_Muza_. Here, Abdalazis, kings Disguise from other causes; they obtain Beauty by violence, and power by fraud. Treason was his intent: we must admit Whoever come; our numbers are too small For question or selection, and the blood Of Spaniards shall win Spain for us, today. _Abd._ The wicked cannot move from underneath Thy ruling eye. _Muza_. Right!—Julian and Roderigo Are leagued against us, on these terms alone, That Julian’s daughter weds the christian king. [_Egilona_, _turning round_, _and rushing forward_. _Egil._ ’Tis true—and I proclaim— _Abd._ Heaven and earth! Was it not thou, most lovely, most high-souled, Who wishedst us success, and me a crown? [_Opas_, _in astonishment_, _goes abruptly_. _Egil._ I give it—I am Egilona, queen Of that detested man. _Abd._ I touch the hand That chains down fortune to the throne of fate; And will avenge thee; for ’twas thy command, ’Tis Heaven’s—My father! what retards our bliss? Why art thou silent? _Muza_. Inexperienced years Rather would rest on the soft lap, I see, Of pleasure, after the fierce gusts of war. O destiny! that callest me alone, Hapless, to keep the toilsome watch of state; Painful to age, unnatural to youth, Adverse to all society of friends, Equality, and liberty, and ease, The welcome cheer of the unbidden feast, The gay reply, light, sudden, like the leap Of the young forester’s unbended bow; But, above all, to tenderness at home, And sweet security of kind concern Even from those who seem most truly ours. Who would resign all this, to be approach’d, Like a sick infant by a canting nurse, To spread his arms in darkness, and to find One universal hollowness around. Forego, a little while, that bane of peace. Love may be cherished. _Abd._ ’Tis enough: I ask No other boon. _Muza_. Not victory? _Abd._ Farewell, O queen! I will deserve thee; why do tears Silently drop, and slowly, down thy veil? I shall return to worship thee, and soon; Why this affliction? O, that I alone Could raise or could repress it! _Egil._ We depart, Nor interrupt your counsels, nor impede; O may they prosper, whatsoe’er they be, And perfidy soon meet its just reward! The infirm and peaceful Opas—whither gone? _Muza_. Stay, daughter; not for counsel are we met, But to secure our arms from treachery, O’erthrow and stifle base conspiracies, Involve in his own toils our false allie— _Egil._ Author of every woe I have endur’d! Ah sacrilegious man! he vowed to heaven None of his blood should ever mount the throne.