d would, even in my arms, lie thinking of a throne.

_Zul._ Add to the rest, this one reflection more:
When she is married, and you still adore,
Think then,--and think what comfort it will bring,--
She had been mine,
Had I but only dared to be a king!

_Abdal._ I hope you only would my honour try;
I'm loth to think you virtue's enemy.

_Zul._ If, when a crown and mistress are in place,
Virtue intrudes, with her lean holy face,
Virtue's then mine, and not I virtue's foe.
Why does she come where she has nought to do?
Let her with anchorites, not with lovers, lie;
Statesmen and they keep better company.

_Abdal._ Reason was given to curb our head-strong will.

_Zul._ Reason but shews a weak physician's skill;
Gives nothing, while the raging fit does last,
But stays to cure it, when the worst is past.
Reason's a staff for age, when nature's gone;
But youth is strong enough to walk alone,

_Abdal._ In cursed ambition I no rest should find,
But must for ever lose my peace of mind.

_Zul._ Methinks that peace of mind were bravely lost;
A crown, whate'er we give, is worth the cost.

_Abdal._ Justice distributes to each man his right;
But what she gives not, should I take by might?

_Zul._ If justice will take all, and nothing give,
Justice, methinks, is not distributive.

_Abdal._ Had fate so pleased, I had been eldest born,
And then, without a crime, the crown had worn!--

_Zul._ Would you so please, fate yet a way would find;
Man makes his fate according to his mind.
The weak low spirit, fortune makes her slave;
But she's a drudge, when hectored by the brave:
If fate weaves common thread, he'll change the doom,
And with new purple spread a nobler loom.

_Abdal._ No more!--I will usurp the royal seat;
Thou, who hast made me wicked, make me great.

_Zul._ Your way is plain: the death of Tarifa
Does on the king our Zegrys' hatred draw;
Though with our enemies in show we close,
'Tis but while we to purpose can be foes.
Selin, who heads us, would revenge his son;
But favour hinders justice to be done.
Proud Ozmyn with the king his power maintains,
And, in him, each Abencerrago reigns.

_Abdal._ What face of any title can I bring?

_Zul._ The right an eldest son has to be king.
Your father was at first a private man,
And got your brother ere his reign began;
When, by his valour, he the crown had won,
Then you were born a monarch's eldest son.

_Abdal._ To sharp-eyed reason this would seem untrue;
But