did fall.

_K. Ferd._ O blessed event!

_D. Arcos._ The Moors no longer fought;
But all their safety by submission sought:
Mean time my son grew faint with loss of blood,
And on his bending sword supported stood;
Yet, with a voice beyond his strength, he cried,
"Lead me to live or die by Almahide."

_K. Ferd._ I am not for his wounds less grieved than you:
For, if what now my soul divines prove true,
This is that son, whom in his infancy
You lost, when by my father forced to fly.

_D. Arcos._ His sister's beauty did my passion move,
(The crime for which I suffered was my love.)
Our marriage known, to sea we took our flight:
There, in a storm, Almanzor first saw light.
On his right arm a bloody heart was graved,
(The mark by which, this day, my life was saved:)
The bracelets and the cross his mother tied
About his wrist, ere she in childbed died.
How we were captives made, when she was dead,
And how Almanzor was in Afric bred,
Some other hour you may at leisure hear,
For see, the queen in triumph does appear.

_Enter_ QUEEN ISABELLA, LYNDARAXA, _Ladies, Moors and Spaniards
mixed as Guards,_ ABDELMELECH, ABENAMAR, SELIN, _Prisoners._

_K. Ferd._ [_embracing Q. Isabel._]
All stories which Granada's conquest tell,
Shall celebrate the name of Isabel.
Your ladies too, who, in their country's cause,
Led on the men, shall share in your applause;
And, for your sakes, henceforward I ordain,
No lady's dower shall questioned be in Spain,
Fair Lyndaraxa, for the help she lent,
Shall, under tribute, have this government.

_Abdelm._ O heaven, that I should live to see this day!

_Lyndar._ You murmur now, but you shall soon obey.
I knew this empire to my fate was owed;
Heaven held it back as long as e'er it could;
For thee, base wretch, I want a torture yet-- [_To_ ABDELM.
I'll cage thee; thou shalt be my Bajazet.
I on no pavement but on thee will tread;
And, when I mount, my foot shall know thy head.

_Abdelm._ (_Stabbing her with a poniard._)
This first shall know thy heart.

_Lyndar._ O! I am slain!

_Abdelm._ Now, boast thy country is betrayed to Spain.

_K. Ferd._ Look to the lady!--Seize the murderer!

_Abdelm._ (_Stabbing himself._)
I do myself that justice I did her.
Thy blood I to thy ruined country give, [_To_ LYNDAR.
But love too well thy murder to out-live.
Forgive a love, excused by its excess,
Which, had it not been cruel, had been less.
Condemn my passion, the