ent my more entire defeat.
For your own sake in quiet let me go;
Press not too far on a despairing foe:
I may turn back, and armed against you move,
With all the furious train of hopeless love.

_Almah._ Your honour cannot to ill thoughts give way,
And mine can run no hazard by your stay.

_Almanz._ Do you then think I can with patience see
That sovereign good possessed, and not by me?
No; I all day shall languish at the sight,
And rave on what I do not see all night;
My quick imagination will present
The scenes and images of your content.

_Almah._ These are the day-dreams which wild fancy yields,
Empty as shadows are, that fly o'er fields.
Oh, whither would this boundless fancy move!
'Tis but the raging calenture of love.
Like a distracted passenger you stand,
And see, in seas, imaginary land,
Cool groves, and flowery meads; and while you think
To walk, plunge in, and wonder that you sink.

_Almanz._ Love's calenture too well I understand;
But sure your beauty is no fairy-land!
Of your own form a judge you cannot be;
For, glow-worm like, you shine, and do not see.

_Almah._ Can you think this, and would you go away?

_Almanz._ What recompence attends me, if I stay?

_Almah._ You know I am from recompence debarred,
But I will grant your merit a reward;
Your flame's too noble to deserve a cheat,
And I too plain to practise a deceit.
I no return of love can ever make,
But what I ask is for my husband's sake;
He, I confess, has been ungrateful too,
But he and I are ruined if you go:
Your virtue to the hardest proof I bring;--
Unbribed, preserve a mistress and a king.

_Almanz._ I'll stop at nothing that appears so brave:
I'll do't, and now I no reward will have.
You've given my honour such an ample field,
That I may die, but that shall never yield.
Spite of myself I'll stay, fight, love, despair;
And I can do all this, because I dare.
Yet I may own one suit--
That scarf, which, since by you it has been borne,
Is blessed, like relicks which by saints were worn.

_Almah._ Presents like this my virtue durst not make,
But that 'tis given you for my husband's sake. [_Gives the scarf._

_Almanz._ This scarf to honourable rags I'll wear,
As conquering soldiers tattered ensigns bear;
But oh, how much my fortune I despise,
Which gives me conquest, while she love denies! [_Exeunt._

ACT III.

SCENE I.--_The Alhambra._

_Enter_ ALMAHIDE _and_ ESPERANZA.

_Esper._ Affected modesty h