_Aben._ Thou gav'st her line the advantage which they have, By meanly taking of the life they gave. Grant that it did in her a pity shew; But would my son be pitied by a foe? She has the glory of thy act defaced: Thou kill'dst her brother; but she triumphs last: Poorly for us our enmity would cease; When we are beaten, we receive a peace. _Benz._ If that be all in which you disagree, I must confess 'twas Ozmyn conquered me. Had I beheld him basely beg his life, I should not now submit to be his wife; But when I saw his courage death controul, I paid a secret homage to his soul; And thought my cruel father much to blame, Since Ozmyn's virtue his revenge did shame. _Aben._ What constancy can'st thou e'er hope to find In that unstable, and soon conquered mind? What piety can'st thou expect from her, Who could forgive a brother's murderer? Or, what obedience hop'st thou to be paid, From one who first her father disobeyed? _Ozm._ Nature, that bids us parents to obey, Bids parents their commands by reason weigh; And you her virtue by your praise did own, Before you knew by whom the act was done. _Aben._ Your reasons speak too much of insolence; Her birth's a crime past pardon or defence. Know, that as Selin was not won by thee, Neither will I by Selin's daughter be. Leave her, or cease henceforth to be my son: This is my will; and this I will have done. [_Exit_ ABEN. _Ozm._ It is a murdering will, That whirls along with an impetuous sway, And, like chain-shot, sweeps all things in its way. He does my honour want of duty call; To that, and love, he has no right at all. _Benz._ No, Ozmyn, no; it is a much less ill To leave me, than dispute a father's will: If I had any title to your love, Your father's greater right does mine remove: Your vows and faith I give you back again, Since neither can be kept without a sin. _Ozm._ Nothing but death my vows can give me back: They are not yours to give, nor mine to take. _Benz._ Nay, think not, though I could your vows resign, My love or virtue could dispense with mine. I would extinguish your unlucky fire, To make you happy in some new desire: I can preserve enough for me and you, And love, and be unfortunate, for two. _Ozm._ In all that's good and great You vanquish me so fast, that in the end I shall have nothing left me to defend. From every post you force me to remove; But let me keep my last entrenchment, love. _Benz._ Love then, my Ozmyn; I will be content [_Giving her hand._ To make you wretched by your own consent: Live poor, despised, and banished for my sake, And all the burden of my sorrows take; For, as for me, in whatsoe'er estate, While I have you, I must be fortunate. _Ozm._ Thus then, secured of what we hold most dear, (Each other's love) we'll go--I know not where. For where, alas, should we our flight begin? The foe's without; our parents are within.