_Almah._ To force me, sir, is much unworthy you,
[_Smiling scornfully._
And, when you would, impossible to do.
If force could bend me, you might think, with shame,
That I debase the blood from whence I came.
My soul is soft, which you may gently lay
In your loose palm; but, when 'tis pressed to stay,
Like water, it deludes your grasp, and slips away.

_Boab._ I find I must revoke what I decreed:
Almanzor's death my nuptials must precede.
Love is a magic which the lover ties;
But charms still end when the magician dies.
Go; let me hear my hated rival's dead; [_To his Guard._
And, to convince my eyes, bring back his head.

_Almah._ Go on: I wish no other way to prove
That I am worthy of Almanzor's love.
We will in death, at least, united be:
I'll shew you I can die as well as he.

_Boab._ What should I do! when equally I dread
Almanzor living and Almanzor dead!--
Yet, by your promise, you are mine alone.

_Almah._ How dare you claim my faith, and break your own?

_Aben._ This for your virtue is a weak defence:
No second vows can with your first dispense.