day.

_D. Arcos._ Sir, you shall hear, however you are loth,
That, like a perjured prince, you broke your oath:
To gain your freedom you a contract signed,
By which your crown you to my king resigned,
From thenceforth as his vassal holding it,
And paying tribute such as he thought fit;
Contracting, when your father came to die,
To lay aside all marks of royalty,
And at Purchena privately to live,
Which, in exchange, king Ferdinand did give.

_Boab._ The force used on me made that contract void.

_D. Arcos._ Why have you then its benefits enjoyed?
By it you had not only freedom then,
But, since, had aid of money and of men;
And, when Granada for your uncle held,
You were by us restored, and he expelled.
Since that, in peace we let you reap your grain,
Recalled our troops, that used to beat your plain;
And more--

_Almanz._ Yes, yes, you did, with wonderous care,
Against his rebels prosecute the war,
While he secure in your protection slept;
For him you took, but for yourself you kept.
Thus, as some fawning usurer does feed,
With present sums, the unwary spendthrift's need,
You sold your kindness at a boundless rate,
And then o'erpaid the debt from his estate;
Which, mouldering piecemeal, in your hands did fall,
Till now at last you come to swoop it all.

_D. Arcos._ The wrong you do my king, I cannot bear;
Whose kindness you would odiously compare.--
The estate was his; which yet, since you deny,
He's now content, in his own wrong, to buy.

_Almanz._ And he shall buy it dear! What his he calls,
We will not give one stone from out these walls.

_Boab._ Take this for answer, then,--
Whate'er your arms have conquered of my land,
I will, for peace, resign to Ferdinand.--
To harder terms my mind I cannot bring;
But, as I still have lived, will die a king.

_D. Arcos._ Since thus you have resolved, henceforth prepare
For all the last extremities of war:
My king his hope from heaven's assistance draws.

_Almanz._ The Moors have heaven, and me, to assist their cause.
[_Exit_ ARCOS.

_Enter_ ESPERANZA.

_Esper._ Fair Almahide,
(Who did with weeping eyes these discords see,
And fears the omen may unlucky be,)
Prepares a zambra to be danced this night.
In hope soft pleasures may your minds unite.

_Boab._ My mistress gently chides the fault I made:
But tedious business has my love delayed,--
Business which dares the joys of kings invade.

_Alma