd 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 surprize, 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; seing Almahide approach him, he speaks.

Alman.

So Venus moves when to the thunderer In smiles or tears she would some sute 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 confest: By all the Heav'nly Nation she is blest, And each with secret joy admits her to his brest.

To her bowing.

Madam, your new Commands I come to know: If yet you can have any where I goe: If to the Regions of the dead they be, You take the speediest course, to send by me.

Almah.

Heav'n has not destin'd you so soon to rest: Heroes must live to succour the distrest.

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're enjoy: as from anothers 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 eies from what too much would please. As men in feavors famish their disease.

Almah.

No; you may find your Cure an easier way, If you are pleas'd to seek it; in your stay. All objects loose 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 free'd from Love you need not doubt; And, as you look'd it in, you'll look it out.

Almanz.

I, rather, like weak armies should retreat; And so prevent my more entire defeat. For your own sake in quiet let me goe: Press not too far on a despairing foe: I may turn back; and arm'd against you move With all the furious trayn 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 sov'raign good possest, 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 envy'd Rival you dispence Joyes too unruly, and too fierce for sence.

Almahide,

These are the day-dreams which wild fancy yields Empty as shaddows are, that fly o're 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 Flow'rs 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 recompence attends me if I stay?

Almah.

You know I am from recompence debarr'd; But I will grant you merit a reward. Your Flame's too noble to deserve a Cheat; And I too plain to practice 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 ruin'd if you goe▪ Your Vertue to the hardest proof I bring: Unbrib'd, preserve a Mistress and a King.

Alman.

I'le stop at nothing that appears so brave; I'le do't: and now I no Reward will have. You've given my Honour such an ample Field That I may dye, but that shall never yield. Spight of my self I'le Stay, Fight, Love, Despair; And I can do all this, because I dare. Yet I may own one suit.— That Scarfe, which since by you it has been born Is Blest, like Relicks, which by Saints were worn:

Almah.

Presents like this my Vertue durst not make But that 'tis giv'n you for my Husbands sake.

Gives the Scarfe.

Alman.

This Scarfe, to Honourable Raggs I'le wear: As conqu'ring Soldiers tatter'd 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 scarfe he begg'd, you could not have de∣ny'd: Nor does it shock the Vertue of a Wife, When giv'n that man, to whom you owe your life.

Almah.

Heav'n knows from all intent of ill 'twas free: Yet it may feed my Husbands jealousie, 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're-spread 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 debas'd a Mistress to a Wife! Love, like a Scene, at distance should appear; But Marriage views the gross-daub'd Landschape neer. Loves nauseous cure! thou cloyst whom thou shoudst pleas; And, when thou cur'st, then thou art the disease. When Hearts are loose, thy Chain our bodies tyes; Love couples Friends; but Marriage Enemies. If Love, like mine, continues after thee, 'Tis soon made sowr, and turn'd by Jealousie. 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 faile to cure my grief! Trouble me not; my grief concerns not you.

Almah.

While I have life I will your steps pursue.

Boab.

I'me out of humour now; you must not stay.

Almah.

I fear it is that Scarfe 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 Heav'n, 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 publick marks are known; But what we most desire to keep, has none.

Almah. approaching him.

Why will you in your Brest your passion croud Like unborn Thunder rowling 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 pow'r of Guilt; how Conscience can upbraid! It forces her not onely to reveal But to repeat what she would most conceal!

Almah.

Can such a toy, and giv'n in publick too—

Boab.

False Woman, you contriv'd it should be so. That publick Gift in private was design'd, The Embleme of the Love you meant to bind.

Hence from my sight, ungrateful as thou art; And, when I can, I'le banish thee my heart.

she weeps.

To them Almanzor wearing the scarfe: he sees her weep.

Almanz.

What precious drops are those Which, silently, each others track 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 curst be he who gave this cause of grief; And double curst who does not give relief.

Almah.

Our common fears, and publick miseries Have drawn these tears from my afflicted eies.

Alman.

Madam, I cannot easily believe It is for any publick cause you grieve. On your fair face the marks of sorrow lie; But I read fury in your Husbands eye. And, in that passion, I too plainly find That you'r 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 Heav'n is more to dying Martyrs Kind; Nor guardian Angels to their charge asign'd.

Boab.

O goodness counterfeited to the life! O the well acted vertue of a wife. Would you with this my just suspitions blind? You've given me great occasion to be kind! The marks, too, of your spotless love appear; Witness the badge of my dishonor there.

Pointing to Almonzor's scarfe.

Almanz.

Unworthy owner of a gemme so rare! Heav'ns, why must he possess, and I despair! Why is this Miser doom'd to all this store: He who has all, and yet believes he's poor?

Almah.

to Almanz.

You'r much too bold, to blame a jealousy, So kind in him, and so desir'd 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 loose. Distrust in Lovers is too warm a Sun, But yet 'tis Night in Love when that is gone. And, in those Clymes which most his scorching know, He makes the noblest fruits and Metals grow.

Alman.

Yes, there are mines of Treasure in your brest, Seen by that jealous Sun; but not possest. He, like a dev'l among the blest above, Can take no pleasure in your Heaven of love. Go, take her; and thy causless fears remove;

To the K.

Love her so well that I with rage may dy: Dull husbands have no right to jealousie: If that's allow'd, it must in Lovers be.

Boab.

The succor which thou bring'st me makes thee bold: But know, without thy ayd, my Crown I'le 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'le do; I'le suffer any thing, but thee.

Almanz.

I wonnot goe; I'le not be forc'd away: I came not for thy sake; nor do I stay. It was the Queen who for my ayd did send; And 'tis I only can the Queen defend: I, for her sake thy Scepter will maintain; And thou, by me, in spight of thee, shalt raign,

Boab.

Had I but hope I could defend this place; Three daies, thou shoud'st 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 tryal of my love.

Boab.

How can I think you love me, while I see That trophee of a Rivals Victory? I'le tear it from his side▪ —

Almanz.

—I'le hold it fast As life: and, when life's gone, I'le hold this last. And, if thou tak'st it after I am slain, I'le send my Ghost to fetch it back again.

Almah.

When I bestow'd that scarf, I had not thought Or not consider'd, it might be a fau't. But, since my Lord's displeas'd 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 scorn'd Almanzor wear? May Turnu's fate be thine; who dar'd to bear The belt of murder'd 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.

An 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 fool'd, 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 conqu'ring 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 wonnot lift an arm in his defence: And yet I wonnot stir one foot from hence. I to your Kings defence his town resign; This onely spot whereon I stand, is mine.

to the Queen.

Madam, be safe; and lay aside your fear, You are, as in a Magique Circle, here.

Boab.

To our own Valour our success we'l 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 Abena∣mar, one way, the King the other, with Abdelmelech, &c.

Alarm within.

Enter Abdelmelech, his sword drawn.

Abdel.

Granada is no more! th' unhappy King Vent'ring too far, 'ere we could succour bring, Was, by the Duke of Arcos, Pris'ner made; And, past relief, is to the Fort convey'd.

Almanz.

Heav'n, thou art just! go, now despise my aid.

Almah.

Unkind Almanzor, how am I betray'd! Betray'd 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 vow'd he would for honour fight; And lets my husband perish in my sight.

Exeunt Almahide and Esperanza.

Almanz.

O, I have err'd; but fury made me blind: And, in her just reproach, my fault I find! I promis'd ev'n for him to fight, whom I— —But since he's lov'd by her he must not dye. Thus, happy fortune comes to me in vain, When I my self must ruine it again.

To him Abenamar, Hamet, Abdelmelech, Zulema; Soldiers.

Aben.

The foe has enter'd the Vermillion towr's; And nothing but th' Alhambra now is ours.

Alman.

Ev'n 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 knowst this place,— And, like a Clock wound up, strik'st here for me; Now, Chance, assert thy own inconstancy: And, Fortune, fight, that thou maist Fortune be. They come; here, favour'd 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.

An 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 refus'd 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 then my hopes could make. Your benefits revenge my crimes to you: For, I my shame in that bright Mirrour, view.

Alman.

No more; you give me thanks you do not ow, I have been faulty; and repent me now. But, though our Penitence a vertue be, Mean Souls alone repent in misery. The brave own faults when good success is giv'n: For then they come on equal terms to Heav'n.

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 pursu'd 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 straight are far disjoind, Some born by tydes and others by the wind, So, in this ruine, from each other rent, With heav'd 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 lovers brest: Like open Seas we seldom are at rest. Upon thy Coasts our wealth is daily cast; And thou, like Pyrates, mak'st no peace to last.

To them Lyndaraxa, Duke of Arcos, and Guards.

D. Arcos.

We were supriz'd when least we did suspect; And justly suffer'd 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 joynd 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 Heav'n 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 deserv'd that love he gave:

Lind.

Your business cools, while tediously it stays On the low Theme of Adelmelechs praise.

Zul.

This, I present from Prince Abdalla's hands:

Delivers a letter which she reads.

Lind.

He has propos'd, (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 unbarr'd, Let both at once advance, at once be free.

Lind.

Th' Exchange I will my self 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 Pris'ner to his greatest Foe. Kept, with strong guards, in the Almambra Tour; Without the reach ev'n of Almanzor's pow'r.

Ozmyn.

With grief and shame I am at once opprest.

Zul.

You vvill be more, vvhen I relate the rest. To you I from Abenamar am sent;

To Ozmyn.

And you alone can Selin's death prevent.

Give up your self a Pris'ner in his stead; Or, e're to morrow's dawn, believe him dead.

Benz.

E're 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 Brest unload your care.

Exeunt all but Ozmyn and Benzayda.

Benz.

My wishes contradictions must imply; You must not goe; and yet he must not dye. 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 mid-way propose. My duty therefore shows the neerest 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 Parents name. And, when at once possest of him and you, Instead of freeing one, will murder two.

Ozm.

Fear not my Life; but suffer me to goe: What cannot onely Sons with Parents do! 'Tis not my death my Father does pursue; He onely would withdraw my Love from you.

Benz.

Now, Ozmyn. now your want of Love I see: For, would you goe, and hazard loosing me?

Ozm.

I rather would ten thousand Lives forsake. Nor can you e're believe the doubt you make.— —This night I with a chosen Band will goe; And, by surprize, will free him from the Foe.

Benz.

What Foe! ah whether would your Vertue fall! It is your Father whom the Foe you call. Darkness and Rage will no distinction make; And yours may perish for my Fathers sake.

Ozm.

Thus, when my weaker Vertue goes astray, Yours pulls it back; and guides me in the way: I'le send him word, my being shall depend On Selin's Life and with his Death shall end.

Benz.

'Tis that indeed would glut your Fathers rage: Revenge on Ozmyn's Youth, and Selin's age.

Ozm.

What e're I plot, like Sisyphus, in vain I heave a stone that tumbles down again!

Benz.

This Glorious work is then reserv'd for me; He is my Father; and Ile 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 Vertue 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, ev'n to you. I'le break those bonds in which my Father's ty'd: Or, if I cannot break 'em, I'le divide. What though my Limbs a Womans 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 goe. What she resolves I must prevent with care; She shall not in my Fame or Danger share. I'le 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 goe: She cannot reach me when I lie so low.

SCENE The Albayzin.

Enter on the one side Almanzor, Abdalla, Abdelme∣lech, 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 past on the other side; the Duke of Arcos approaches the Barrs, and calls to Al∣manzor.

Arc.

The hatred of the brave, with battails, 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 allowd. 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 Mistriss here. If I am proud, 'tis onely to my Foes; Rough but to such who Vertue would oppose. If I some fierceness from a Father drew, A Mothers Milk gives me some softness too.

Arcos.

Since, first you took, and after set me free, (Whether a sence of Gratitude it be, Or some more secret motion of my mind, For which I want a name that's more then kind) I shall be glad, by what e're means I can; To get the friendship of so brave a man: And would, your unavailing valour, call From aiding those whom Heav'n has doom'd to fall.

We owe you that respect— Which to the Gods of Foes besieg'd 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 Vertue which we wooe. Yet, though you give my Honour just offence, I'le take your kindness in the better sence. And, since you for my safety seem to fear, I, to return your Bribe, should wish you here. But, since I love you more then you do me, In all events preserve your Honour free: For that's your own, though not your destiny.

Arcos.

Were you oblig'd 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 chang'd, for wrongs receiv'd, That it was done for profit, none believ'd. The Kings 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 beaut'ous Qneen: whom you can never gain, While you secure her Husbands Life and Raign.

Almanz.

Then be it so: let me have no return

Here Lyndaraxa comes neer 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, Heav'n will not let me know; I'me sad to death, that I must be your Foe.

Arcos.

Heav'n, 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 resolv'd I'le try my utmost Art: In gaining him, I gain that Fortune too Which he has Wedded, and which I but Wooe. I'le try each secret passage to his mind; And Loves soft Bands about his Heart-strings wind. Not his vow'd Constancy shall scape my snare; While he, without, resistance does prepare, I'le melt into him e're 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 forc'd to fly. Who, much distrest, 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're 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 lov'd with all th' effects of Hate: One Lover would, by force, my person gain; Which one as guilty would by force detain. Rash Abdelmelechs Love I cannot prize; 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 injur'd you?

Keep for your self; (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 Cittadel, which now you see, Shall then, the head of Conquer'd 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 loose their sweetness in a Soldiers Ear: I am not that Almanzor whom you praise: But your fair Mouth can fair Idea's raise: I am a wretch, to whom it is deny'd T' accept, with Honour, what I wish with Pride. And since I fight not for my self, 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 then unexperienc'd Virgins, are To their first Loves; (though she has lov'd 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, franckly give their pains.

Lynd.

Almanzor, do not cheat your self, nor me; Your Love is not refin'd to that degree. For, since you have desires; and those not blest, Your Love••s uneasie, 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 flatt'ring 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 some-where else, 'tis a hard remedy; But yet you owe your self so much, to try.

Almanz.

My Love's now grown so much a part of me, That Life would, in the Cure, endanger'd be. At least it like a Limb cut off, would show; And better dye than like a Cripple goe.

Lynd.

You must be brought like mad Men to their cure; And darkness first and next new Bonds endure: Do you dark absence to your self 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 Paradice 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'le show him kind, and full of gayety. 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 deform'd or Beauty much decay'd▪ First, constancy in Love, a Vertue made.

From Friendship they that Landmark did remove; And, falsly, plac'd it on the bounds of Love. Let th' effects of change be onely try'd: Court me, in jest; and call me Almahide. But this is onely 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 Starrs that twinckle in a winters night; Though you have Eloquence to warm, and move Cold age; and praying Hermites 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 unchang'd; 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 pair'd above; But some still interfere in others Love! E're each, for each, by certain marks are known, You mould 'em off in haste, and drop 'em down. And while we seek what carelesly you sort, You sit in State; and make our pains your sport.

Exeunt on both sides.

ACT. IV.

SCENE

Abenamar, and servants.

Aben.

HAst; and conduct the Pris'ner to my sight.

Exit servant, and immediately enters with Selin bound.

Aben.

Did you, according, to my orders, write?

to Selin.

And have you summon'd Ozmyn to appear?

Selin.

I am not yet so much a slave to fear: Nor has your Son deserv'd 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 kneels.

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 Souldier or Servant.

Sold.

A youth attends you in the outter room; Who seems in hast; 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'le not be long away; I prithee goe; By all our Love and frindship —

Ben.

—Ozmyn, no. I did not take on me this bold disguise, For ends so low to cheat your watchmens eies. When I attempted this; it was to doe An Action, to be envy'd ev'n by you: But you, alas, have been too diligent, And, what I purpos'd, 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 ask'd thee in my pow'r. My own lost wealth thou giv'st not only back, But driv'st upon my Coast my Pyrats wrack.

Selin.

With Ozmyns kindness I was griev'd before; But yours, Benzaida, has undone me more.

Aben.

to Sold.

Go fetch new fetters, and the daughter binde

Ozm.

Be just, at least, Sir though you are not kind. Benzayda, is not, as a Pris'ner, brought; But comes to suffer for anothers fau't.

Aben.

Then Ozmyn, mark; that justice which I doe, 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 pai'd 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 termes? is this the liberty? Ah, Sir, how can you so inhumane 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 loose? I can do neither; in this wretched state The least that I can suffer is your hate: And yet, that's worse than death: Ev'n while I sue, And choose your hatred, I could dye for you. Break quickly, heart; or let my blood be spilt By my own hand, to save a fathers 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 goe, And take from him a Care; from you a foe.

Ozmyn.

How, my Benzaida! can you thus resign That love, which you have vow'd so firmly mine? Can you leave me for life and liberty?

Ben.

What I have done will show that I dare dy.

But I'le 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 ransom'd by your life. Barbarian, thy old foe defyes 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 consider'd me. He still declin'd the Combate 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 suff'rers be; And punishment's a favour done to me. If we are foes: since you have pow'r to kill 'Tis gen'rous 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 embrue? Kill him unarm'd, who, arm'd, shun'd killing you! Am I your foe? since you detest my line, That hated name of Zegry I resign: For you, Benzayda will her self disclaim: Call me your daughter, and forget my name.

Selin.

This vertue wou'd even Savages subdue; And shall it want the pow'r to vanquish you?

Ozmyn.

It has, it has: I read it in his eyes; 'Tis now not anger; 'tis but shame denyes. A shame of errour; that great spirits find, Which keeps down vertue strugling in the mind.

Aben.

Yes; I am vanquish'd! the fierce conflict's past: And shame it self is novv ore'come at last.

'Twas long before my stubborn Mind was won; But, melting once, I on the suddain 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 Vertue vanquish'd 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 goe! I have more kindness then I yet can show. For my recov'ry, I must shun your sight: Eyes, us'd 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 goe. 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. Encamp'd without the Fort the Spaniard lies; And may, in spight of us, send in supplies. Consider yet, e're we attacque the place, What 'tis to storm it in an Armies face.

Almanz.

The minds of Heroes their own measures are, They stand exempted from the rules of War.

One Loose, one Sallye of the Heroes Soul, Does all the Military Art controul. While tim'rous Wit goes round, or foords the shore; He shoots the Gulph; and is already o're. And, when th' Enthusiastique fit is spent, Looks back amaz'd at what he underwent.

An Alarm within. Exeunt.

Enter Almanzor and Abdelmelech with their Soldiers.

Abdelm.

They fly, they fly; take breath and charge agen.

Almanz.

Make good your entrance, and bring up more men I fear'd, 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 charg'd with fury on my little Band; Who, much o're-powr'd, could scarce the shock withstand.

Almanz.

E're night we shall the whole Albayzin gain, But see the Spaniards march along the Plain, To its relief: you Abdelmelech, goe 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 onely fear to fly: We're not enough to Conquer but to Dye.

Abdelm.

No, Prince; that mean advantage I refuse: 'Tis in your pow'r a nobler Fate to choose. Since we are Rivals, Honour does command, We should not dye but by each others hand.

To his men.

Retire; and if it prove my destiny To fall; I charge you let the Prince goe 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 onely means for me, To dye; and leave you Lyndaraxa free.

Abdelm.

He who is vanquish'd and is slain, is blest: The wretched Conquerour can ne're have rest: But is reserv'd 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, ev'n 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 Countreys 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 offer'd by my Sword but by your Eyes. From those he first Ambitions poyson drew; And swell'd to Empire for the love of you. Accursed fair! Thy Comet-blaze portends a Princes fate; And suff'ring Subjects groan beneath thy weight.

Abdal.

Cease Rival, cease! I would have forc'd you; but it wonnot 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 usurp'd a Crown for love of you, I, then, did more than dying now I do. I'me still the same as when my Love begun: And could I now this fate foresee or shun;

dyes.

Would yet do all I have already done.

she puts her handkerchief to her eies.

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 blest above.

Lind.

He's gone; and peace go with a constant mind: His love deserv'd 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 ow him more; weep then; and join with me: So much is due ev'n 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 favour'd him, and frown'd on me, I then had been that heavy fool, not he: Just this had been my fun'ral Elegy. Thy arts and falshood I before did know; But this last baseness was conceal'd till now. And 'twas no more than needful to be known; I could be cur'd 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 onely signes 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 publick joy, like this, I pardon; and forget what ere's amiss.

Abdelm.

These Arts have oft prevail'd; but must no more: The spell is ended; and th' Enchantment 'ore. You have at last destroy'd, with much adoe; That love, which none could have destroy'd, but you. My love was blind to your deluding Art; But blind men feel, when stabb'd so neer the heart.

Lynd.

I must confess there was some pity due: But I conceal'd 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 my self 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 lov'd 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 scorn'd, you shall this night, attend: Your life the King has pardon'd for my sake; But, on your Pride, I some revenge must take. See now th' effects of what your Arts design'd: Thank your inconstant, and ambitious Mind. 'Tis just that she who to no Love is true, Should be forsaken, and contemn'd, like you.

Lynd.

All Arts of injur'd Women I will try: First I will be reveng'd; and then I'le die. But like some falling Tow'r— 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 ruines 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 declin'd: Command the Watch be set without delay; And in the Fort let bold Benducar stay: I'le haste to Court, where Solitude I'le fly;

aside.

And heard, like wounded Deer, in company. But oh, how hard is passion to remove, When I must shun my self to 'scape 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 pent: I smother'd 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 declar'd your love:: what follow'd then?

Zulema.

She look'd as Judges do on guilty men: When big with fate they triumph in their doomes, And smile before the deadly sentence comes. Silent I stood as I were thunder—strooke; Condemn'd 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 vow'd my next attempt she would reveal.

Hamet.

'Tis dark; and, in this lonely Gallery, (Remote from noyse, and shunning every eye) One hour each Evening she in private mourns, And prayes, and to the Cercle then returnes. 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.

E're they approach, let us retire unseen. And watch our time when they return agen 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 neer, And, from this place your voice will reach her ear.

Esperanza goes out.

Song, In two Parts.

He. 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're, and betimes to despair.

3.

He. I have try'd the false Med'cine 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 least 'tis a pleasure to know That you are not unhappy alone: For the Nymph you adore Is as wretch'd and more, And accounts all your suff'ring's her own.

5.

He. O ye Gods, let me suffer for both; At the feet of my Phillis I'le lye: I'le resign up my Breath, And take pleasure in Death, To be pity'd by her when I dye.

6.

She. What her Honour deny'd 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 suff'rings known.

Exit Esperanza.

Solus.

A hollow wind comes whistling through that door; And a cold shivering seizes me all o're. My Teeth, too, chatter, with a suddain fright: These are the raptures of too fierce delight! The combate 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'le 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're thou art; Thou art the first e're made Almanzor start. My Legs— Shall bear me to thee in their own despight: I'le rush into the Covert of thy Night, And pull thee backward by thy shrowd, to light. Or else I'le squeeze thee, like a Bladder, there: And make thee groan thy self 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. Ierr d a little, but extremes may joyn; That door was Hell's; but this is Heav'ns and mine.

Goes to the other door and is met again by the Ghost.

Again! by Heav'n 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 mouldring Earth. Love of thy Father me through Seas did guide; On Sea's I bore thee, and on Sea's I dy'd. I dy'd; 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 wander'd round the Chrystal walls above; But found th' eternal fence so steepy high, That, when I mounted to the middle Sky, I flagg'd, and flutter'd down; and could not fly. Then, from the Battlements of th' Heav'nly Tow'r, A Watchman Angel bid me waite this hour; And told me I had yet a task assign'd, To warn that little pledge I left behind; And to divert him, e're 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 my self unknown.) But oh, thou better part of Heav'nly Air, Teach me, kind spirit, (since I am still thy care,) My Parents 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'le tell. — From antient Blood thy Fathers Linage springs, Thy Mothers thou deriv'st from stemms of Kings. A Christian born, and born again, that day, When sacred Water wash'd thy sins away.

Yet bred in errors thou dost mis-imploy That strength Heav'n gave thee, and its flock destroy.

Almanz.

By Reason, Man a Godhead may discern: But, how he would be worshipt, cannot learn.

Ghost.

Heav'n does not now thy Ignorance reprove; But warns thee from known Crimes of lawless Love. That Crime thou know'st, and knowing, dost not shun, Shall an unknown, and greater Crime pull on: But, if thus warn'd, thou leav'st this cursed place, Then shalt thou know the Author of thy Race. Once more I'le see thee: when my charge is done, Far hence, upon the Mountains of the Moon Is my abode, where Heav'n and Nature smile; And strew with Flowers the secret bed of Nyle. Blest Souls are there refin'd, and made more bright, And, in the shades of Heav'n, prepar'd for light.

Exit Ghost.

Almanz.

Oh Heav'n, how dark a Riddle's thy Decree, Which bounds our Wills, yet seems to leave 'em free! Since thy fore-knowledge cannot be in vain, Our choice must be what thou didst first ordain: Thus, like a Captive in an Isle confin'd, Man walks at large, a Pris'ner of the Mind: Wills all his Crimes, while Heav'n th' Indictment draws; And, pleading guilty, justifies the Laws.— Let Fate be Fate; the Lover and the Brave Are rank'd, 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 dy, And, knowing this, dares yet love on, am I.

Almah.

That love which you can hope, and I can pay May be reciev'd and giv'n 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 my self, but will you take The forfeit of that bond which force did make?

Almah.

You know you are from recompence debarr'd, But purest love can live without reward.

Almanz.

Pure love had need be to it self 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 goe, 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 allow'd; I would, my self, dispence with what you vow'd.

Almanz.

Were I to dye 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 joyes I to my death would run; And think the business of my life ••ell 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 pow'r 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 Maximes of the Day; When Honour's present, and when Lov'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 watch'd by warm desire.

Almah.

Guards, who all day on painful duty keep, In dangers are not priviledg'd to sleep.

Alman.

And with what dangers are you threaten'd here? Am I alas, a foe for you to fear? See, Madam, at your feet this Enemy:

kneels.

Without your pity and your Love I die.

Almah.

Rise, rise: and do not empty hopes pursue: Yet think, that I deny my self not you.

Alman.

A happiness so nigh, I cannot bear: My loves too fierce; and you too killing fair. I grow enrag'd to see such Excellence: If words so much disorder'd, give offence, My love's too full of zeal to think of sence. Be you like me; dull Reason hence remove; And tedious formes; 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 sed! 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 my self, I in revenge, should kill. For I should hate us both, when it were done: And would not to the shame of life be wonn.

Alman.

Live but to night; and trust to morrows mind: 'Ere that can come, there's a whole life behind. Methinks already crown'd with joyes, I lie; Speechless and breathless in an Extasie.

Not absent in one thought: I am all there: Still closs; yet wishing still to be more near.

Almah.

Deny your own desires: for it will be Too little now to be deni'd 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 god-like you did look When my defence, unbrib'd you undertook. But, when an Act so brave you disavow, How little, and how mercenary now!

Almanz.

Are, then, my Services no higher priz'd? And can I fall so low to be despis'd?

Almah.

Yes; for whatever may be bought, is low, And you your self, who sell your self, are so. Remember the great Act you did this day: How did your Love to Vertue then give way? When you gave freedom to my Captive Lord; That Rival, vvho possest vvhat you ador'd. Of such a deed vvhat price can there be made? Think vvell: is that an Action to be paid? It vvas a Myracle of Vertue shovvn: And vvonders are vvith vvonder paid alone. And would you all that secret joy of mind Which great Souls onely in great actions find, All that, for one tumultuous Minute loose?

Alman.

I wou'd that minute before ages choose. Praise is the pay of Heav'n for doing good; But Loves the best return for flesh and blood.

Almah.

You've mov'd my heart, so much, I can deny No more; but know, Almanzor, I can dye. Thus far, my vertue yields; if I have shown More Love, than what I ought, let this attone.

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 Vertue I will ne'r disturb again: Nor dare to ask, for fear I should obtain.

Almah.

'Tis gen'rous to have conquer'd your desire; You mount above your wish; and loose it higher. There's pride in vertue; 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 Lyon whom no Arts can tame; Shall tear, ev'n those, who would my rage reclaime.

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 shun in vain. And know, you now are to obey, not raign.

Enter Almahide; schrieking: her hair loose; she runs over the stage.

Almah.

Help; help: oh heav'n, 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, heav'n; 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 curst!

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.

Ruin'd!

Hamet.

—Undone!

Lynd.

—And which is worst of all He escap'd:

Zul.

— I hear 'em loudly call.

Lynd.

Your fear will loose 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 Boab∣delin.

Boab.

What can the cause of all this tumult be? And what the meaning of that naked sword?

Lynd.

I'le tell, when fear will so much breath afford. The Queen and Abdelmelech. —T'will not out— Ev'n 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 believ'd most free, When she retir'd from noise and company. The Antichamber past, we gently knockt, (Unheard it seems) but found the Lodgings lockt. In dutious silence while we waited there, We, first a noise, and then long whispers hear: Yet thought it was the Queen at Pray'rs alone, Till she distinctly said,—If this were known My Love, what shame, what danger would ensue! Yet I (and sigh'd) could venture more for you!

Boab.

O Heav'n, what do I hear, (Almanz.) Let her go on.

Lynd.

And how, (then murmur'd 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 onely Friends; Behold in me O Kings, behold th' effects of Clemency! See here the gratitude of pardon'd foes! That life I gave 'em, they for me expose!

Hamet.

Though Abdelmelech was our Friend before, When Duty call'd 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 Traitors voice did hear, What did you, then?

Zul.

—I durst not trust my Ear:

But, peeping through the Key-hole, I espy'd 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 wip'd 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 follow'd, Modesty forbids to tell: Seeing, what we had thought beyond belief, Our hearts so swell'd 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 enter'd, scap'd 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 chang'd, and what a Monster am I made! My Love, my Honour, ruin'd and betray'd!

Almanz.

Your Love and Honour! mine are ruin'd 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.

Goe, when the Authors of my shame are found, Let 'em be taken instantly, and bound: They shall be punish'd as our Laws require: 'Tis just, that Flames should be condemn'd to fire. This, with the dawn of morning shall be done.

Aben.

You haste too much her Execution. Her Condemnation ought to be deferr'd: With justice, none can be condemn'd 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 Heav'n 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 slander'd Chastity.

Almanz.

And how dare you, who from my Bounty live, Intrench upon my Loves 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 joyn; You vindicate her Person, I her Line.

Lynd.

Of all Mankind Almanzor has least right In her defence, who wrong'd his Love, to fight.

Almanz.

'Tis false; she is not ill, nor can she be; She must be Chaste, because she's lov'd by me.

Zul.

Dare you, what Sence and Reason prove, deny?

Almanz.

When she's in question, Sence and Reason lye.

Zul.

For Truth, and for my injur'd Soveraign, What I have said, I will to death maintain.

Ozm.

So foul a falshood, who e'r 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 Traytors Rage.

Boab.

The Combat's yours; a Guard the Lists surround; Then raise a Scaffold in th' incompast 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 vertuous Wife.

Almanz.

But I am both wayes, curst.— For Almahide must dye, if I am slain; Or, for my Rival, I the Conquest gain.

Exeunt.

ACT V.

Almanzor

Solus.

I Have out-fac'd my self: and justify'd 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 faln! and now where shall we vertue find; She was the last that stood of Woman-kind: Could she so holily my flames remove; And fall that hour to Abdelmelechs Love? Yet her protection I must undertake; Not now for Love; but for my Honours sake. That mov'd me first, and must oblige me still, My cause is good, however hers be ill; I'le leave her, when she's freed; and let it be Her punishment, she could be false to me.

To him, Abdelmelech, guarded.

Abdelm.

Heav'n is not Heav'n; nor are there Deities. There is some new Rebellion in the Skies. All that was Good and Holy, is dethron'd, And Lust, and Rapine are for justice own'd.

Almanz.

'Tis true; what justice in that Heav'n can be Which thus affronts me with the sight of thee! Why must I be from just Revenge debarr'd! Chains are thy Arms, and Prisons are thy Guard: The death thou dy'st may to a Husband be A satisfaction; but 'tis none to me. My Love would justice to it self afford; But now thou creep'st to Death, below my Sword.

Abdelm.

This threat'ning would show better, were I free,

Almanz.

No; wer't thou freed, I would not threaten thee.

This arme should then.—But now it is too late! — I could redeem thee to a nobler Fate. As some huge Rock Rent 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 freedome thou shouldst soon bemoan: Dar'd, like a Lark, that on the open plain Pursu'd and cuffd, seeks shelter now in vain: So on the ground wou'dst thou expecting lye, Not daring to afford me victory. But, yet thy fate's not ripe: it is decreed Before thou dy'st that Almahide be freed. My honour first her danger shall remove, And then, revenge on thee my injur'd love.

Exeunt severally.

The Scene changes to the Vivarambla; and appears fil'd with Spectators: A scaffold hung with black, &c.

Enter the Queen, guarded, with Esperanza.

Almah.

See how the gazing people crowd the place: All gaping to be fill'd with my disgrace.

A shout within.

That shout, like the hoarse peals of Vultures rings, When, over fighting fields, they beat their wings. Let never woman trust in Innocence. Or think her Chastity its own defence; Mine has betray'd me to this publick shame: And vertue, which I serv'd, is but a name.

Esper.

Leave then that shaddow, and for succor fly To him, we serve, the Christians Deity. Vertue's no god, nor has she power divine: But he protects it who did first enjoyn.

Trust, then, in him, and from his grace, implore Faith to believe what rightly we adore.

Almah.

Thou Pow'r unknown, if I have err'd forgive: My infancy was taught what I believe. But if thy Christians truely worship thee, Let me thy godhead in thy succour see: So shall thy Justice in my safety shine, And all my dayes, which thou shalt add, be thine.

Enter the King, Abenamar, Lyndaraxa, Benzayda: then Abdelmelech guarded. And after him, Selin, and Alabez, as Iudges of the field.

Boab.

You Judges of the field, first take your place: The accusers and accus'd bring face to face. Set guards, and let the Lists be open'd wide, And may just Heav'n assist the juster side.

Almah.

What not one tender look, one passing word; Farewel, my much unkind, but still lov'd Lord! Your Throne was for my humble fate too high; And therefore Heav'n thinks fit that I should dye. My story be forgot when I am dead; Least 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; Least it should cause you trouble to repent.

Boabd.

'Tis pity so much beauty should not live;

aside.

Yet, I too much am injur'd to forgive.

goes to his seat.

Trumpets: Then enter two Mores bearing two naked swords before the Accusers Zulema and Hamet, who follow them. The Iudges 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 antient Race our Linage claims; And Zulema and Hamet are our names. Like Loyal Subjects in these lists we stand, And Justice in our Kings 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 dy.

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 Moors as before, with bare swords before Almanzor and Ozmyn.

Selin.

Say for what end you thus in armes appear: What are your names, and what demand you here?

Alman.

Ozmyn is his, Almanzor is my name; We come as Champions of the Queens fair fame:

Ozmyn.

To prove these Zegrys, like false Trators, lye; Which, like true Knights, we will maintain, or dye.

Selin.

to Almahide.

Madam, do you for Champions take these two; By their success to live or dye;

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 'orecome, 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 suborn'd 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 Victors 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 Zule∣ma to the farther end of the stage; till, hearing the trum∣pets 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 determin'd be:

Alman.

Hold, Traytor, and defend thy self 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 Queens 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 Zegrys trumpets sound: Almanzor turns upon Zulema and wounds him: he falls The Queens trumpets sound.

Alman.

Now triumph in thy sisters treachery.

stabbing him.

Zul.

Hold, hold; I have enough to make me dye, 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 lov'd her; and, to compass my intent, Us'd force, which Abdelmelech did prevent. The lye my Sister forg'd: 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.

—Ev'n thy whole offence!

Almanzor

to the Iudges.

If ought remains in the Sultana's cause, I here am ready to fulfil the Laws.

Selin.

The Law is fully satisfy'd; and we Pronounce the Queen and Abdelmelech free.

Abdelm.

Heav'n thou art just!

The Iudges rise from their seats, and goe before Almanzor, to the Queens Scaffold: he un∣binds the Queen and Abdelmelech; they all goe off, the people showting, and the Trum∣pets 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 Linnen 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 banish'd from Granada live.

Lynd.

Thou shou'dst have punish'd more, or not at all: By her thou hast not ruin'd, thou shalt fall.

aside.

The Zegry's shall revenge their branded Line: Betray their Gate, and with the Christians joyn.

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 Heav'n were due, My next, Almanzor, let me pay to you.

Somewhat there is, of more concernment, too, Which 'tis not fit you should, in publick, know. First let your wounds be dress'd with speedy care; And then you shall th' important Secret share.

Almanz.

When e're you speak, Were my wounds mortal, they should still bleed on; And I would listen till my life were gone: My Soul, should, ev'n for your last accent, stay; And then shoot out, and with such speed obey; It shou'd not bait at Heav'n 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, vertue will not sure, allow; I cannot clear my heart; but must my brow:

He approaches Almahide.

Welcome again my Vertuous, Loyal, Wife; Welcome, to Love, to Honour, and to Life.—

Goes to salute her, she starts back.

You seem— As if you from a loath'd embrace did goe!

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 Fathers 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 Jealousie, (For I must speak;) and after set you free, When you were Pris'ner 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 Traytors word,

Unheard, condemn, and suffer me to goe To death, and yet no common pity show!

Boab.

Love fill'd my heart ev'n to the brim before: And then, with too much jealousie, boil'd o're.

Almah.

Be't Love or Jealousie, tis such a Crime, That I'm forewarn'd to trust a second time. Know then, my Pray'rs to Heav'n, 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 kill'd by nothing but by you.

Exit Almahide.

Boab.

Yes, you will spend your life, in Pray'rs for me; And yet this hour my hated Rival see. She might a Husbands Jealousie forgive; But she will onely for Almanzor live. It is resolv'd, I will, my self, provide That vengeance, which my useless Laws deny'd: And, by Almanzor's death, at once, remove The Rival of my Empire, and my Love.

Exit Boabdelin.

Enter Almahide, led by Almanzor; and follow'd by Esperanza; she speaks entring.

Almah.

How much, Almanzor, to your aid I owe, Unable to repay, I blush to know. Yet, forc'd by need, e're 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 lab'ring Beast, no thanks deserve.

Almah.

Yet first your Vertue to your succor call, For, in this hard Command, you'll need it all.

Almanz.

I stand prepar'd; and whatsoe're 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 neer that side: From Winds and thickning Clouds we Thunder fear: None dread it from that quarter which is cleer. And I would fain believe, 'tis but your Art To shew 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 sed, This hour I have renounc'd my Husbands Bed, Judge then how much my Fame would injur'd be, If, leaving him, I should a Lover see!

Almanz.

If his unkindness have deserv'd that Curse, Must I for loving well be punish'd worse?

Almah.

Neither your Love nor Merits I compare; But my unspotted Name must be my care.

Almanz.

I have this day establish'd its renown.

Almah

Would you so soon, what you have rais'd, throw down?

Almanz.

But, Madam, Is not yours a greater Guilt To ruine him who has that Fabrique built?

Almah.

No Lover should his Mistriss Pray'rs withstand: Yet you contemn my absolute Command.

Almanz.

'Tis not contempt, When your Command is issu'd out too late: 'Tis past my pow'r; and all beyond is fate. I scarce could leave you when to Exile sent, Much less when now recall'd 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 goe: I am so much oblig'd; and have withal, A Heart so boundless and so prodigal,

I dare not trust my self 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 stun'd; and past all feeling now. Yet — can you tell me you have pow'r and will To save my life, and, at that instant, kill!

Alm.

This, had you stay'd, you never must have known: But now you goe, I may with honour own.

Almanz.

But, Madam, I am forc'd to disobey: In your defence, my honour bids me stay. I promis'd to secure your life and throne; And, heav'n be thank'd, that work is yet undone.

Alma.

I here make void that promise which you made: For now I have no farther need of ayd: That vow which to my plighted Lord was giv'n, I must not break; but may transfer to Heav'n: 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 famish'd hope I would no banquet give: I cannot sterve, 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, faln 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, Deny'd all favours, I will seyze this one.

Catches her hand and kisses it.

Boab.

My just revenge no longer I'le forbear; I've seen too much; I need not stay to hear.

descends

Almanz.

As a small Show'r To the parch'd earth does some refreshment give, So, in the strength of this, one day I'le 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 hop'd Eternity of joy is past! 'Twas insupportable, and could not last. Were heav'n not made of less, or duller joy, 'Twould break each Minute, and it self destroy.

Enter King and guards below.

King Boab.

This, this is he for whom thou didst deny To share my bed: — Let 'em together dye.

Almah.

Hear me, my Lord.—

Boab.

—Your flatt'ring Arts are vain: Make haste; and execute what I ordain.

to Guards.

Almanz.

Cut piece-meal in this cause, From every wound I shou'd new Vigour take: And every limb should new Almanzors 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 spight, Has arm'd 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 enter'd at the Elvira gate: False Lyndaraxa 'has the Town betray'd, And all the Zegrys give the Spanyards ayd.

Boab.

O mischief, not suspected nor foreseen!

Abdelm.

Already they have gain'd the Zacatin, And, thence, the Vivarambla place possest: While our faint Souldiers 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 Heav'n; and all ye blest above Take rules of Vertue from a Mortal love. You've rais'd 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 doom'd to shame: I make Occasions for my Rivals fame!

Exeunt.

An Alarm within.

Enter Ferdinand, Isabel, Don Alonzo d' Aguilar; Spa∣niards, and Ladies.

Ferd.

Already more than half the Town is gain'd: But there is yet a doubtful fight maintain d;

Alonz.

The fierce young King the enter'd does attacque, And the more fierce Almanzor drives 'em back.

Ferd

The valiant Moores like raging Lyons, fight. Each youth encourag'd by his Ladies 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 goe; And where the darts-fly thickest, seek the foe.

K. Ferd.

May Heav'n, which has inspir'd this gen'rous 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 Isabella and Ladies.

Enter Alabez: and kisses the Kings 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 pris'ner brought.

K. Ferd.

Fair Lyndaraxa and her friends shall find Th' effects of an oblig'd and grateful mind.

Alabez.

But, marching by the Vivarambla place, The combat carry'd 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'le 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 Souldiers; their swords drawn and bloody.

D. of Arcos.

Granada now is yours; and there remain No Moors, but such as own the pow'r of Spain. That squadron which their King in person led, We charg'd; but found Almanzor in their head. Three several times we did the Moors attacque, 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 charg'd the front, ingag'd the rear. Then fell the King (slain by a Zegry's hand:)

K. Ferd.

How could he, such united force withstand!

D. of Arcos.

Discourag'd with his death, the Moorish pow'rs Fell back; and, falling back, were press'd by ours. But, as when winds and rain together crow'd, They swell till they have burst the bladder'd clowd: And first the Lightning, flashing deadly clear, Flyes, 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 envy'd and admir'd; And, rushing forward, where my men retir'd, Advanc'd alone.

K. Ferd.

—You hazarded too far Your person, and the fortune of the Warr.

D. of Arcos.

Already, both our armes for fight did bare, Already held 'em threatning in the air: When Heav'n (it must be Heav'n) my sight, did guid, To view his arm, upon whose wrist, I spy'd A ruby Cross in Diamond bracelets ty'd. And just above it, in the brawnier part, By nature was engrav'd a bloody Heart. Struck with these tokens, which so well I knew, And stagg'ring back, some paces I withdrew; He follow'd; and suppos'd it was my fear: When, from above, a shrill voice reach'd his ear; Strike not thy father, it was heard to cry; Amaz'd; and casting round his wond'ring eye, He stop'd: then, thinking that his fears were vain. He lifted up his thundring arm again: Again the voice withheld him from my death; Spare, spare his life, it cry'd, who gave thee breath▪

Once more he stop'd, then threw his sword away; Blest 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 blest 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 cry'd, Lead me to live, or dye, by Almahide.

K. Ferd.

I am not for his wounds less griev'd 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 forc'd to fly.

D. Arcos.

His Sisters beauty did my passion move, (The crime for which I suffer'd 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 grav'd, (The mark by which this day, my life was sav'd.) The Bracelets and the Cross, his mother ty'd About his wrist, 'ere she in childbed dy'd. 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 Spa∣niards mix'd as Guards. Abdelmelech, Abenamar, Selin, Pris'ners.

K. Ferdinand

embracing Qu Isabel.

All stories, which Granada's Conquest tell, Shall celebrate the name of Isabel. Your Ladies too, who in their Countries cause, Led on the men, shall share in your applause▪

And for your sakes, henceforward, I ordain, No Ladies dow'r shall question'd be in Spain. Fair Lyndaraxa, for the help she lent, Shall, under Tribute, have this Government.

Abdelm.

O Heav'n, that I should live to see this day!

Lynd.

You murmur now, but you shall soon obey. I knew this Empyre to my fate was ow'd: Heav'n held it back as long as 'ere it cou'd. For thee, base wretch, I want a torture yet—

to Abdelm.

—I'le 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 Ponyard.

This first shall know thy heart.

Lind.

—Oh! I am slain!

Abdelm.

Now boast, thy Country is betray'd to Spain.

K. Ferd.

Look to the Lady. —Seize the Murdere.

Abdelmelech,

stabbing himself.

I'le do my self that Justice I did her. Thy blood I to thy ruin'd Country give,

To Lynd.

But love too well thy murther to out live. Forgive a love, excus'd by its excess, Which, had it not been cruel, had been less. Condemn my passion, then, but pardon me; And think I murder'd him, who murder'd thee.

dyes.

Lynd.

Dye for us both; I have not leysure 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'me pleas'd to taste an Empyre 'ere I goe.

dyes.

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 perform'd their funeral Obsequies.

The Bodies carried off.

Enter Almanzor and Almahide, Ozmyn and Benzay∣da. Almahide brought in a chair: Almanzor led be∣twixt Souldiers: 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'me now secure this Scepter, which I gain, Shall be continu'd in the pow'r 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 honor 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 it self 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 it self so high, If fame be true, admits a Soveraignty. This Queen, in her fair eyes, such fetters brings, As chain that heart, which scorns the pow'r of Kings.

Almah.

Little of charm in these sad eyes appears; If they had any, now 'tis lost in tears. A Crown, and Husband ravish'd in one day; Excuse a grief, I cannot choose but pay.

Q. Isab.

Have Courage, Madam, heav'n has joyes in store To recompence 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 vow'd this day, Though not a Queen, a Christian yet shall pay.

Qu. Isabel

embracing her.

That Christian name you shall receive from me; And Isabella 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 loose, may gain, If you accept a Coronet of Spain; Of which Almanzor's father stands possest.

Qu. Isabel

to Almahide.

May you in him; and he in you be blest.

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 find's me Enemies amongst the dead. 'Ime now to conquer Ghosts; and to destroy, The strong impressions of a Bridale joy.

Almah.

You've yet a greater Foe, than these can be; Vertue 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 Virgins stay: Let it approach Loves fire, 'twill melt away. But I have liv'd too long; I never knew When fate was conquer'd, I must combate you. I thought to climb the steep ascent of Love; But did not think to find a foe above. 'Tis time to dye, when you my bar must be, Whose aid alone could give me Victory. Without—

I'le pull up all the sluces of the flood: And Love, within, shall boyl out all my blood.

Q. Isab.

Fear not your Love should find so sad success; While I have pow'r 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 pow'r, Or, as a Parent, or a Conquerour. But, when my year of Widowhood expires, Shall yield to your Commands and his desires.

Almanz.

Move swiftly, Sun; and fly a lovers pace; Leave weeks and moneths behind thee in thy race!

K. Ferd.

Mean time, you shall my Victories pursue; The Moors in woods and mountains to subdue.

Almanz.

The toyles 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 Conqu'ring Crosses in the Aire; And Cry, with showts of Triumph; live and raign, Great Ferdinand and Isabel of Spain.