at jealous sun, but not possest.
He, like a devil, among the blest above,
Can take no pleasure in your heaven of love.
Go, take her; and thy causeless fears remove; [_To the King._
Love her so well, that I with rage may die:
Dull husbands have no right to jealousy:
If that's allowed, it must in lovers be.

_Boab._ The succour, which thou bring'st me, makes thee bold:
But know, without thy aid, my crown I'll hold;
Or, if I cannot, I will fire the place,
Of a full city make a naked space.
Hence, then, and from a rival set me free!
I'll do, I'll suffer any thing but thee.

_Almanz._ I wonnot go; I'll not be forced away:
I came not for thy sake; nor do I stay.
It was the queen who for my aid did send;
And 'tis I only can the queen defend:
I, for her sake, thy sceptre will maintain;
And thou, by me, in spite of thee, shalt reign.

_Boab._ Had I but hope I could defend this place
Three days, thou should'st not live to my disgrace
So small a time;
Might I possess my Almahide alone,
I would live ages out ere they were gone.
I should not be of love or life bereft;
All should be spent before, and nothing left.

_Almah._ [_to_ BOAB.] As for your sake I for Almanzor sent,
So, when you please, he goes to banishment.
You shall, at last, my loyalty approve:
I will refuse no trial of my love.

_Boab._ How can I think you love me, while I see
That trophy of a rival's victory?
I'll tear it from his side.

_Almanz._ I'll hold it fast
As life, and when life's gone, I'll hold this last;
And if thou tak'st it after I am slain,
I'll send my ghost to fetch it back again.

_Almah._ When I bestowed that scarf, I had not thought,
Or not considered it might be a fault;
But, since my lord's displeased that I should make
So small a present, I command it back.
Without delay the unlucky gift restore;
Or, from this minute, never see me more.

_Almanz._ The shock of such a curse I dare not stand:
[_Pulling it off hastily, and presenting it to her._
Thus I obey your absolute command. [_She gives it to the King._
Must he the spoils of scorn'd Almanzor wear?--
May Turnus' fate be thine, who dared to bear
The belt of murdered Pallas! from afar
Mayest thou be known, and be the mark of war!
Live, just to see it from thy shoulders torn
By common hands, and by some coward worn. [_An alarm within._

_Enter_ ABDELMELECH, ZULEMA, HAMET, ABENAMAR; _their swords drawn._

_Abdelm._ Is this a time