e had, with your hopes, been fled.

_Zul._ 'Twas like a fire within a furnace pent:
I smothered it, and kept it long from vent;
But, fed with looks, and blown with sighs so fast,
It broke a passage through my lips at last.

_Hamet._ Where found you confidence your suit to move?
Our broken fortunes are not fit to love.
Well; you declared your love:--What followed then?

_Zul._ She looked as judges do on guilty men,
When big with fate they triumph in their dooms,
And smile before the deadly sentence comes.
Silent I stood, as I were thunder-struck;
Condemned and executed with a look.

_Hamet._ You must, with haste, some remedy prepare:
Now you are in, you must break through the snare.

_Zul._ She said, she would my folly yet conceal;
But vowed my next attempt she would reveal.

_Hamet._ 'Tis dark; and in this lonely gallery,
Remote from noise, and shunning every eye,
One hour each evening she in private mourns,
And prays, and to the circle then returns.

_Zul._ These lighted tapers show the time is nigh.
Perhaps my courtship will not be in vain:
At least, few women will of force complain.

_At the other end of the Gallery, enter_ ALMANZOR _and_ ESPERANZA.

_Hamet._ Almanzor, and with him
The favourite slave of the sultana queen.

_Zul._ Ere they approach, let us retire unseen,
And watch our time when they return again:
Then force shall give, if favour does deny;
And, that once done, we'll to the Spaniards fly.
[_Exeunt_ ZUL. _and_ HAMET.

_Almanz._ Now stand; the apartment of the queen is near;
And, from this place, your voice will reach her ear.
[ESPERANZA _goes out._

SONG, IN TWO PARTS.

I.

He. _How unhappy a lover am I,
While I sigh for my Phillis in vain;
All my hopes of delight
Are another man's right,
Who is happy, while I am in pain!_

II.

She. _Since her honour allows no relief,
But to pity the pains which you bear,
'Tis the best of your fate
In a hopeless estate,
To give o'er, and betimes to despair._

III.

He. _I have tried the false med'cine in vain;
For I wish what I hope not to win:
From without, my desire
Has no food to its fire;
But it burns and consumes me within._

IV.

She. _Yet, at least, 'tis a pleasure to know