_Boab._ You guess aright; I am oppressed with grief, And 'tis from you that I must seek relief. [_To the company._ Leave us; to sorrow there's a reverence due: Sad kings, like suns eclipsed, withdraw from view. [_The Attendants go off, and chairs are set for the King and Queen._ _Almah._ So, two kind turtles, when a storm is nigh, Look up, and see it gathering in the sky: Each calls his mate, to shelter in the groves, Leaving, in murmur, their unfinished loves: Perched on some drooping branch, they sit alone, And coo, and hearken to each other's moan. _Boab._ Since, Almahide, you seem so kind a wife, [_Taking her by the hand._ What would you do to save a husband's life? _Almah._ When fate calls on that hard necessity, I'll suffer death, rather than you shall die. _Boab._ Suppose your country should in danger be; What would you undertake to set it free? _Almah._ It were too little to resign my breath: My own free hand should give me nobler death. _Boab._ That hand, which would so much for glory do, Must yet do more; for it must kill me too. You must kill me, for that dear country's sake; Or, what's all one, must call Almanzor back. _Almah._ I see to what your speech you now direct; Either my love or virtue you suspect. But know, that, when my person I resigned, I was too noble not to give my mind. No more the shadow of Almanzor fear; I have no room, but for your image, here. _Boab._ This, Almahide, would make me cease to mourn, Were that Almanzor never to return: But now my fearful people mutiny; Their clamours call Almanzor back, not I. Their safety, through my ruin, I pursue; He must return, and must be brought by you. _Almah._ That hour, when I my faith to you did plight, I banished him for ever from my sight. His banishment was to my virtue due; Not that I feared him for myself, but you. My honour had preserved me innocent: But I would, your suspicion to prevent; Which, since I see augmented in your mind, I yet more reason for his exile find. _Boab._ To your entreaties he will yield alone. And on your doom depend my life and throne. No longer, therefore, my desires withstand; Or, if desires prevail not, my command. _Almah._ In his return, too sadly I foresee The effects of your returning jealousy. But your command I prize above my life; 'Tis sacred to a subject and a wife: If I have power, Almanzor shall return. _Boab._ Cursed be that fatal hour when I was born! [_Letting go her hand, and starting up._ You love, you love him; and that love reveal, By your too quick consent to his repeal. My jealousy had but too just a ground; And now you stab into my former wound. _Almah._ This sudden change I do not understand. Have you so soon forgot your own command?