hort, I need not go.
For why should I expose my life, and yours,
For what, you say, a little time assures?

_Abdelm_, My danger in the attempt is very small;
And, if he loves you, yours is none at all.
But, though his ruin be as sure as fate,
Your proof of love to me would come too late.
This trial I in kindness would allow;
'Tis easy; if you love me, show it now.

_Lyndar._ It is because I love you, I refuse;
For all the world my conduct would accuse,
If I should go with him I love away;
And, therefore, in strict virtue, I will stay.

_Abdelm._ You would in vain dissemble love to me;
Through that thin veil your artifice I see.
You would expect the event, and then declare;
But do not, do not drive me to despair:
For, if you now refuse with me to fly,
Rather than love you after this, I'll die;
And, therefore, weigh it well before you speak;
My king is safe, his force within not weak.

_Lyndar._ The counsel, you have given me, may be wise;
But, since the affair is great, I will advise.

_Abdelm._ Then that delay I for denial take. [_Is going._

_Lyndar._ Stay; you too swift an exposition make.
If I should go, since Zulema will stay,
I should my brother to the king betray.

_Abdelm._ There is no fear; but, if there were, I see
You value still your brother more than me.--
Farewell! some ease I in your falsehood find;
It lets a beam in, that will clear my mind:
My former weakness I with shame confess,
And, when I see you next, shall love you less. [_Is going again._

_Lyndar._ Your faithless dealings you may blush to tell: [_Weeping._
This is a maid's reward, who loves too well.-- [_He looks back._
Remember that I drew my latest breath,
In charging your unkindness with my death.

_Abdelm._ [_coming back_]
Have I not answered all you can invent,
Even the least shadow of an argument?

_Lyndar._ You want not cunning what you please to prove,
But my poor heart knows only how to love;
And, finding this, you tyrannize the more:
'Tis plain, some other mistress you adore;
And now, with studied tricks of subtlety,
You come prepared to lay the fault on me. [_Wringing her hands._
But, oh, that I should love so false a man!

_Abdelm._ Hear me, and then disprove it, if you can.

_Lyndar._ I'll hear no more; your breach of faith is plain:
You would with wit your want of love maintain.
But, by my own experience, I can tell,
They, who love truly, cannot argue well.--
Go faithless ma