_Alm_. This but offends me more;
You act your kindness on Cydaria's score.

_Cyd_. For his dear sake let me my life receive.

_Alm_. Fool, for his sake alone you must not live:
Revenge is now my joy; he's not for me,
And I'll make sure he ne'er shall be for thee.

_Cyd_. But what's my crime?

_Alm_. 'Tis loving where I love.

_Cyd_. Your own example does my act approve.

_Alm_. 'Tis such a fault I never can forgive.

_Cyd_. How can I mend, unless you let me live?
I yet am tender, young, and full of fear,
And dare not die, but fain would tarry here.

_Cort_. If blood you seek, I will my own resign:
O spare her life, and in exchange take mine!

_Alm_. The love you shew but hastes her death the more.

_Cort_. I'll run, and help to force the inner door.
[_Is going in haste_.

_Alm_. Stay, Spaniard, stay; depart not from my eyes:
That moment that I lose your sight, she dies.
To look on you, I'll grant a short reprieve.

_Cort_. O make your gift more full, and let her live!
I dare not go; and yet how dare I stay!--
Her I would save, I murder either way.

_Cyd_. Can you be so hard-hearted to destroy
My ripening hopes, that are so near to joy?
I just approach to all I would possess:
Death only stands 'twixt me and happiness.

_Alm_. Your father, with his life, has lost his throne:
Your country's freedom and renown is gone.
Honour requires your death; you must obey.

_Cyd_. Do you die first, and shew me then the way.

_Alm_. Should you not follow, my revenge were lost.

_Cyd_. Then rise again, and fright me with your ghost.

_Alm_. I will not trust to that; since death I chuse,
I'll not leave you that life which I refuse:
If death's a pain, it is not less to me;
And if 'tis nothing, 'tis no more to thee.
But hark! the noise increases from behind;
They're near, and may prevent what I designed;
Take there a rival's gift. [_Stabs her_.

_Cort_. Perdition seize thee for so black a deed.

_Alm_. Blame not an act, which did from love proceed:
I'll thus revenge thee with this fatal blow;
[_Stabs herself_.
Stand fair, and let my heart-blood on thee flow.

_Cyd_. Stay, life, and keep me in the cheerful light!
Death is too black, and dwells in too much night.
Thou leav'st me, life, but love supplies thy part,
And keeps me warm, by lingering in my heart:
Yet dying for him, I thy claim remove;
How dear it costs to conquer in my love!
Now strike: That thought, I hope, will arm my breast.

_Alm_. Ah,