yet all, I fear, too late;
The enemy's already at the gate.

_Boab._ The Christians are dislodged; what foe is near?

_Ozm._ The Zegrys are in arms, and almost here:
The streets with torches shine, with shoutings ring,
And Prince Abdalla is proclaimed the king.
What man could do, I have already done,
But bold Almanzor fiercely leads them on.

_Aben._ The Alhambra yet is safe in my command; [_To the King._
Retreat you thither, while their shock we stand.

_Boab._ I cannot meanly for my life provide;
I'll either perish in't, or stem this tide.
To guard the palace, Ozmyn, be your care:
If they o'ercome, no sword will hurt the fair.

_Ozm._ I'll either die; or I'll make good the place.

_Abdelm._ And I with these will bold Almanzor face.
[_Exeunt all but the Ladies. An alarum within._

_Almah._ What dismal planet did my triumphs light!
Discord the day, and death does rule the night:
The noise my soul does through my senses wound.

_Lyndar._ Methinks it is a noble, sprightly sound,
The trumpet's clangor, and the clash of arms!
This noise may chill your blood, but mine it warms.
[_Shouting and clashing of swords within._
We have already passed the Rubicon;
The dice are mine; now, fortune, for a throne!
[_A shout within, and clashing of swords afar off._
The sound goes farther off, and faintly dies;
Curse of this going back, these ebbing cries!
Ye winds, waft hither sounds more strong and quick;
Beat faster, drums, and mingle deaths more thick.
I'll to the turrets of the palace go,
And add new fire to those that fight below:
Thence, hero-like, with torches by my side,
(Far be the omen, though) my love will guide.
No; like his better fortune I'll appear,
With open arms, loose veil, and flowing hair,
Just flying forward from my rolling sphere:
My smiles shall make Abdalla more than man;
Let him look up, and perish if he can. [_Exit._

_An alarum nearer: Then Enter_ ALMANZOR _and_ SELIN, _at the head of
the Zegrys_; OZMYN _Prisoner._

_Almanz._ We have not fought enough; they fly too soon;
And I am grieved the noble sport is done.
This only man, of all whom chance did bring [_Pointing to_ OZMYN.
To meet my arms, was worth the conquering.
His brave resistance did my fortune grace;
So slow, so threatning forward he gave place.
His chains be easy, and his usage fair.

_Selin._ I beg you would commit him