storm it in an army's face.

_Almanz._ The minds of heroes their own measures are,
They stand exempted from the rules of war.
One loose, one sally of the hero's soul,
Does all the military art controul;
While timorous wit goes round, or fords the shore,
He shoots the gulph, and is already o'er;
And, when the enthusiastic fit is spent,
Looks back amazed at what he underwent. [_Exeunt._
[_An alarum within._

_Re-enter_ ALMANZOR _and_ ABDELMELECH, _with their Soldiers._

_Abdelm._ They fly, they fly; take breath and charge again.

_Almanz._ Make good your entrance, and bring up more men.
I feared, brave friend, my aid had been too late.

_Abdelm._ You drew us from the jaws of certain fate.
At my approach,
The gate was open, and the draw-bridge down;
But, when they saw I stood, and came not on,
They charged with fury on my little band,
Who, much o'erpowered, could scarce the shock withstand.

_Almanz._ Ere night we shall the whole Albayzyn gain.
But see, the Spaniards march along the plain
To its relief; you, Abdelmelech, go,
And force the rest, while I repulse the foe. [_Exit_ ALMANZOR.

_Enter_ ABDALLA, _and some few Soldiers, who seem fearful._

_Abdal._ Turn cowards, turn! there is no hope in flight;
You yet may live, if you but dare to fight.
Come, you brave few, who only fear to fly,
We're not enough to conquer, but to die.

_Abdelm._ No, prince, that mean advantage I refuse;
'Tis in your power a nobler fate to choose.
Since we are rivals, honour does command
We should not die, but by each other's hand.
Retire; and, if it prove my destiny [_To his men._
To fall, I charge you let the prince go free.
[_The Soldiers depart on both sides._

_Abdal._ O, Abdelmelech, that I knew some way
This debt of honour, which I owe, to pay!
But fate has left this only means for me,
To die, and leave you Lyndaraxa free.

_Abdelm._ He, who is vanquished and is slain, is blest;
The wretched conqueror can ne'er have rest;
But is reserved a harder fate to prove.
Bound in the fetters of dissembled love.

_Abdal._ Now thou art base, and I deserve her more;
Without complaint I will to death adore.
Dar'st thou see faults, and yet dost love pretend?
I will even Lyndaraxa's crimes defend.

_Abdelm._ Maintain her cause, then, better than thy own,--
Than thy ill got, and worse defended thron