_Almah._ And could you then, O cruelly unkind! So ill reward such tenderness of mind? Could you, denying what our laws afford The meanest subject, on a traitor's word, Unheard, condemn, and suffer me to go To death, and yet no common pity show! _Boab._ Love filled my heart even to the brim before; And then, with too much jealousy, boiled o'er. _Almah._ Be't love or jealousy, 'tis such a crime, That I'm forewarned to trust a second time. Know, then, my prayers to heaven 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 killed by nothing but by you. [_Exit_ ALMAH. _Boab._ Yes; you will spend your life in prayers for me, And yet this hour my hated rival see. She might a husband's jealousy forgive; But she will only for Almanzor live. It is resolved; I will myself provide That vengeance, which my useless laws denied; And, by Almanzor's death, at once remove The rival of my empire, and my love. [_Exit_ BOAB. _Enter_ ALMAHIDE, _led by_ ALMANZOR, _and followed by_ ESPERANZA; _she speaks, entering._ _Almah._ How much, Almanzor, to your aid I owe, Unable to repay, I blush to know; Yet, forced by need, ere 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 labouring beast, no thanks deserve. _Almah._ Yet first your virtue to your succour call, For in this hard command you'll need it all. _Almanz._ I stand prepared; and whatsoe'er 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. _Almanz._ I must confess, [_Starting back._ For this last stroke I did no guard provide; I could suspect no foe was near that side. From winds and thickening clouds we thunder fear, None dread it from that quarter which is clear; 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 said, This hour I have renounced my husband's bed: Judge, then, how much my fame would injured be, If, leaving him, I should a lover see. _Almanz._ If his unkindness have deserved that curse, Must I, for loving well, be punished worse? _Almah._ Neither your love nor merits I compare, But my unspotted name must be my care. _Almanz._ I have this day established its renown. _Almah._ Would you so soon, what you have raised, throw down? _Almanz._ But, madam, is not yours a greater guilt, To ruin him, who has that fabric built? _Almah._ No lover should his mistress' prayers withstand, Yet you contemn my absolute command.