_Lyndar._ A king is he, whom nothing can withstand; Who men and money can with ease command. A king is he, whom fortune still does bless; He is a king, who does a crown possess. If you would have me think that you are he, Produce to view your marks of sovereignty; But if yourself alone for proof you bring, You are but a single person, not a king. _Abdal._ Ungrateful maid, did I for this rebel? I say no more; but I have loved too well. _Lyndar._ Who but yourself did that rebellion move: Did I e'er promise to receive your love? Is it my fault you are not fortunate? I love a king, but a poor rebel hate. _Abdal._ Who follow fortune, still are in the right; But let me be protected here this night. _Lyndar._ The place to-morrow will be circled round; And then no way will for your flight be found. _Abdal._ I hear my enemies just coming on; [_Trampling within._ Protect me but one hour, till they are gone. _Lyndar._ They'll know you have been here; it cannot be; That very hour you stay, will ruin me: For if the foe behold our interview, I shall be thought a rebel too, like you. Haste hence; and, that your flight may prosperous prove, I'll recommend you to the powers above. [_Exit_ LYND. _from above._ _Abdal._ She's gone: Ah, faithless and ungrateful maid!-- I hear some tread; and fear I am betrayed. I'll to the Spanish king; and try if he, To countenance his own right, will succour me: There is more faith in Christian dogs, than thee. [_Exit._ _Enter_ OZMYN, BENZAYDA, _and_ ABENAMAR. _Benz._ I wish (To merit all these thanks) I could have said, My pity only did his virtue aid; 'Twas pity, but 'twas of a love-sick maid. His manly suffering my esteem did move; That bred compassion, and compassion love. _Ozm._ O blessing sold me at too cheap a rate! My danger was the benefit of fate. [_To his father._ But that you may my fair deliverer know, She was not only born our house's foe, But to my death by powerful reasons led; At least, in justice, she might wish me dead. _Aben._ But why thus long do you her name conceal? _Ozm._ To gain belief for what I now reveal: Even thus prepared, you scarce can think it true, The saver of my life from Selin drew Her birth; and was his sister whom I slew. _Aben._ No more; it cannot, was not, must not be: Upon my blessing, say not it was she. The daughter of the only man I hate! Two contradictions twisted in a fate! _Ozm._ The mutual hate, which you and Selin bore, Does but exalt her generous pity more. Could she a brother's death forgive to me, And cannot you forget her family? Can you so ill requite the life I owe, To reckon her, who gave it, still your foe? It lends too great a lustre to her line, To let her virtue ours so much out-shine.