ng her hand._
To make you wretched by your own consent:
Live poor, despised, and banished for my sake,
And all the burden of my sorrows take;
For, as for me, in whatsoe'er estate,
While I have you, I must be fortunate.

_Ozm._ Thus then, secured of what we hold most dear,
(Each other's love) we'll go--I know not where.
For where, alas, should we our flight begin?
The foe's without; our parents are within.

_Benz._ I'll fly to you, and you shall fly to me;
Our flight but to each other's arms shall be.
To providence and chance permit the rest;
Let us but love enough, and we are blest. [_Exeunt._

SCENE II.

_Enter_ BOABDELIN, ABENAMAR, ABDELMELECH, _Guards:_ ZULEMA _and_
HAMET, _Prisoners._

_Abdelm._ They are Lyndaraxa's brothers; for her sake,
Their lives and pardon my request I make.

_Boab._ Then, Zulema and Hamet, live; but know,
Your lives to Abdelmelech's suit you owe.

_Zul._ The grace received so much my hope exceeds,
That words come weak and short to answer deeds.
You've made a venture, sir, and time must shew,
If this great mercy you did well bestow.

_Boab._ You, Abdelmelech, haste before 'tis night,
And close pursue my brother in his flight.
[_Exeunt_ ABDELMELECH, ZULEMA, _and_ HAMET.

_Enter_ ALMANZOR, ALMAHIDE, _and_ ESPERANZA.

But see, with Almahide
The brave Almanzor comes, whose conquering sword
The crown, it once took from me, has restored.
How can I recompence so great desert!

_Almanz._ I bring you, sir, performed in every part,
My promise made; your foes are fled or slain;
Without a rival, absolute you reign.
Yet though, in justice, this enough may be,
It is too little to be done by me:
I beg to go,
Where my own courage and your fortune calls,
To chase these misbelievers from our walls.
I cannot breathe within this narrow space;
My heart's too big, and swells beyond the place.

_Boab._ You can perform, brave warrior, what you please;
Fate listens to your voice, and then decrees.
Now I no longer fear the Spanish powers;
Already we are free, and conquerors.

_Almanz._ Accept, great king, to-morrow, from my hand,
The captive head of conquered Ferdinand.
You shall not only what you lost regain,
But o'er the Biscayan mountains to the main,
Extend your sway, where never Moor did reign.

_Aben._ What, in another, vanity would seem,
Appears but noble confidence in him;
No haughty boasting, but a manly pride;
A soul too fier