_Must._ That's better counsel than you meant it: Yes, I do take her into possession, and into protection too. What say you, masters, will you stand by me? _Omnes._ One and all, one and all. _Bend._ Hast thou betrayed me, traitor?--Mufti, speak, and mind them of religion. [_MUFTI shakes his head._ _Must._ Alas! the poor gentleman has gotten a cold with a sermon of two hours long, and a prayer of fear; and, besides, if he durst speak, mankind is grown wiser at this time of day than to cut one another's throats about religion. Our Mufti's is a green coat, and the Christian's is a black coat; and we must wisely go together by the ears, whether green or black shall sweep our spoils. [_Drums within, and shouts._ _Bend._ Now we shall see whose numbers will prevail: The conquering troops of Muley-Zeydan come, To crush rebellion, and espouse my cause. _Must._ We will have a fair trial of skill for it, I can tell him that. When we have dispatched with Muley-Zeydan, your lordship shall march, in equal proportions of your body, to the four gates of the city, and every tower shall have a quarter of you. [ANTONIO _draws them up, and takes_ ALM. by_ the hand. Shouts again, and Drums._ _Enter_ DORAX _and_ SEBASTIAN, _attended by African Soldiers and Portugueses._ ALMEYDA _and_ SEBASTIAN _run into each others arms, and both speak together._ _Seb._ and _Alm._ My Sebastian! my Almeyda! _Alm._ Do you then live? _Seb._ And live to love thee ever. _Bend._ How! Dorax and Sebastian still alive! The Moors and Christians joined!--I thank thee, prophet. _Dor._ The citadel is ours; and Muley-Zeydan Safe under guard, but as becomes a prince. Lay down your arms; such base plebeian blood Would only stain the brightness of my sword, And blunt it for some nobler work behind. _Must._ I suppose you may put it up without offence to any man here present. For my part, I have been loyal to my sovereign lady, though that villain Benducar, and that hypocrite the Mufti, would have corrupted me; but if those two escape public justice, then I and all my late honest subjects here deserve hanging. _Bend._ [_To_ DOR.] I'm sure I did my part to poison thee, What saint soe'er has soldered thee again: A dose less hot had burst through ribs of iron. _Muf._ Not knowing that, I poisoned him once more, And drenched him with a draught so deadly cold, That, hadst not thou prevented, had congealed The channel of his blood, and froze him dry. _Bend._ Thou interposing fool, to mangle mischief, And think to mend the perfect work of hell!