_Abdal._ Yes, you may blush; and you have cause to weep.
Is this the faith you promised me to keep?
Ah yet, if to a lover you will bring
No succour, give your succour to a king.

_Lyndar._ A king is he, whom nothing can withstand;
Who men and money can with ease command.
A king is he, whom fortune still does bless;
He is a king, who does a crown possess.
If you would have me think that you are he,
Produce to view your marks of sovereignty;
But if yourself alone for proof you bring,
You are but a single person, not a king.

_Abdal._ Ungrateful maid, did I for this rebel?
I say no more; but I have loved too well.

_Lyndar._ Who but yourself did that rebellion move:
Did I e'er promise to receive your love?
Is it my fault you are not fortunate?
I love a king, but a poor rebel hate.

_Abdal._ Who follow fortune, still are in the right;
But let me be protected here this night.

_Lyndar._ The place to-morrow will be circled round;
And then no way will for your flight be found.

_Abdal._ I hear my enemies just coming on; [_Trampling within._