m never at rest,
When from my eyes Phyllis is gone.
Sometimes a sad dream does delude my sad mind;
But, alas! when I wake, and no Phyllis I find,
How I sigh to myself all alone!_

III.

_Should a king be my rival in her I adore,
He should offer his treasure in vain:
O, let me alone to be happy and poor,
And give me my Phyllis again!
Let Phyllis be mine, and but ever be kind,
I could to a desart with her be confined,
And envy no monarch his reign._

IV.

_Alas! I discover too much of my love,
And she too well knows her own power!
She makes me each day a new martyrdom prove,
And makes me grow jealous each hour:
But let her each minute torment my poor mind,
I had rather love Phyllis, both false and unkind.
Than ever be freed from her power._

_Enter_ ABDALLA, _with guards._

_Abdal._ Now, madam, at your feet a king you see;
Or, rather, if you please, a sceptered slave:
'Tis just you should possess the power you gave.
Had love not made me yours, I yet had been
But the first subject to Boabdelin.
Thus heaven declares the crown I bring your due;
And had forgot my title, but for you.

_Lyndar._ Heaven to your merits will, I hope, be kind;
But, sir, it has not yet declared its mind.
'Tis true, it holds the crown above your head;
But does not fix it 'till your brother's dead.

_Abdal._ All, but the Alhambra, is within my power;
And that my forces go to take this hour.

_Lyndar._ When, with its keys, your brother's head you bring,
I shall believe you are indeed a king.

_Abdal._ But since the events of all things doubtful are,
And, of events, most doubtful those of war;
I beg to know before, if fortune frown,
Must I then lose your favour with my crown?

_Lyndar._ You'll soon return a conqueror again;
And, therefore, sir, your question is in vain.

_Abdul._ I think to certain victory I move;
But you may more assure it, by your love.
That grant will make my arms invincible.

_Lyndar._ My prayers and wishes your success foretell.--
Go then, and fight, and think you fight for me;
I wait but to reward your victory.

_Abdal._ But if I lose it, must I lose you too?

_Lyndar._ You are too curious, if you more would know.
I know not what my future thoughts will be:
Poor women's thoughts are all _extempore_.
Wise men, indeed,
Beforehand a long chain of thoughts produce;
But ours are only for our present use.

_Abdal._ Those thoughts, yo