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28

ACT II.

SCENE I.

FATIMA, ZAIDA, CHARIFA, MEDINA.
Fatima.
Enter again, sweet Zaida, ceremony
Between us should be banish d, wherefore will you
Trouble your self unnecessarily?

Zaida.
Since you will have it so, I'l go no further.

Fatima.
I may assure my self then ere we part,
That Adibar shall have no free admittance
To your society, I have already
Told you, that formerly he loved me;
But now I know that you give laws to him
And I have cause to hope that, if you scorn him,
He may return unto his first subjection.

Zaida.
Fatima, be assur'd that he shall be
Repuls'd, his love will be but troublesome;
But if you love me, forget not to feign
Some kindnes for my brother; I beseech you
For my sake give him cause to hope a little.

Fatima.
Adieu, I promise you that at next meeting
I will receive him better.—
Exit Fatima.


29

SCENE II.

ZAIDA, MEDINA.
ZAIDA.
What think'st thou
Of fair Fatima, and of her request?

Medina.
I think that Adibar is not a person
To be despis'd.

Zaida.
True, but I am too proud
T'accept a heart that hath been conquered
By any other, and would now be mine
Through an inconstancie, but if I durst
To love—

Medina.
Why stop you, Madam?

ZAIDA.
Oh Medina!
I must not speak the rest.

MEDINA.
But I divine it;
You are in love, and I have cause to judge
That it is with Almansor, that fair stranger

ZAIDA.
Who, I in love with him?

MEDINA.
Why not, I pray you,
Is that a crime?

ZAIDA.
Oh do not name that love,
Which is not other but a fair esteem.


30

Medina.
There is so little difference between
Esteem and love, that often times we take them
One for the other, and are so deceiv'd.

Zaida.
I cannot but remember that my brother
In his last voyage did conclude my marriage
In Argier, that he who's design'd to be
My husband, is heer shortly to arrive,
And that my heart ought to reserve it self
Wholy for him. Besides in thy opinion.
Would it not argue a great weaknes in me
To love this stranger, though my brothers friend.
Who hath not been above a moneth among us
And whose desert as yet's unknown unto me?

Medina.
Seeing this Stranger, who's not of the vulgar,
Deserves to be caressed of your brother,
There's reason to believe that he deserves
To be your Lover, and I can't conceive
Why your mouth will conceal the flame which is
So cleerly for him in your eyes and countenance.
As often as he commeth with your brother
To visit you, your looks seem to be fix'd
Wholy one him, and at the same time also
I observ'd often that the stranger ey'd you
With the same ardour.

Zaida.
Prethee, speak in earnest,
Did'st see him to behold me oftentimes?

Medina.
You ask it me with very much impressement:
I do believe in lesse time then an howr,
That you have question'd me upon this point

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More then a hundred times; your curiosity
Gives me a full assurance that his looks
Displease you not, nor wound your modesty

Zaida.
Alas! can one in justice be offended,
To be belov'd?

Medina.
If his love pleaseth you, I think his person
Will please you equally.

Zaida.
I consider him
Without interpreter; but perhaps, he loves
Elsewhere, and I may be unpleasing to him.

Medina.
Madam, although you fain would cover it,
This fond suspition publisheth your flame,
Iealousy alwaies is daughter of love.

Zaida.
vvould it pleas'd Heaven, that he were free, and that
He thought me fair, But I see him come forth
Gomella's house, I'l satisfy my self
In sounding of his soul, upon this bank
I will repose my self, and feign to sleep.

Medina.
VVhat's your design? I cannot comprehend it.

ZAIDA.
VVithdraw, anon thou't understand it better.

SCENE III.

Almansor Zaida.
ALMANSOR.
Gomella is expecting his return

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In visit, heer I may conveniently
Dream of my new love: Heaven! do I not see
Vnder that flourishing shade the beautious subject
Of my sad sufferings? Love in this encounter
Seemeth to flatter me sufficiently;
It is the lovely Zaida without doubt:
How sweetly, and with what tranquility
Doth that fair one repose, whil'st wretched I
Languish with the disease which she procures me?
Surely she cannot hear me now, I may
Speak at this present unto her of love,
And not offend her; but alas! the rigour
Of my sad destiny is great, when I
Presume to speak, I fear that she may hear me.
You that have taught me the true use of sighs,
Dear object of my joy and of my griefs;
Suffer my amorous and silent soul
T'expresse its secret passion before you,
And to complain heer of a thousand evills
Which you have made me suffer, yet unkrown
Vnto your self: and you resplendent sources
Of all my fires, from whence I have deriv'd
Such violent heats, fair charming eyes, the authors
Of my captivity, enjoy the rest,
Which your have taken from me: If I see
The poppies which shut up your lids, be not
Offended that you lose your lights, the Sun
Is subject to the same eclipse, and can
No more then you, dispense himself thereof.

Zaida feigning her self in a dream
ZAID.
Almansor.

Alm.
Sure, she dreams.

ZAIDA.
Oh! rigourous torment!

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To burn, to languish, and not dare to speak it,
Alas!

ALMANSOR.
O Heaven! what heare I?

ZAIDA.
We resent
One and the same heat.

ALMANSOR.
Oh! that it were true!

ZAIDA.
My modesty, excuse me.

ALMANSOR.
O favourable sleep!

ZAIDA.
Cruel constraints!
When shal we be content, when shal our plaints
Have end?

ALMANSOR.
In this great extasie of joy,
All my respects are vain; to give her thanks
I'l kisse her fair hands.—

He kisseth her hands.
ZAIDA.
Hold, insolent; whence doth proceed this boldnes?—

feigning to awake,
ALMANSOR.
What have I done?—
aside.
I came to give you thanks.

ZAIDA.
For what?

Almansor.
Tis for your goodnes.

ZAIDA.
How, I know not:
I'm sure I never gave you any matter
For this acknowledgment, who ever will

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Consult th'apparence of the thing, shal find
That I have much indifference for you;
But though I had lesse, was it fit to trouble
My rest, in making your acknowledgement?

Almanzor.
Excuse my transport, beautious Shepheardesse,
If I had lesse lov'd, I had been lesse guilty;
In this occasion a Wary Lover
Would have expressed little love in shewing
Too much respect; and whatsoer my crime be,
It would be pardoned, if you slept stil;
But, alas! my good fortune is soon chang'd,
I find that you awake but to afflict me,
Your eyes in taking unto them again
Their grace and lustre, take unto them also
At the same time their usual cruelty.
And that most charming hope which I so little
Enjoyed, vanish'd with your sleep.

Zaida.
This is
An ill expression of your self, that word
Of hope gives me astonishment, I never
Gave it, nor took it yet from any person.

Almanzor.
If I might dare to credit your discourse,
At least you had not an aversion for me,
Nothing would be equall to my good fortune,
You would not find my presence trouble some,
I should be used better, I should be
Esteem'd and possibly—

ZAIDA.
Proceed.

ALMANZOR.
I might be
Belov'd.


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ZAIDA.
Belov'd! of whom; if you magine
Of me, you are mistaken.

ALMAZOR.
Notwithstanding
You honored me so much to tell me so:
If I may but believe your voice, I have
Place in your heart, you are my wltnesse and
My judge both at one time; oh disavow not
That favorable sentence, that fair Oracle
Proceding from an adorable mouth,
Those words so full of charms pronounc'd in sleep,
Which promised me blessings so soon vanish'd

ZAIDA.
I dreamt, Almansor, and you are not ignorant
That a dream oftentimes is a deceiver,
And stil a lie.

ALMANSOR.
True, a dream is my glory;
But I have passions which are real truths,
The flame with in mine eyes hath appear'd to you
Too cleer, to be concealed, and the coldnes
Which you expresse unto me, quencheth not
My love, although it ruineth my hope.

ZAIDA.
This love comes very late, and really
I'm troubled at it, you know wel that I
Am otherwise engag'd.

ALMANSOR.
Alas! I cannot
Deny but I have heard say that a Lover
Favoured of Heaven is to come shortly heer
To take you from mine eyes, I know you love him

36

Before you see him, therefore I'le not trouble
Your pleasures, nor his joy: how great soever
His happines be, I do intend to suffer it
VVithout complaining of you, but withall
I doe intend to die. As soon as you
Shall depart hence upon the fatal voyage
Ordained, where your happy mariage
Must be accomplish'd, Know, at the same time,
That you shall see me in my griefs excesse
Depart to go unto the grave, where those
Remains of fire which sparkle in my bosom,
After my death shall still yet warm my ashes.

Zaid:
Fortune doth ow you, Sir, a happier lot

Alm:
My good or evill lot depends on you.
All other favours would be troublesome:
Lastly I do adore you, and not fortune.

Zaida.
What expect you from me in the condition
Wherein I am?

ALMANSOR.
Immortall heats and torments;
I still must love without hope to be loved.

ZAIDA.
Who loves much, may hope to be loved likewise

ALMANSOR.
What may I hope one day for better usage?

ZAIDA.
Consult with your fidelity upon it.

Alm:
Your soul appeareth too insensible
To love.

Zaid:
A constant Lover may do much;
The first refusal ought not to astonish
Any one that hath love enough to give it.

ALMANSOR.
Oh this is plain enough to my glad sense!


37

ZAIDA.
The blood strikes up unto my brow; alas!
I've said too much, and now I blush for shame on't.

Alm:
This glorious confession rendereth me
Too happy and content.

Zaid:
Dreams sometimes are not
VVithout effect; but the Sun hath already
Finished his career, let us go in
Yet further to discourse upon this matter
I fear that troublesome.

SCENE IV.

ADIBAR, ZAIDA, ALMANSOR,
ADIBAR.
Without too much ambition may I hope
The honour to take you by the fair hand
The one is free, may I presume to kisse it?

ZAIDA.
I have no need, Sir, of your services.

ADIBAR.
They may be worth a Strangers, notwithstanding
Your scorn of me.

ZAIDA.
In thinking to oblige me,
You may displease me, by this odd expression.

AdibaR.
The Prophet, who knows how I reverence you,
Knows also how far forth I fear your anger,
And the cares which I take, should well assure you,
That I come heer but for to honour you:

38

May I aside declare a secret to you?
Of some importance?

ZAIDA.
Nothing is so important
As decency, which in th'opinion
Of every one, allowes we not the Liberty
To hear the secrets of such as you are.

ADIBAR.
I desire nothing of you what another
Doth not obtain

ZAIDA.
His discourse pleaseth me,
And yours I hate.

Almansor.
You take an unfit time
To tell your secrets, to the indiscreet
Love seldome is propitious; th incivility
Which your pride doth expresse, is an ill meās
To gain esteem.

Adibar.
I am not heer to take
Lessons from you.

Almansor.
I give them to your equals
To all intents and purposes.

Adibar.
This passion.
Which carries you away, convicteth you,
And doth excuse me of the incivility
Wherewith your errour charged me; a man
Better instructed, to avoid suspition,
Would have retir'd himself out of respect;
You are too grosse; but as you are a Stranger,
I ought to bear a little with your ignorance.

ZAIDA.
You have the faults which you cōdemn in him;

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This Stranger doth oblige me, and you trouble me.

ADIBAR.
Yet you should take away your hand from him—to Zaida.

Almansor.
If she should do it, you would be in danger.

ADIBAR.
In quitting her, you might run to your death.

ALMNASOR.
I respect Zaida, you I do despise.

AdibaR.
If by the same respect I were not stop'd,
In my revenge, your punishment should soon
Follow your insolence.

Zaida quitting, Almansors hand.
ZAIDA.
These hasty motions
Are sorry passtimes for me; by this violence
I know that neither of you doth respect me,
But both offend me.

ALMMANSOR.
Do you take
Your hand from me to answer his desires?
My Rivall will become too proud at this:
Should you affrōt me with design to please him?

Zaida.
By what right also am I bound to give
You satisfaction?

ADIBAR.
Madam, I beseech you,
Vse no constraint to your free inclination
In my behalf, I know which of us two
Pleaseth you best, I yeild to him in fortune,
And perhaps too in merit, his discourse
Is acceptable, mine is hatefull to you;

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Of this truth I cannot be ignorant;
Therefore to th'end I may not trouble you,
I will retire me, my respect for you
Is stronger then the jealousie, wherewith
My amourous soul is justly seised now,
And I will force all my resentiments for you,
Yea evē to hate my self, if you should hate me.
Let here my happy Rivall without trouble
Discourse with you, establish, if you please,
His happines at the expense of mine;
But take this into your consideration
That Adibar, who quits you with regret,
Though the least lov'd, is not the least discreet.

ZAIDA.
VVhere go you Adibar? come back again.

ADIBAR.
My absence will oblige you.

ZAIDA.
No, once more
I say come back again; if you esteem me,
You will return, to take away suspitions
Opposed to my glory, lend me, pray you,
Your hand, and lead me back.—

he gives her his hand.
ALMANSOR.
Oh'! I cannot
Suffer this cruell injury.

Zaida.
Almansor,
Stay I command you, on pain of my hate.

ALMANZOR.
Hear me a word or two,

ZAIDA.
I can't be mov'd.
Reason I hear, and duty is my guide.

Exeunt Zaida and Adibar.

41

SCENE V.

Almanzor.
What unexpected clap of thunder's this,
Which ruineth my joy thus with my hope?
Reason I hear, and duty is my guide;
My constancy, at these words giveth place
To my despair; and duty is my guide
No, cruell Zaida in following Adibar,
Tis Love that guides you: but what! I may be
Too rash in censuring her so; perhaps
She doth enforce herself in quitting me,
And doth prēfer my Rivall here before me,
To take off all suspition of our love.
She loves, she loves me; oh! what say I, fool?
Without doubt she hath left me through contempt.
Love, like to fickle Fortune is inconstant,
His Empire, doth resemble his who doth
Command the sea, where nothing is secure,
To day a calm, to morrow a sad storm,
And every minute, the most fortunate
Vpon that element, may fear a change.
Even in the Port, We often suffer Shipwrack:
These are sad truths, whereof I need not doubt:
But what maketh my Slave so hastily
T'addresse his steps unto me?

SCENE VI.

ALMANSOR, GAZUL.
Almanzor.
Hast thou found
Gomella?


42

GAZVL.
Yes, Sir and I think that he
Advāceth heer with large steps to embrace you

ALMANSOR.
Tis that which my care should prevent.

GAZVL.
Must I
Withdraw whilst you discourse?

ALMANSOR.
Yes, and be sure
Thou fail not to prepare for me a consort
Of Musick.

GAZVL.
How! a consort, Sir, so late?

ALMANSOR.
Go quickly, and without reply.

SCENE VII.

GOMELLA, ALMANSOR.
GOMELLA.
Oh! Sir,
How glad am I to see you heer again?

ALMANSOR.
My joy in seeing you is no lesse great:
But speak we of my mother.

Gomella.
Stay her comming;
To morrow without fail she arrives here
Vnknown.

ALMANSOR.
Vnknown! and why dares she not to be seen?

GOMELLA.
The secret only you must know from her,

ALMANSOR.
Comes not my Sister?


43

GOMELLA.
You must not expect her.

ALMANSOR.
Where is her residence?

GOMELLA.
I cannot tell you.

ALMANSOR.
How's this, Gomella, what can I imagine
In the uncertainty wherein you leave me?
I am astonished at this proceeding;
Your obscure language is a cleer presage
Of a conceal d misfortune: Oh! my Sister
Is dead, I need not doubt it.

GOMELLA.
Her death is not
The evill which should attrist you.

ALMANSOR.
What, is't then
Hapned vnto her?

GOMELLA.
No, but something worse.

ALMANSOR.
That word is not sufficient to cleer me:
Shall I not know why I receiv'd an order
To depart from Tremissa where I was
Brought up, to come with al speed to these quarters,
T addresse my self to you with confidence,
To change my true name of Abencerage
Into that of Almansor, and to have
A care not to reveale my family?

GOMELLA.
Vpon this point I must shut up my mouth:
I'm not allowed to say more unto you.
It is you Mothers absolute injunction,
And request to me; have but patience

44

Vntill to morrow, when you shal be satisfied
From her own mouth; but the Sun, I perceive,
Already groweth pale before the Moon.
Enter into my cot, and take with me
A poor repast.

ALMANSOR.
I doe desire to be
Dispens'd thereof now, if it pleaseth you.

GOMELLA.
VVhere will you go?

ALMANSOR.
Zegry expecteth me
On my engagement at his house to night.

GOMELLA.
Zegry, what say you, what charm doth oblige you
To answer so ill to Abencerage name,
To that debate which for a thousand reasons
Is, between your two houses, as it were,
Hereditary?

ALMANSOR.
A far juster duty
Inviteth me to love him: but for him,
I'd lost my life in Cairo, treacherous enemies
Encompassed me round, and had he not
Succoured me speedily, I had been murthered:
His name, which I knew well without discovering
Mine own, disturb'd my new born amity;
But his, goodnes for me, his cares, his kindnes,
Soon dissipated all those old resentements;
And so in order to the friendship which
Conjoined us, at last we came together
Into this country, where I was oblig'd
By the same frienship to lodge no where else
But at home with him.


45

GOM:
Oh Heaven! but proceed.

Almansor.
You know his Sister: at first sight of her,
I was her servant: by a powerfull charm
VVhose art she only knows, her fair eyes paid
But one look for the purchase of my heart;
And if the God of marriage.—

Gomella.
Soft, hold there.
Take heed you flatter not your self with such
A fatall hope, destroy your passions,
Or you destroy your honour.

Almansor.
How, my honour?

GOMELLA.
Yes, Sir, your honour, what! doth this discourse
Surprise and trouble you?

ALMANSOR.
I fear the name
Of an ingratefull person.

GOMELLA.
Fear that also
Of a low spirited one; these shamefull motiōs
Do wound your duty.

ALMANSOR.
May I know how?

GOMELLA.
To morrow, when you see your Mother here,
You shall be satisfied, in the mean time,
Hate both the Sister, and the brother.

Alm:
Hate them?
I who have been so much oblig'd unto them?
No, no, I swear—

Gom:
Swear not but let us enter;
Your mind will change, when you have heard th'adventure.

The end of the Second Act.