No More Learning

You know my case; if equal you can be,
Plead for yourself, and answer it for me.

_Almanz. _ Then, madam, in that hope you bid me live;
I ask no more than you may justly give:
But in strict justice there may favour be,
And may I hope that you have that for me?

_Almah. _ Why do you thus my secret thoughts pursue,
Which, known, hurt me, and cannot profit you?
Your knowledge but new troubles does prepare,
Like theirs who curious in their fortunes are.
To say, I could with more content be yours,
Tempts you to hope; but not that hope assures.
For since the king has right,
And favoured by my father in his suit,
It is a blossom which can bear no fruit.
Yet, if you dare attempt so hard a task,
May you succeed; you have my leave to ask.

_Almanz. _ I can with courage now my hopes pursue,
Since I no longer have to combat you.
That did the greatest difficulty bring;
The rest are small, a father and a king!

_Almah. _ Great souls discern not when the leap's too wide,
Because they only view the farther side.
Whatever you desire, you think is near;
But, with more reason, the event I fear.

_Almanz. _ No; there is a necessity in fate,
Why still the brave bold man is fortunate:
He keeps his object ever full in sight,
And that assurance holds him firm and right.
True, 'tis a narrow path that leads to bliss,
But right before there is no precipice:
Fear makes men look aside, and then their footing miss.

_Almah. _ I do your merit all the right I can;
Admiring virtue in a private man:
I only wish the king may grateful be,
And that my father with my eyes may see.
Might I not make it as my last request,--
Since humble carriage suits a suppliant best,--
That you would somewhat of your fierceness hide--
That inborn fire--I do not call it pride?

_Almanz. _ Born, as I am, still to command, not sue,
Yet you shall see that I can beg for you;
And if your father will require a crown,
Let him but name the kingdom, 'tis his own.
I am, but while I please, a private man;
I have that soul which empires first began.
From the dull crowd, which every king does lead,
I will pick out whom I will chuse to head:
The best and bravest souls I can select,
And on their conquered necks my throne erect. [_Exeunt. _


ACT V. SCENE I.

ABDALLA _alone, under the walls of the Albayzyn. _

_Abdal. _ While she is mine, I have not yet lost all,
But in her arms shall have a gentle fall:
Blest in my love, although in war o'ercome,
I fly, like Antony from Actium,
To meet a better Cleopatra here. --
You of the watch! you of the watch! appear.

_Sold. _ [_above. _] Who calls below? What's your demand?

_Abdal. _ 'Tis I:
Open the gate with speed; the foe is nigh.

_Sold. _ What orders for admittance do you bring?

_Abdal. _ Slave, my own orders; look, and know the king.

_Sold. _ I know you; but my charge is so severe,
That none, without exception, enter here.

_Abdal. _ Traitor, and rebel! thou shalt shortly see
Thy orders are not to extend to me.

_Lyndar. _ [_above. _] What saucy slave so rudely does exclaim,
And brands my subject with a rebel's name?

_Abdal. _ Dear Lyndaraxa, haste; the foes pursue.

_Lyndar. _ My lord, the Prince Abdalla, is it you?
I scarcely can believe the words I hear;
Could you so coarsely treat my officer?

_Abdal. _ He forced me; but the danger nearer draws:
When I am entered, you shall know the cause.

_Lyndar. _ Entered! Why, have you any business here?

_Abdal. _ I am pursued, the enemy is near.

_Lyndar. _ Are you pursued, and do you thus delay
To save yourself? Make haste, my lord, away.

_Abdal. _ Give me not cause to think you mock my grief:
What place have I, but this, for my relief?

_Lyndar. _ This favour does your handmaid much oblige,
But we are not provided for a siege:
My subjects few; and their provision thin;
The foe is strong without, we weak within.
This to my noble lord may seem unkind,
But he will weigh it in his princely mind;
And pardon her, who does assurance want
So much, she blushes when she cannot grant.

_Abdal. _ Yes, you may blush; and you have cause to weep.
Is this the faith you promised me to keep?
Ah yet, if to a lover you will bring
No succour, give your succour to a king.

_Lyndar. _ A king is he, whom nothing can withstand;
Who men and money can with ease command.
A king is he, whom fortune still does bless;
He is a king, who does a crown possess.
If you would have me think that you are he,
Produce to view your marks of sovereignty;
But if yourself alone for proof you bring,
You are but a single person, not a king.

_Abdal. _ Ungrateful maid, did I for this rebel?
I say no more; but I have loved too well.

_Lyndar. _ Who but yourself did that rebellion move:
Did I e'er promise to receive your love?
Is it my fault you are not fortunate?
I love a king, but a poor rebel hate.

_Abdal. _ Who follow fortune, still are in the right;
But let me be protected here this night.

_Lyndar. _ The place to-morrow will be circled round;
And then no way will for your flight be found.

_Abdal. _ I hear my enemies just coming on; [_Trampling within. _
Protect me but one hour, till they are gone.

_Lyndar. _ They'll know you have been here; it cannot be;
That very hour you stay, will ruin me:
For if the foe behold our interview,
I shall be thought a rebel too, like you.
Haste hence; and, that your flight may prosperous prove,
I'll recommend you to the powers above. [_Exit_ LYND. _from above. _

_Abdal. _ She's gone: Ah, faithless and ungrateful maid! --
I hear some tread; and fear I am betrayed.
I'll to the Spanish king; and try if he,
To countenance his own right, will succour me:
There is more faith in Christian dogs, than thee. [_Exit. _

_Enter_ OZMYN, BENZAYDA, _and_ ABENAMAR.

_Benz. _ I wish
(To merit all these thanks) I could have said,
My pity only did his virtue aid;
'Twas pity, but 'twas of a love-sick maid.
His manly suffering my esteem did move;
That bred compassion, and compassion love.

_Ozm. _ O blessing sold me at too cheap a rate!
My danger was the benefit of fate. [_To his father. _
But that you may my fair deliverer know,
She was not only born our house's foe,
But to my death by powerful reasons led;
At least, in justice, she might wish me dead.

_Aben. _ But why thus long do you her name conceal?

_Ozm. _ To gain belief for what I now reveal:
Even thus prepared, you scarce can think it true,
The saver of my life from Selin drew
Her birth; and was his sister whom I slew.

_Aben. _ No more; it cannot, was not, must not be:
Upon my blessing, say not it was she.
The daughter of the only man I hate!
Two contradictions twisted in a fate!

_Ozm. _ The mutual hate, which you and Selin bore,
Does but exalt her generous pity more.
Could she a brother's death forgive to me,
And cannot you forget her family?
Can you so ill requite the life I owe,
To reckon her, who gave it, still your foe?
It lends too great a lustre to her line,
To let her virtue ours so much out-shine.

_Aben. _ Thou gav'st her line the advantage which they have,
By meanly taking of the life they gave.
Grant that it did in her a pity shew;
But would my son be pitied by a foe?
She has the glory of thy act defaced:
Thou kill'dst her brother; but she triumphs last:
Poorly for us our enmity would cease;
When we are beaten, we receive a peace.

_Benz. _ If that be all in which you disagree,
I must confess 'twas Ozmyn conquered me.
Had I beheld him basely beg his life,
I should not now submit to be his wife;
But when I saw his courage death controul,
I paid a secret homage to his soul;
And thought my cruel father much to blame,
Since Ozmyn's virtue his revenge did shame.

_Aben. _ What constancy can'st thou e'er hope to find
In that unstable, and soon conquered mind?
What piety can'st thou expect from her,
Who could forgive a brother's murderer?
Or, what obedience hop'st thou to be paid,
From one who first her father disobeyed?

_Ozm. _ Nature, that bids us parents to obey,
Bids parents their commands by reason weigh;
And you her virtue by your praise did own,
Before you knew by whom the act was done.

_Aben. _ Your reasons speak too much of insolence;
Her birth's a crime past pardon or defence.
Know, that as Selin was not won by thee,
Neither will I by Selin's daughter be.
Leave her, or cease henceforth to be my son:
This is my will; and this I will have done. [_Exit_ ABEN.

_Ozm. _ It is a murdering will,
That whirls along with an impetuous sway,
And, like chain-shot, sweeps all things in its way.
He does my honour want of duty call;
To that, and love, he has no right at all.

_Benz. _ No, Ozmyn, no; it is a much less ill
To leave me, than dispute a father's will:
If I had any title to your love,
Your father's greater right does mine remove:
Your vows and faith I give you back again,
Since neither can be kept without a sin.

_Ozm. _ Nothing but death my vows can give me back:
They are not yours to give, nor mine to take.

_Benz. _ Nay, think not, though I could your vows resign,
My love or virtue could dispense with mine.
I would extinguish your unlucky fire,
To make you happy in some new desire:
I can preserve enough for me and you,
And love, and be unfortunate, for two.

_Ozm. _ In all that's good and great
You vanquish me so fast, that in the end
I shall have nothing left me to defend.
From every post you force me to remove;
But let me keep my last entrenchment, love.

_Benz. _ Love then, my Ozmyn; I will be content [_Giving 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 fiery, and too great to guide:
He moves excentric, like a wandering star,
Whose motion's just, though 'tis not regular.

_Boab. _ It is for you, brave man, and only you,
Greatly to speak, and yet more greatly do.
But, if your benefits too far extend,
I must be left ungrateful in the end:
Yet somewhat I would pay,
Before my debts above all reckoning grow,
To keep me from the shame of what I owe.
But you
Are conscious to yourself of such desert,
That of your gift I fear to offer part.

_Almanz.
_ When I shall have declared my high request,
So much presumption there will be confest,
That you will find your gifts I do not shun;
But rather much o'er-rate the service done.

_Boab. _ Give wing to your desires, and let 'em fly,
Secure they cannot mount a pitch too high.
So bless me, Alha, both in peace and war,
As I accord, whate'er your wishes are.

_Almanz. _ Emboldened by the promise of a prince,
[_Putting one knee to the ground. _
I ask this lady now with confidence.

_Boab. _ You ask the only thing I cannot grant.
[_The King and_ ABENAMAR _look amazedly on
each other. _
But, as a stranger, you are ignorant
Of what by public fame my subjects know;
She is my mistress.

_Aben. _ --And my daughter too.

_Almanz. _ Believe, old man, that I her father knew:
What else should make Almanzor kneel to you? --
Nor doubt, sir, but your right to her was known:
For had you had no claim but love alone,
I could produce a better of my own.

_Almah. _ [_softly to him. _]
Almanzor, you forget my last request:
Your words have too much haughtiness expressed.
Is this the humble way you were to move?

_Almanz. _ [_to her. _]
I was too far transported by my love.
Forgive me; for I had not learned to sue
To any thing before, but heaven and you. --
Sir, at your feet, I make it my request-- [_To the King. _
[_First line kneeling: second, rising, and boldly. _
Though, without boasting, I deserve her best;
For you her love with gaudy titles sought,
But I her heart with blood and dangers bought.

_Boab. _ The blood, which you have shed in her defence,
Shall have in time a fitting recompence:
Or, if you think your services delayed,
Name but your price, and you shall soon be paid.

_Almanz. _ My price! --why, king, you do not think you deal
With one who sets his services to sale?
Reserve your gifts for those who gifts regard;
And know, I think myself above reward.

_Boab. _ Then sure you are some godhead; and our care
Must be to come with incense and with prayer.

_Almanz. _ As little as you think yourself obliged,
You would be glad to do't, when next besieged.
But I am pleased there should be nothing due;
For what I did was for myself, not you.

_Boab. _ You with contempt on meaner gifts look down;
And, aiming at my queen, disdain my crown.
That crown, restored, deserves no recompence.
Since you would rob the fairest jewel thence.
Dare not henceforth ungrateful me to call;
Whate'er I owed you, this has cancelled all.

_Almanz. _ I'll call thee thankless, king, and perjured both:
Thou swor'st by Alha, and hast broke thy oath.
But thou dost well; thou tak'st the cheapest way;
Not to own services thou canst not pay.

_Boab. _ My patience more than pays thy service past;
But now this insolence shall be thy last.
Hence from my sight! and take it as a grace,
Thou liv'st, and art but banished from the place.

_Almanz. _ Where'er I go, there can no exile be;
But from Almanzor's sight I banish thee:
I will not now, if thou wouldst beg me, stay;
But I will take my Almahide away.
Stay thou with all thy subjects here; but know,
We leave thy city empty when we go. [_Takes_ ALMAHIDE'S _hand. _

_Boab. _ Fall on; take; kill the traitor.
[_The Guards fall on him; he makes at the King
through the midst of them, and falls upon
him; they disarm him, and rescue the King. _

_Almanz. _ --Base and poor,
Blush that thou art Almanzor's conqueror.
[ALMAHIDE _wrings her hands, then turns and
veils her face. _
Farewell, my Almahide!
Life of itself will go, now thou art gone,
Like flies in winter, when they lose the sun.
[ABENAMAR _whispers the King a little, then
speaks aloud. _

_Aben. _ Revenge, and taken so secure a way,
Are blessings which heaven sends not every day.

_Boab. _ I will at leisure now revenge my wrong;
And, traitor, thou shalt feel my vengeance long:
Thou shalt not die just at thy own desire,
But see my nuptials, and with rage expire.

_Almanz. _ Thou darest not marry her while I'm in sight:
With a bent brow thy priest and thee I'll fright;
And in that scene,
Which all thy hopes and wishes should content,
The thought of me shall make thee impotent.
[_He is led off by Guards. _

_Boab. _ As some fair tulip, by a storm oppressed, [_To_ ALMAH.
Shrinks up, and folds its silken arms to rest;
And, bending to the blast, all pale and dead,
Hears, from within, the wind sing round its head,--
So, shrouded up, your beauty disappears:
Unveil, my love, and lay aside your fears.
The storm, that caused your fright, is passed and done.
[ALMAHIDE _unveiling, and looking round for_
ALMANZOR.

_Almah. _ So flowers peep out too soon, and miss the sun.
[_Turning from him. _

_Boab. _ What mystery in this strange behaviour lies?

_Almah. _ Let me for ever hide these guilty eyes,
Which lighted my Almanzor to his tomb;
Or, let them blaze, to show me there a room.

_Boab. _ Heaven lent their lustre for a nobler end;
A thousand torches must their light attend,
To lead you to a temple and a crown.
Why does my fairest Almahide frown?
Am I less pleasing then I was before,
Or, is the insolent Almanzor more?

_Almah. _ I justly own that I some pity have,
Not for the insolent, but for the brave.

_Aben. _ Though to your king your duty you neglect,
Know, Almahide, I look for more respect:
And, if a parent's charge your mind can move,
Receive the blessing of a monarch's love.

_Almah. _ Did he my freedom to his life prefer,
And shall I wed Almanzor's murderer?
No, sir; I cannot to your will submit;
Your way's too rugged for my tender feet.

_Aben. _ You must be driven where you refuse to go;
And taught, by force, your happiness to know.

_Almah. _ To force me, sir, is much unworthy you,
[_Smiling scornfully. _
And, when you would, impossible to do.
If force could bend me, you might think, with shame,
That I debase the blood from whence I came.
My soul is soft, which you may gently lay
In your loose palm; but, when 'tis pressed to stay,
Like water, it deludes your grasp, and slips away.

_Boab. _ I find I must revoke what I decreed:
Almanzor's death my nuptials must precede.
Love is a magic which the lover ties;
But charms still end when the magician dies.
Go; let me hear my hated rival's dead; [_To his Guard. _
And, to convince my eyes, bring back his head.

_Almah. _ Go on: I wish no other way to prove
That I am worthy of Almanzor's love.
We will in death, at least, united be:
I'll shew you I can die as well as he.

_Boab. _ What should I do! when equally I dread
Almanzor living and Almanzor dead! --
Yet, by your promise, you are mine alone.

_Almah. _ How dare you claim my faith, and break your own?

_Aben. _ This for your virtue is a weak defence:
No second vows can with your first dispense.
Yet, since the king did to Almanzor swear,
And in his death ungrateful may appear,
He ought, in justice, first to spare his life,
And then to claim your promise as his wife.

_Almah. _ Whate'er my secret inclinations be,
To this, since honour ties me, I agree:
Yet I declare, and to the world will own,
That, far from seeking, I would shun the throne.
And with Almanzor lead a humble life:
There is a private greatness in his wife.

_Boab. _ That little love I have, I hardly buy;
You give my rival all, while you deny:
Yet, Almahide, to let you see your power,
Your loved Almanzor shall be free this hour.
You are obeyed; but 'tis so great a grace,
That I could wish me in my rival's place.
[_Exeunt_ KING _and_ ABENAMAR.

_Almah. _ How blessed was I before this fatal day,
When all I knew of love, was to obey!
'Twas life becalmed, without a gentle breath;
Though not so cold, yet motionless as death.
A heavy quiet state; but love, all strife,
All rapid, is the hurricane of life.
Had love not shewn me, I had never seen
An excellence beyond Boabdelin.
I had not, aiming higher, lost my rest;
But with a vulgar good been dully blest:
But, in Almanzor, having seen what's rare,
Now I have learnt too sharply to compare;
And, like a favourite quickly in disgrace,
Just knew the value ere I lost the place.

_To her_ ALMANZOR, _bound and guarded. _

_Almanz. _ I see the end for which I'm hither sent,
To double, by your sight, my punishment.
There is a shame in bonds I cannot bear;
Far more than death, to meet your eyes I fear.

_Almah. _ That shame of long continuance shall not be:
[_Unbinding him. _
The king, at my entreaty, sets you free.

_Almanz. _ The king! my wonder's greater than before;
How did he dare my freedom to restore?
He like some captive lion uses me;
He runs away before he sets me free,
And takes a sanctuary in his court:
I'll rather lose my life than thank him for't.

_Almah. _ If any subject for your thanks there be,
The king expects them not, you owe them me.
Our freedoms through each other's hands have past;
You give me my revenge in winning last.

_Almanz. _ Then fate commodiously for me has done;
To lose mine there where I would have it won.

_Almah. _ Almanzor, you too soon will understand,
That what I win is on another's hand.
The king (who doomed you to a cruel fate)
Gave to my prayers both his revenge and hate;
But at no other price would rate your life,
Than my consent and oath to be his wife.

_Almanz. _ Would you, to save my life, my love betray?
Here; take me; bind me; carry me away;
Kill me! I'll kill you if you disobey. [_To the Guards. _

_Almah. _ That absolute command your love does give,
I take, and charge you by that power to live.

_Almanz. _ When death, the last of comforts, you refuse,
Your power, like heaven upon the damned, you use;
You force me in my being to remain,
To make me last, and keep me fresh for pain.
When all my joys are gone,
What cause can I for living longer give,
But a dull, lazy habitude to live?

_Almah. _ Rash men, like you, and impotent of will,
Give chance no time to turn, but urge her still;
She would repent; you push the quarrel on,
And once because she went, she must be gone.

_Almanz. _ She shall not turn; what is it she can do,
To recompense me for the loss of you?

_Almah_, Heaven will reward your worth some better way:
At least, for me, you have but lost one day.
Nor is't a real loss which you deplore;
You sought a heart that was engaged before.
'Twas a swift love which took you in his way;
Flew only through your heart, but made no stay:
'Twas but a dream, where truth had not a place;
A scene of fancy, moved so swift a pace,
And shifted, that you can but think it was;--
Let then, the short vexatious vision pass.

_Almanz. _ My joys, indeed, are dreams; but not my pain:
'Twas a swift ruin, but the marks remain.
When some fierce fire lays goodly buildings waste,
Would you conclude
There had been none, because the burning's past?

_Almah. _ It was your fault that fire seized all your breast;
You should have blown up some to save the rest:
But 'tis, at worst, but so consumed by fire,
As cities are, that by their fall rise higher.
Build love a nobler temple in my place;
You'll find the fire has but enlarged your space.

_Almanz. _ Love has undone me; I am grown so poor,
I sadly view the ground I had before,
But want a stock, and ne'er can build it more.

_Almah. _ Then say what charity I can allow;
I would contribute if I knew but how.
Take friendship; or, if that too small appear,
Take love,--which sisters may to brothers bear.

_Almanz. _ A sister's love! that is so palled a thing,
What pleasure can it to a lover bring?
'Tis like thin food to men in fevers spent;
Just keeps alive, but gives no nourishment.
What hopes, what fears, what transports can it move?
'Tis but the ghost of a departed love.

_Almah. _ You, like some greedy cormorant, devour
All my whole life can give you in an hour.
What more I can do for you is to die,
And that must follow, if you this deny.
Since I gave up my love, that you might live,
You, in refusing life, my sentence give.

_Almanz. _ Far from my breast be such an impious thought!
Your death would lose the quiet mine had sought.
I'll live for you, in spite of misery;
But you shall grant that I had rather die.
I'll be so wretched, filled with such despair,
That you shall see, to live was more to dare.

_Almah. _ Adieu, then, O my soul's far better part!
Your image sticks so close,
That the blood follows from my rending heart.
A last farewell!
For, since a last must come, the rest are vain,
Like gasps in death, which but prolong our pain.
But, since the king is now a part of me,
Cease from henceforth to be his enemy.
Go now, for pity go! for, if you stay,
I fear I shall have something still to say.
Thus--I for ever shut you from my sight.