proof I gave,
When I submitted to be made your slave.

_Boab._ If I have been suspicious or unkind,
Forgive me; many cares distract my mind:
Love, and a crown!
Two such excuses no one man e'er had;
And each of them enough to make me mad:
But now my reason reassumes its throne,
And finds no safety when Almanzor's gone.
Send for him then; I'll be obliged, and sue;
'Tis a less evil than to part with you.
I leave you to your thoughts; but love me still!
Forgive my passion, and obey my will. [_Exit_ BOABDELIN.

ALMAHIDE _solus._

My jealous lord will soon to rage return;
That fire, his fear rakes up, does inward burn.
But heaven, which made me great, has chose for me,
I must the oblation for my people be.
I'll cherish honour, then, and life despise;
What is not pure, is not for sacrifice.
Yet for Almanzor I in secret mourn!
Can virtue, then, admit of his return?
Yes; for my love I will by virtue square;
My heart's not mine, but all my actions are.
I'll like Almanzor act; and dare to be
As haughty, and as wretched too, as he.
What will he think is in my message meant?
I scarcely understand my own intent:
But, silk-worm like, so long within have wrought,
That I am lost in my own web of thought. [_Exit_ ALMAHIDE.

ACT II.

SCENE I.--_A Wood._

_Enter_ OZMYN _and_ BENZAYDA.

_Ozm._ 'Tis true, that our protection here has been
The effect of honour in the Spanish queen;
But, while I as a friend continue here,
I to my country must a foe appear.

_Benz._ Think not, my Ozmyn, that we here remain
As friends, but prisoners to the power of Spain.
Fortune dispenses with your country's right;
But you desert your honour in your flight.

_Ozm._ I cannot leave you here, and go away;
My honour's glad of a pretence to stay.
[_A noise within,_--Follow, follow, follow!--

_Enter_ SELIN, _his sword drawn, as pursued._

_Selin._ I am pursued, and now am spent and done;
My limbs suffice me not with strength to run.
And, if I could, alas! what can I save?
A year, the dregs of life too, from the grave.
[_Sits down on the ground._
Here will I sit, and here attend my fate,
With the same hoary majesty and state,
As Rome's old senate for the Gauls did wait.

_Benz._ It is my father; and he seems distressed.

_Ozm._ My honour bids me succour the oppressed;
That life he sought, for his I'll freely give;
We'll die together, o