Chapter 3

_Enter_ ABDALLA, ABDELMELECH, OZMYN, ZULEMA, _and_ HAMET, _as returning from the sally._

_Abdal._ This happy day does to Granada bring A lasting peace, and triumphs to the king!-- The two fierce factions will no longer jar, Since they have now been brothers in the war. Those who, apart, in emulation fought, The common danger to one body brought; And, to his cost, the proud Castilian finds Our Moorish courage in united minds.

_Abdelm._ Since to each others aid our lives we owe, Lose we the name of faction, and of foe; Which I to Zulema can bear no more, Since Lyndaraxa's beauty I adore.

_Zul._ I am obliged to Lyndaraxa's charms, Which gain the conquest I should lose by arms; And wish my sister may continue fair, That I may keep a good, Of whose possession I should else despair.

_Ozm._ While we indulge our common happiness, He is forgot, by whom we all possess; The brave Almanzor, to whose arms we owe All that we did, and all that we shall do; Who, like a tempest, that out-rides the wind, Made a just battle ere the bodies joined.

_Abdelm._ His victories we scarce could keep in view, Or polish them so fast as he rough-drew.

_Abdal._ Fate, after him, below with pain did move, And victory could scarce keep pace above: Death did at length so many slain forget, And lost the tale, and took them by the great.

_Enter_ ALMANZOR, _with the Duke of_ ARCOS, _prisoner._

_Hamet._ See, here he comes, And leads in triumph him, who did command The vanquished army of king Ferdinand.

_Almanz._ [_To the Duke._] Thus far your master's arms a fortune find Below the swelled ambition of his mind; And Alha shuts a misbeliever's reign From out the best and goodliest part of Spain. Let Ferdinand Calabrian conquests make, And from the French contested Milan take; Let him new worlds discover to the old, And break up shining mountains, big with gold; Yet he shall find this small domestic foe, Still sharp and pointed, to his bosom grow.

_D. Arcos._ Of small advantages too much you boast; You beat the out-guards of my master's host: This little loss, in our vast body, shows So small, that half have never heard the news. Fame's out of breath, ere she can fly so far, To tell them all, that you have e'er made war.

_Almanz._ It pleases me your army is so great; For now I know there's more to conquer yet. By heaven! I'll see what troops you have behind: I'll face this storm, that thickens in the wind; And, with bent forehead, full against it go, 'Till I have found the last and utmost foe.

_D. Arcos._ Believe, you shall not long attend in vain: To-morrow's dawn shall cover all the plain; Bright arms shall flash upon you from afar, A wood of lances, and a moving war. But I, unhappy, in my bonds, must yet Be only pleased to hear of your defeat, And with a slave's inglorious ease remain, 'Till conquering Ferdinand has broke my chain.

_Almanz._ Vain man, thy hopes of Ferdinand are weak! I hold thy chain too fast for him to break. But, since thou threaten'st us, I'll set thee free, That I again may fight, and conquer thee.

_D. Arcos._ Old as I am, I take thee at thy word, And will to-morrow thank thee with my sword.

_Almanz._ I'll go, and instantly acquaint the king, And sudden orders for thy freedom bring. Thou canst not be so pleased at liberty, As I shall be to find thou darest be free. [_Exeunt_ ALMANZOR, ARCOS, _and the rest, excepting only_ ABDALLA _and_ ZULEMA.

_Abdal._ Of all those Christians who infest this town, This duke of Arcos is of most renown.

_Zul._ Oft have I heard, that, in your father's reign, His bold adventurers beat the neighbouring plain; Then under Ponce Leon's name he fought, And from our triumphs many prizes brought; Till in disgrace from Spain at length he went, And since continued long in banishment.

_Abdal._ But, see, your beauteous sister does appear.

_Enter_ LYNDARAXA.

_Zul._ By my desire she came to find me here. [ZULEMA _and_ LYNDARAXA _whisper; then_ ZUL. _goes out, and_ LYNDAR. _is going after._

_Abdal._ Why, fairest Lyndaraxa, do you fly [_Staying her._ A prince, who at your feet is proud to die?

_Lyndar._ Sir, I should blush to own so rude a thing, [_Staying._ As 'tis to shun the brother of my king.

_Abdal._ In my hard fortune, I some ease should find, Did your disdain extend to all mankind. But give me leave to grieve, and to complain, That you give others what I beg in vain.

_Lyndar._ Take my esteem, if you on that can live; For, frankly, sir, 'tis all I have to give: If from my heart you ask or hope for more, I grieve the place is taken up before.

_Abdal._ My rival merits you.-- To Abdelmelech I will justice do; For he wants worth, who dares not praise a foe.

_Lyndar._ That for his virtue, sir, you make defence, Shows in your own a noble confidence. But him defending, and excusing me, I know not what can your advantage be.

_Abdal._ I fain would ask, ere I proceed in this, If, as by choice, you are by promise his?

_Lyndar._ The engagement only in my love does lie, But that's a knot which you can ne'er untie.

_Abdal._ When cities are besieged, and treat to yield, If there appear relievers from the field, The flag of parley may be taken down, Till the success of those without is known;

_Lyndar._ Though Abdelmelech has not yet possest, Yet I have sealed the treaty in my breast.

_Abdal._ Your treaty has not tied you to a day; Some chance might break it, would you but delay. If I can judge the secrets of your heart, Ambition in it has the greatest part; And wisdom, then, will shew some difference, Betwixt a private person, and a prince.

_Lyndar._ Princes are subjects still.-- Subject and subject can small difference bring: The difference is 'twixt subjects and a king. And since, sir, you are none, your hopes remove; For less than empire I'll not change my love.

_Abdal._ Had I a crown, all I should prize in it, Should be the power to lay it at your feet.

_Lyndar._ Had you that crown, which you but wish, not hope, Then I, perhaps, might stoop, and take it up. But till your wishes and your hopes agree, You shall be still a private man with me.

_Abdal._ If I am king, and if my brother die,--

_Lyndar._ Two if's scarce make one possibility.

_Abdal._ The rule of happiness by reason scan; You may be happy with a private man.

_Lyndar._ That happiness I may enjoy, 'tis true; But then that private man must not be you. Where'er I love, I'm happy in my choice; If I make you so, you shall pay my price.

_Abdal._ Why would you be so great?

_Lyndar._ Because I've seen, This day, what 'tis to hope to be a queen.-- Heaven, how you all watched each motion of her eye! None could be seen while Almahide was by, Because she is to be--her majesty!-- Why would I be a queen? Because my face Would wear the title with a better grace. If I became it not, yet it would be Part of your duty, then, to flatter me. These are but half the charms of being great; I would be somewhat, that I know not yet:-- Yes! I avow the ambition of my soul, To be that one to live without controul! And that's another happiness to me, To be so happy as but one can be.

_Abdal._ Madam,--because I would all doubts remove,-- Would you, were I a king, accept my love?

_Lyndar._ I would accept it; and, to shew 'tis true, From any other man as soon as you.

_Abdal._ Your sharp replies make me not love you less; But make me seek new paths to happiness.-- What I design, by time will best be seen: You may be mine, and yet may be a queen. When you are so, your word your love assures.

_Lyndar._ Perhaps not love you,--but I will be yours.-- [_He offers to take her hand, and kiss it._ Stay, sir, that grace I cannot yet allow; Before you set the crown upon my brow.-- That favour which you seek, Or Abdelmelech, or a king, must have; When you are so, then you may be my slave. [_Exit; but looks smiling back on him._

_Abdal._ Howe'er imperious in her words she were, Her parting looks had nothing of severe; A glancing smile allured me to command, And her soft fingers gently pressed my hand: I felt the pleasure glide through every part; Her hand went through me to my very heart. For such another pleasure, did he live, I could my father of a crown deprive.-- What did I say?-- Father!--That impious thought has shocked my mind: How bold our passions are, and yet how blind!-- She's gone; and now, Methinks, there is less glory in a crown: My boiling passions settle, and go down. Like amber chafed, when she is near, she acts; When farther oft, inclines, but not attracts.

_Enter_ ZULEMA.

Assist me, Zulema, if thou wouldst be That friend thou seem'st, assist me against me. Betwixt my love and virtue I am tossed; This must be forfeited, or that be lost. I could do much to merit thy applause,-- Help me to fortify the better cause; My honour is not wholly put to flight, But would, if seconded, renew the fight.

_Zul._ I met my sister, but I do not see What difficulty in your choice can be: She told me all; and 'tis so plain a case, You need not ask what counsel to embrace.

_Abdal._ I stand reproved, that I did doubt at all; My waiting virtue staid but for thy call: 'Tis plain that she, who, for a kingdom, now Would sacrifice her love, and break her vow, Not out of love, but interest, acts alone, And would, even in my arms, lie thinking of a throne.

_Zul._ Add to the rest, this one reflection more: When she is married, and you still adore, Think then,--and think what comfort it will bring,-- She had been mine, Had I but only dared to be a king!

_Abdal._ I hope you only would my honour try; I'm loth to think you virtue's enemy.

_Zul._ If, when a crown and mistress are in place, Virtue intrudes, with her lean holy face, Virtue's then mine, and not I virtue's foe. Why does she come where she has nought to do? Let her with anchorites, not with lovers, lie; Statesmen and they keep better company.

_Abdal._ Reason was given to curb our head-strong will.

_Zul._ Reason but shews a weak physician's skill; Gives nothing, while the raging fit does last, But stays to cure it, when the worst is past. Reason's a staff for age, when nature's gone; But youth is strong enough to walk alone,

_Abdal._ In cursed ambition I no rest should find, But must for ever lose my peace of mind.

_Zul._ Methinks that peace of mind were bravely lost; A crown, whate'er we give, is worth the cost.

_Abdal._ Justice distributes to each man his right; But what she gives not, should I take by might?

_Zul._ If justice will take all, and nothing give, Justice, methinks, is not distributive.

_Abdal._ Had fate so pleased, I had been eldest born, And then, without a crime, the crown had worn!--

_Zul._ Would you so please, fate yet a way would find; Man makes his fate according to his mind. The weak low spirit, fortune makes her slave; But she's a drudge, when hectored by the brave: If fate weaves common thread, he'll change the doom, And with new purple spread a nobler loom.

_Abdal._ No more!--I will usurp the royal seat; Thou, who hast made me wicked, make me great.

_Zul._ Your way is plain: the death of Tarifa Does on the king our Zegrys' hatred draw; Though with our enemies in show we close, 'Tis but while we to purpose can be foes. Selin, who heads us, would revenge his son; But favour hinders justice to be done. Proud Ozmyn with the king his power maintains, And, in him, each Abencerrago reigns.

_Abdal._ What face of any title can I bring?

_Zul._ The right an eldest son has to be king. Your father was at first a private man, And got your brother ere his reign began; When, by his valour, he the crown had won, Then you were born a monarch's eldest son.

_Abdal._ To sharp-eyed reason this would seem untrue; But reason I through love's false optics view.

_Zul._ Love's mighty power has led me captive too; I am in it unfortunate as you.

_Abdal._ Our loves and fortunes shall together go; Thou shalt be happy, when I first am so.

_Zul._ The Zegrys at old Selin's house are met, Where, in close council, for revenge they sit: There we our common interest will unite; You their revenge shall own, and they your right. One thing I had forgot, which may import: I met Almanzor coming back from court, But with a discomposed and speedy pace, A fiery colour kindling all his face: The king his prisoner's freedom has denied, And that refusal has provoked his pride.

_Abdal._ 'Would he were ours!-- I'll try to gild the injustice of his cause, And court his valour with a vast applause.

_Zul._ The bold are but the instruments o'the wise; They undertake the dangers we advise: And, while our fabric with their pains we raise, We take the profit, and pay them with praise. [_Exeunt._