But, are we foes? Look round, my lord, and see;
Point out that face which is your enemy.
Would you your hand in Selin's blood embrue?
Kill him unarmed, who, armed, shunned killing you?
Am I your foe? Since you detest my line,
That hated name of Zegry I resign:

For you, Benzayda will herself disclaim;
Call me your daughter, and forget my name.
Selin. This virtue would even savages subdue;
And shall it want the power to vanquish you?
Ozm. It has, it has; I read it in his eyes;
'Tis now not anger, 'tis but shame denies;
A shame of error, that great spirits find,
Which keeps down virtue struggling in the mind.
Aben. Yes, I am vanquished! The fierce con-
flict's past,

And shame itself is now o'ercome at last.
'Twas long before my stubborn mind was won;
But, melting once, I on the sudden run;
Nor can I hold my headlong kindness more,
Than I could curb my cruel rage before.

[Runs to BENZ., and embraces her. Benzayda, 'twas your virtue vanquished me; That could alone surmount my cruelty.

[Runs to SELIN, and unbinds him.

Forgive me, Selin, my neglect of

you;

But men, just waking, scarce know what they do.

Ozm. O father!

Benz. Father!

Aben. Dare I own that name!

Speak, speak it often, to remove my shame.

[They all embrace him. O Selin, O my children, let me go! I have more kindness than I yet can show. For my recovery I must shun your sight; Eyes used to darkness cannot bear the light.

[He runs in, they following him,

SCENE II.-The Albayzyn.

Enter ALMANZOR, ABDELMELECH, Soldiers. Almanz. "Tis war again, and I am glad 'tis so; Success shall now by force and courage go. Treaties are but the combat of the brain, Where still the stronger lose, and weaker gain. Abdelm. On this assault, brave sir, which we pre

pare,

Depends the sum and fortune of the war.
Encamped without the fort the Spaniard lies,
And may, in spite of us, send in supplies.
Consider yet, ere we attack the place,
What 'tis to storm it in an army's face.

Almanz. The minds of heroes their own measures are,

They stand exempted from the rules of war.
One loose, one sally of the hero's soul,

Does all the military art controul :

While timorous wit goes round, or fords the shore, He shoots the gulph, and is already o'er;

And, when the enthusiastic fit is spent,

Looks back amazed at what he underwent. [Exeunt.

[An alarum within.

Re-enter ALMANZOR and ABDELMELECH, with their Soldiers.

Abdelm. They fly, they fly; take breath and charge again.

Almanz. Make good your entrance, and bring up

more men.

I feared, brave friend, my aid had been too late. Abdelm. You drew us from the jaws of certain fate.

At my approach,

The gate was open, and the draw-bridge down;
But, when they saw I stood, and came not on,
They charged with fury on my little band,

Who, much o'erpowered, could scarce the shock withstand.

Almanz. Ere night we shall the whole Albayzyn

gain.

But see, the Spaniards march along the plain
To its relief; you, Abdelmelech, go,
And force the rest, while I repulse the foe.

[Exit ALMANZOR.

Enter ABDALLA, and some few Soldiers, who seem

fearful.

Abdal. Turn, cowards, turn! there is no hope in flight;

You yet may live, if you but dare to fight.
Come, you brave few, who only fear to fly,
We're not enough to conquer, but to die.

Abdelm. No, prince, that mean advantage I refuse;

'Tis in your power a nobler fate to choose.
Since we are rivals, honour does command
We should not die, but by each other's hand.
Retire; and, if it prove my destiny [To his men.
To fall, I charge you let the prince go free.

[The Soldiers depart on both sides.

Abdal. O, Abdelmelech, that I knew some way This debt of honour, which I owe, to pay! But fate has left this only means for me, To die, and leave you Lyndaraxa free.

Abdelm. He, who is vanquished and is slain, is blest :

The wretched conqueror can ne'er have rest;
But is reserved a harder fate to prove,
Bound in the fetters of dissembled love.

Abdal. Now thou art base, and I deserve her

more;

Without complaint I will to death adore.

Dar'st thou see faults, and yet dost love pretend? I will even Lyndaraxa's crimes defend.

Abdelm. Maintain her cause, then, better than thy own,

Than thy ill got, and worse defended throne.

Abdelm. Now ask

[They fight, ABDALLA falls,

your life.

Abdal. "Tis gone; that busy thing,

The soul, is packing up, and just on wing,
Like parting swallows, when they seek the spring:
Like them, at its appointed time, it goes,
And flies to countries more unknown than those.

Enter LYNDARAXA hastily, sees them, and is going out again. ABDELMELECH stops her.

Abdelm. No, you shall stay, and see a sacrifice, Not offered by my sword, but by your eyes. From those he first ambitious poison drew, And swelled to empire from the love of Accursed fair!

you,

Thy comet-blaze portends a prince's fate;
And suffering subjects groan beneath thy weight,
Abdal. Cease, rival, cease!

I would have forced you, but it wonnot be;
I beg you now, upbraid her not for me.

You, fairest, to my memory be kind! [To LYNDAR,
Lovers like me your sex will seldom find.
When I usurped a crown for love of you,
I then did more, than, dying, now I do.
I'm still the same as when my love begun;
And, could I now this fate foresee or shun,
Would yet do all I have already done.

[Dies.

[She puts her handkerchief to her eyes,

Abdelm. Weep on, weep on, for it becomes you

now;

These tears you to that love may well allow.
His unrepenting soul, if it could move
Upward in crimes, flew spotted with your love;
And brought contagion to the blessed above.

Lyndar. He's gone, and peace go with a constant mind!

His love deserved I should have been more kind;
But then your love and greater worth I knew :
I was unjust to him, but just to you.

Abdelm. I was his enemy, and rival too,

Yet I some tears to his misfortune owe:

You owe him more; weep then, and join with me; So much is due even to humanity.

Lyndar. Weep for this wretch, whose memory

hate!

Whose folly made us both unfortunate! ·
Weep for this fool, who did my laughter move!
This whining, tedious, heavy lump of love!

Abdelm. Had fortune favoured him, and frowned

on me,

I then had been that heavy fool, not he:
Just this had been my funeral elegy.
Thy arts and falsehood I before did know,
But this last baseness was concealed till now;
And 'twas no more than needful to be known;
I could be cured by such an act alone.

My love, half blasted, yet in time would shoot;
But this last tempest rends it to the root.

Lyndar. These little piques, which now your

anger move,

Will vanish, and are only signs of love.

You've been too fierce; and, at some other time,
I should not with such ease forgive your crime;
But, in a day of public joy like this,

I pardon, and forget whate'er's amiss.