_Alferez._ All's lost, and you are fatally deceived: The foe is entered, and the place relieved. Scarce from the walls had I drawn off my men, When, from their camp, the enemy rushed in, And prince Abdalla entered first the gate. _Abdelm._ I am betrayed, and find it now too late. When your proud soul to flatteries did descend, [_To her._ I might have known it did some ill portend. The weary seaman stormy weather fears, When winds shift often, and no cause appears. You by my bounty live-- Your brothers, too, were pardoned for my sake, And this return your gratitude does make. _Lyndar._ My brothers best their own obligement know; Without your charging me with what they owe. But, since you think the obligement is so great, I'll bring a friend to satisfy my debt. [_Looking behind._ _Abdelm._ Thou shalt not triumph in thy base design; Though not thy fort, thy person shall be mine. [_He goes to take her: She runs and cries out help._ _Enter_ ABDALLA, _Duke of_ ARCOS, _and Spaniards._ ABDELMELECH _retreats fighting, and is pursued by the adverse party off the stage. The alarm within._ _Enter again_ ABDALLA _and the Duke of_ ARCOS, _with_ LYNDARAXA. _D. Arcos._ Bold Abdelmelech twice our Spaniards faced, Though much out-numbered; and retreated last. _Abdal._ Your beauty, as it moves no common fire, [_To_ LYNDARAXA. So it no common courage can inspire. As he fought well, so had he prospered too, If, madam, he, like me, had fought for you. _Lyndar._ Fortune, at last, has chosen with my eyes; And, where I would have given it, placed the prize. You see, sir, with what hardship I have kept This precious gage, which in my hands you left. But 'twas the love of you which made me fight, And gave me courage to maintain your right. Now, by experience, you my faith may find, And are to thank me that I seemed unkind. When your malicious fortune doomed your fall, My care restrained you then from losing all; Against your destiny I shut the gate, And gathered up the shipwrecks of your fate; I, like a friend, did even yourself withstand, From throwing all upon a losing hand. _Abdal._ My love makes all your acts unquestioned go, And sets a sovereign stamp on all you do. Your love I will believe with hood-winked eyes;-- In faith, much merit in much blindness lies. But now, to make you great as you are fair, The Spaniards an imperial crown prepare. _Lyndar._ That gift's more welcome, which with you I share. Let us no time in fruitless courtship lose, But sally out upon our frighted foes. No ornaments of power so please my eyes, As purple, which the blood of princes dies. [_Exeunt._ SCENE III.--_The Alhambra._ BOABDELIN, ABENAMAR, ALMAHIDE, _and Guards, &c. The Queen wearing a scarf._