_Almanz._ I rather, like weak armies, should retreat, And so prevent my more entire defeat. For your own sake in quiet let me go; Press not too far on a despairing foe: I may turn back, and armed against you move, With all the furious train of hopeless love. _Almah._ Your honour cannot to ill thoughts give way, And mine can run no hazard by your stay. _Almanz._ Do you then think I can with patience see That sovereign good possessed, and not by me? No; I all day shall languish at the sight, And rave on what I do not see all night; My quick imagination will present The scenes and images of your content. _Almah._ These are the day-dreams which wild fancy yields, Empty as shadows are, that fly o'er fields. Oh, whither would this boundless fancy move! 'Tis but the raging calenture of love. Like a distracted passenger you stand, And see, in seas, imaginary land, Cool groves, and flowery meads; and while you think To walk, plunge in, and wonder that you sink. _Almanz._ Love's calenture too well I understand; But sure your beauty is no fairy-land! Of your own form a judge you cannot be; For, glow-worm like, you shine, and do not see. _Almah._ Can you think this, and would you go away? _Almanz._ What recompence attends me, if I stay? _Almah._ You know I am from recompence debarred, But I will grant your merit a reward; Your flame's too noble to deserve a cheat, And I too plain to practise a deceit. I no return of love can ever make, But what I ask is for my husband's sake; He, I confess, has been ungrateful too, But he and I are ruined if you go: Your virtue to the hardest proof I bring;-- Unbribed, preserve a mistress and a king. _Almanz._ I'll stop at nothing that appears so brave: I'll do't, and now I no reward will have. You've given my honour such an ample field, That I may die, but that shall never yield. Spite of myself I'll stay, fight, love, despair; And I can do all this, because I dare. Yet I may own one suit-- That scarf, which, since by you it has been borne, Is blessed, like relicks which by saints were worn. _Almah._ Presents like this my virtue durst not make, But that 'tis given you for my husband's sake. [_Gives the scarf._ _Almanz._ This scarf to honourable rags I'll wear, As conquering soldiers tattered ensigns bear; But oh, how much my fortune I despise, Which gives me conquest, while she love denies! [_Exeunt._ ACT III. SCENE I.--_The Alhambra._ _Enter_ ALMAHIDE _and_ ESPERANZA. _Esper._ Affected modesty has much of pride; That scarf he begged, you could not have denied; Nor does it shock the virtue of a wife, When given that man, to whom you owe your life. _Almah._ Heaven knows, from all intent of ill 'twas free, Yet it may feed my husband's jealousy; And for that cause I wish it were not done. _To them_ BOABDELIN, _and walks apart._ See, where he comes, all pensive and alone; A gloomy fury has o'erspread his face: 'Tis so! and all my fears are come to pass.