SCENE II.

_Enter_ LYNDARAXA.

_Lyndar._ O, could I read the dark decrees of fate, That I might once know whom to love, or hate! For I myself scarce my own thoughts can guess, So much I find them varied by success. As in some weather-glass, my love I hold; Which falls or rises with the heat or cold.-- I will be constant yet, if fortune can; I love the king,--let her but name the man.

_Enter_ HALYMA.

_Hal._ Madam, a gentleman, to me unknown, Desires that he may speak with you alone.

_Lyndar._ Some message from the king.--Let him appear.

_Enter_ ABDELMELECH; _who throws off his disguise.--She starts._

_Abdelm._ I see you are amazed that I am here: But let at once your fear and wonder end. In the usurper's guards I found a friend, Who led me safe to you in this disguise.

_Lyndar._ Your danger brings this trouble in my eyes.-- But what affair this 'venturous visit drew?

_Abdelm._ The greatest in the world,--the seeing you.

_Lyndar._ The courage of your love I so admire, That, to preserve you, you shall straight retire. [_She leads him to the door._ Go, dear! each minute does new dangers bring; You will be taken, I expect the king.

_Abdelm._ The king!--the poor usurper of an hour: His empire's but a dream of kingly power.-- I warn you, as a lover and a friend, To leave him, ere his short dominion end: The soldier I suborned will wait at night, And shall alone be conscious of your flight.

_Lyndar._ I thank you, that you so much care bestow; But, if his reign be short, I need not go. For why should I expose my life, and yours, For what, you say, a little time assures?

_Abdelm_, My danger in the attempt is very small; And, if he loves you, yours is none at all. But, though his ruin be as sure as fate, Your proof of love to me would come too late. This trial I in kindness would allow; 'Tis easy; if you love me, show it now.

_Lyndar._ It is because I love you, I refuse; For all the world my conduct would accuse, If I should go with him I love away; And, therefore, in strict virtue, I will stay.

_Abdelm._ You would in vain dissemble love to me; Through that thin veil your artifice I see. You would expect the event, and then declare; But do not, do not drive me to despair: For, if you now refuse with me to fly, Rather than love you after this, I'll die; And, therefore, weigh it well before you speak; My king is safe, his force within not weak.

_Lyndar._ The counsel, you have given me, may be wise; But, since the affair is great, I will advise.

_Abdelm._ Then that delay I for denial take. [_Is going._

_Lyndar._ Stay; you too swift an exposition make. If I should go, since Zulema will stay, I should my brother to the king betray.

_Abdelm._ There is no fear; but, if there were, I see You value still your brother more than me.-- Farewell! some ease I in your falsehood find; It lets a beam in, that will clear my mind: My former weakness I with shame confess, And, when I see you next, shall love you less. [_Is going again._

_Lyndar._ Your faithless dealings you may blush to tell: [_Weeping._ This is a maid's reward, who loves too well.-- [_He looks back._ Remember that I drew my latest breath, In charging your unkindness with my death.

_Abdelm._ [_coming back_] Have I not answered all you can invent, Even the least shadow of an argument?

_Lyndar._ You want not cunning what you please to prove, But my poor heart knows only how to love; And, finding this, you tyrannize the more: 'Tis plain, some other mistress you adore; And now, with studied tricks of subtlety, You come prepared to lay the fault on me. [_Wringing her hands._ But, oh, that I should love so false a man!

_Abdelm._ Hear me, and then disprove it, if you can.

_Lyndar._ I'll hear no more; your breach of faith is plain: You would with wit your want of love maintain. But, by my own experience, I can tell, They, who love truly, cannot argue well.-- Go faithless man! Leave me alone to mourn my misery; I cannot cease to love you, but I'll die. [_Leans her head on his arm._

_Abdelm._ What man but I so long unmoved could hear [_Weeping._ Such tender passion, and refuse a tear!-- But do not talk of dying any more, Unless you mean that I should die before.

_Lyndar._ I fear your feigned repentance comes too late; I die, to see you still thus obstinate: But yet, in death my truth of love to show, Lead me; if I have strength enough, I'll go.

_Abdelm._ By heaven, you shall not go! I will not be O'ercome in love or generosity. All I desire, to end the unlucky strife, Is but a vow, that you will be my wife.

_Lyndar._ To tie me to you by a vow is hard; It shows, my love you as no tie regard.-- Name any thing but that, and I'll agree.

_Abdelm._ Swear, then, you never will my rival's be.

_Lyndar._ Nay, pr'ythee, this is harder than before.-- Name any thing, good dear, but that thing more.

_Abdelm._ Now I too late perceive I am undone; Living and seeing, to my death I run. I know you false, yet in your snares I fall; You grant me nothing, and I grant you all.

_Lyndar._ I would grant all; but I must curb my will, Because I love to keep you jealous still. In your suspicion I your passion find; But I will take a time to cure your mind.

_Halyma._ O, madam, the new king is drawing near!

_Lyndar._ Haste quickly hence, lest he should find you here!

_Abdelm._ How much more wretched than I came, I go! I more my weakness and your falsehood know; And now must leave you with my greatest foe! [_Exit_ ABDELM.

_Lyndar._ Go!--How I love thee heaven can only tell: And yet I love thee, for a subject, well.-- Yet whatsoever charms a crown can bring, A subject's greater than a little king. I will attend till time this throne secure; And, when I climb, my footing shall be sure.-- [_Music without._ Music! and, I believe, addressed to me.

SONG.

I.

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

II.

_When Phyllis I see, my heart bounds in my breast, And the love I would stifle is shown; But asleep, or awake, I am never at rest, When from my eyes Phyllis is gone. Sometimes a sad dream does delude my sad mind; But, alas! when I wake, and no Phyllis I find, How I sigh to myself all alone!_

III.

_Should a king be my rival in her I adore, He should offer his treasure in vain: O, let me alone to be happy and poor, And give me my Phyllis again! Let Phyllis be mine, and but ever be kind, I could to a desart with her be confined, And envy no monarch his reign._

IV.

_Alas! I discover too much of my love, And she too well knows her own power! She makes me each day a new martyrdom prove, And makes me grow jealous each hour: But let her each minute torment my poor mind, I had rather love Phyllis, both false and unkind. Than ever be freed from her power._

_Enter_ ABDALLA, _with guards._

_Abdal._ Now, madam, at your feet a king you see; Or, rather, if you please, a sceptered slave: 'Tis just you should possess the power you gave. Had love not made me yours, I yet had been But the first subject to Boabdelin. Thus heaven declares the crown I bring your due; And had forgot my title, but for you.

_Lyndar._ Heaven to your merits will, I hope, be kind; But, sir, it has not yet declared its mind. 'Tis true, it holds the crown above your head; But does not fix it 'till your brother's dead.

_Abdal._ All, but the Alhambra, is within my power; And that my forces go to take this hour.

_Lyndar._ When, with its keys, your brother's head you bring, I shall believe you are indeed a king.

_Abdal._ But since the events of all things doubtful are, And, of events, most doubtful those of war; I beg to know before, if fortune frown, Must I then lose your favour with my crown?

_Lyndar._ You'll soon return a conqueror again; And, therefore, sir, your question is in vain.

_Abdul._ I think to certain victory I move; But you may more assure it, by your love. That grant will make my arms invincible.

_Lyndar._ My prayers and wishes your success foretell.-- Go then, and fight, and think you fight for me; I wait but to reward your victory.

_Abdal._ But if I lose it, must I lose you too?

_Lyndar._ You are too curious, if you more would know. I know not what my future thoughts will be: Poor women's thoughts are all _extempore_. Wise men, indeed, Beforehand a long chain of thoughts produce; But ours are only for our present use.

_Abdal._ Those thoughts, you will not know, too well declare. You mean to wait the final doom of war.

_Lyndar._ I find you come to quarrel with me now; Would you know more of me than I allow? Whence are you grown that great divinity, That with such ease into my thoughts can pry? Indulgence does not with some tempers suit; I see I must become more absolute.

_Abdal._ I must submit, On what hard terms soe'er my peace be bought.

_Lyndar._ Submit!--you speak as you were not in fault.-- 'Tis evident the injury is mine; For why should you my secret thoughts divine?

_Abdal._ Yet if we might be judged by reason's laws--

_Lyndar._ Then you would have your reason judge my cause!-- Either confess your fault, or hold your tongue; For I am sure I'm never in the wrong.

_Abdal._ Then I acknowledge it.

_Lyndar._ Then I forgive.

_Abdal._ Under how hard a law poor lovers live! Who, like the vanquished, must their right release, And with the loss of reason buy their peace.-- [_Aside._ Madam, to show that you my power command, I put my life and safety in your hand:-- Dispose of the Albayzyn as you please, To your fair hands I here resign the keys.

_Lyndar._ I take your gift, because your love it shows, And faithful Selin for alcade chuse.

_Abdal._ Selin, from her alone your orders take.-- This one request, yet, madam, let me make, That, from those turrets, you the assault will see; And crown, once more, my arms with victory. [_Exeunt, leading her out._ [SELIN _remains with_ GAZUL _and_ REDUAN, _his servants._

_Selin._ Gazul, go tell my daughter that I wait-- You Reduan, bring the prisoner to his fate. [_Exeunt_ GAZ. _and_ RED. Ere of my charge I will possession take, A bloody sacrifice I mean to make: The manes of my son shall smile this day, While I, in blood, my vows of vengeance pay.

_Enter at one door_ BENZAYDA, _with_ GAZUL; _at the other,_ OZMYN _bound, with_ REDUAN.

_Selin._ I sent, Benzayda, to glad your eyes: These rites we owe your brother's obsequies.-- You two [_To_ GAZ. _and_ RED.] the cursed Abencerrago bind: You need no more to instruct you in my mind. [_They bind him to a corner of the stage._

_Benz._ In what sad object am I called to share? Tell me, what is it, sir, you here prepare?

_Selin._ 'Tis what your dying brother did bequeath; A scene of vengeance, and a pomp of death!

_Benz._ The horrid spectacle my soul does fright: I want the heart to see the dismal sight.

_Selin._ You are my principal invited guest, Whose eyes I would not only feed, but feast: You are to smile at his last groaning breath, And laugh to see his eye-balls roll in death; To judge the lingering soul's convulsive strife, When thick short breath catches at parting life.

_Benz._ And of what marble do you think me made?

_Selin._ What! can you be of just revenge afraid?

_Benz._ He killed my brother in his own defence. Pity his youth, and spare his innocence.

_Selin._ Art thou so soon to pardon murder won? Can he be innocent, who killed my son? Abenamar shall mourn as well as I; His Ozmyn, for my Tarifa, shall die. But since thou plead'st so boldly, I will see That justice, thou would'st hinder, done by thee. Here, [_Gives her his sword._] take the sword, and do a sister's part: Pierce his, fond girl, or I will pierce thy heart.

_Ozm._ To his commands I join my own request; All wounds from you are welcome to my breast: Think only, when your hand this act has done, It has but finished what your eyes begun. I thought, with silence, to have scorned my doom; But now your noble pity has o'ercome; Which I acknowledge with my latest breath,-- The first whoe'er began a love in death.

_Benz._ to _Selin._ Alas, what aid can my weak hand afford? You see I tremble when I touch a sword: The brightness dazzles me, and turns my sight; Or, if I look, 'tis but to aim less right.

_Ozm._ I'll guide the hand which must my death convey; My leaping heart shall meet it half the way.

_Selin_ to _Benz._ Waste not the precious time in idle breath.

_Benz._ Let me resign this instrument of death. [_Giving the sword to her father, and then pulling it back._ Ah, no! I was too hasty to resign: 'Tis in your hand more mortal than in mine.

_Enter_ HAMET.

_Hamet._ The king is from the Alhambra beaten back, And now preparing for a new attack; To favour which, he wills, that instantly You reinforce him with a new supply.

_Selin_ to _Benz._ Think not, although my duty calls me hence, That with the breach of yours I will dispense. Ere my return, see my commands you do: Let me find Ozmyn dead, and killed by you.-- Gazul and Reduan, attend her still; And, if she dares to fail, perform my will. [_Exeunt_ SELIN _and_ HAMET. [BENZAYDA _looks languishing on him, with her sword down_; GAZUL _and_ REDUAN _standing with drawn swords by her._

_Ozm._ Defer not, fair Benzayda, my death: Looking on you, I should but live to sigh away my breath. My eyes have done the work they had to do: I take your image with me, which they drew; And, when they close, I shall die full of you.

_Benz._ When parents their commands unjustly lay, Children are privileged to disobey; Yet from that breach of duty I am clear, Since I submit the penalty to bear. To die, or kill you, is the alternative; Rather than take your life, I will not live.

_Ozm._ This shows the excess of generosity; But, madam, you have no pretence to die. I should defame the Abencerrages race, To let a lady suffer in my place. But neither could that life, you would bestow, Save mine; nor do you so much pity owe To me, a stranger, and your house's foe.

_Benz._ From whencesoe'er their hate our houses drew, I blush to tell you, I have none for you. 'Tis a confession which I should not make, Had I more time to give, or you to take: But, since death's near, and runs with so much force, We must meet first, and intercept his course.

_Ozm._ Oh, how unkind a comfort do you give! Now I fear death again, and wish to live. Life were worth taking, could I have it now; But 'tis more good than heaven can e'er allow To one man's portion, to have life and you.

_Benz._ Sure, at our births, Death with our meeting planets danced above, Or we were wounded by a mourning love!-- [_Shouts within._

_Red._ The noise returns, and doubles from behind; It seems as if two adverse armies joined.-- Time presses us.

_Gaz._ If longer you delay, We must, though loth, your father's will obey.

_Ozm._ Haste, madam, to fulfil his hard commands. And rescue me from their ignoble hands. Let me kiss yours, when you my wound begin, Then easy death will slide with pleasure in.

_Benz._ Ah, gentle soldiers, some short time allow! [_To_ GAZ. _and_ RED. My father has repented him ere now; Or will repent him, when he finds me dead. My clue of life is twined with Ozmyn's thread.

_Red._ 'Tis fatal to refuse her, or obey.-- But where is our excuse? what can we say?

_Benz._ Say any thing. Say, that to kill the guiltless you were loth; Or if you did, say, I would kill you both.

_Gaz._ To disobey our orders is to die.-- I'll do't,--who dares oppose it?

_Red._ That dare I. [REDUAN _stands before_ OZMYN, _and fights with_ GAZUL. BENZAYDA _unbinds_ OZMYN, _and gives him her sword._

_Benz._ Stay not to see the issue of the fight; [RED. _kills_ GAZ. But haste to save yourself by speedy flight. [OZMYN _kneels to kiss her hand._

_Ozm._ Did all mankind against my life conspire. Without this blessing I would not retire.-- But madam, can I go and leave you here? Your father's anger now for you I fear: Consider you have done too much to stay.

_Benz._ Think not of me, but fly yourself away.

_Red._ Haste quickly hence; the enemies are nigh! From every part I see the soldiers fly. The foes not only our assailants beat, But fiercely sally out on their retreat, And, like a sea broke loose, come on amain.

_Enter_ ABENAMAR, _and a party with their swords drawn, driving in some of the enemies._

_Aben._ Traitors, you hope to save yourselves in vain!-- Your forfeit lives shall for your treason pay; And Ozmyn's blood shall be revenged this day.

_Ozm._ No, sir, your Ozmyn lives; and lives to own [_Kneeling to his father._ A father's piety to free his son.

_Aben._ My Ozmyn!--O, thou blessing of my age! [_Embracing him._ And art thou safe from their deluded rage!-- Whom must I praise for thy deliverance? Was it thy valour, or the work of chance?

_Ozm._ Nor chance, nor valour, could deliver me; But 'twas a noble pity set me free.-- My liberty, and life, And what your happiness you're pleased to call, We to this charming beauty owe it all.

_Aben._ Instruct me, visible divinity!-- [_To her._ Instruct me by what name to worship thee! For to thy virtue I would altars raise, Since thou art much above all human praise. But see,--

_Enter_ ALMANZOR, _his sword bloody, leading in_ ALMAHIDE _attended by_ ESPERANZA.

My other blessing, Almahide, is here!-- I'll to the king, and tell him she is near: You, Ozmyn, on your fair deliverer wait, And with your private joys the public celebrate. [_Exeunt_ ABEN. OZM. _and_ BENZ.

_Almanz._ The work is done; now, madam, you are free; At least, if I can give you liberty: But you have chains which you yourself have chose; And, O, that I could free you too from those! But you are free from force, and have full power To go, and kill my hopes and me, this hour.-- I see, then, you will go; but yet my toil May he rewarded with a looking while.

_Almah._ Almanzor can from every subject raise New matter for our wonder and his praise. You bound and freed me; but the difference is, That showed your valour; but your virtue this.

_Almanz._ Madam, you praise a funeral victory, At whose sad pomp the conqueror must die.

_Almah._ Conquest attends Almanzor every where; I am too small a foe for him to fear: But heroes still must be opposed by some, Or they would want occasion to o'ercome.

_Almanz._ Madam, I cannot on bare praises live: Those, who abound in praises, seldom give.

_Almah._ While I to all the world your worth make known, May heaven reward the pity you have shown!

_Almanz._ My love is languishing, and starved to death; And would you give me charity--in breath? Prayers are the alms of churchmen to the poor: They send's to heaven, but drive us from their door.

_Almah._ Cease, cease a suit So vain to you, and troublesome to me, If you will have me think that I am free. If I am yet a slave, my bonds I'll bear; But what I cannot grant, I will not hear.

_Almanz._ You will not hear!--You must both hear and grant; For, madam, there's an impudence in want.

_Almah._ Your way is somewhat strange to ask relief You ask with threatening, like a begging thief.-- Once more, Almanzor, tell me, am I free?

_Almanz._ Madam, you are, from all the world,--but me!-- But as a pirate, when he frees the prize He took from friends, sees the rich merchandize, And, after he has freed it, justly buys; So, when I have restored your liberty-- But then, alas, I am too poor to buy!

_Almah._ Nay, now you use me just as pirates do: You free me; but expect a ransom too.

_Almanz._ You've all the freedom that a prince can have; But greatness cannot be without a slave. A monarch never can in private move, But still is haunted with officious love. So small an inconvenience you may bear; 'Tis all the fine fate sets upon the fair.

_Almah._ Yet princes may retire, whene'er they please, And breathe free air from out their palaces: They go sometimes unknown, to shun their state; And then, 'tis manners not to know or wait.

_Almanz._ If not a subject then, a ghost I'll be; And from a ghost, you know, no place is free. Asleep, awake, I'll haunt you every where; From my white shroud groan love into your ear: When in your lover's arms you sleep at night, I'll glide in cold betwixt, and seize my right: And is't not better, in your nuptial bed, To have a living lover than a dead?

_Almah._ I can no longer bear to be accused, As if what I could grant you, I refused. My father's choice I never will dispute; And he has chosen ere you moved your suit. You know my case; if equal you can be, Plead for yourself, and answer it for me.

_Almanz._ Then, madam, in that hope you bid me live; I ask no more than you may justly give: But in strict justice there may favour be, And may I hope that you have that for me?

_Almah._ Why do you thus my secret thoughts pursue, Which, known, hurt me, and cannot profit you? Your knowledge but new troubles does prepare, Like theirs who curious in their fortunes are. To say, I could with more content be yours, Tempts you to hope; but not that hope assures. For since the king has right, And favoured by my father in his suit, It is a blossom which can bear no fruit. Yet, if you dare attempt so hard a task, May you succeed; you have my leave to ask.

_Almanz._ I can with courage now my hopes pursue, Since I no longer have to combat you. That did the greatest difficulty bring; The rest are small, a father and a king!

_Almah._ Great souls discern not when the leap's too wide, Because they only view the farther side. Whatever you desire, you think is near; But, with more reason, the event I fear.

_Almanz._ No; there is a necessity in fate, Why still the brave bold man is fortunate: He keeps his object ever full in sight, And that assurance holds him firm and right. True, 'tis a narrow path that leads to bliss, But right before there is no precipice: Fear makes men look aside, and then their footing miss.

_Almah._ I do your merit all the right I can; Admiring virtue in a private man: I only wish the king may grateful be, And that my father with my eyes may see. Might I not make it as my last request,-- Since humble carriage suits a suppliant best,-- That you would somewhat of your fierceness hide-- That inborn fire--I do not call it pride?

_Almanz._ Born, as I am, still to command, not sue, Yet you shall see that I can beg for you; And if your father will require a crown, Let him but name the kingdom, 'tis his own. I am, but while I please, a private man; I have that soul which empires first began. From the dull crowd, which every king does lead, I will pick out whom I will chuse to head: The best and bravest souls I can select, And on their conquered necks my throne erect. [_Exeunt._