_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?