_Aben._ While people tug for freedom, kings for power,
Both sink beneath some foreign conqueror:
Then subjects find too late they were unjust,
And want that power of kings, they durst not trust.

_To them_ ABDELMELECH.

_Abdelm._ The tumult now is high, and dangerous grown:
The people talk of rendering up the town;
And swear that they will force the king's consent.

_Boab._ What counsel can this rising storm prevent?

_Abdelm._ Their fright to no persuasions will give ear:
There's a deaf madness in a people's fear.

_Enter a Messenger._

_Mess._ Their fury now a middle course does take;
To yield the town, or call Almanzor back.

_Boab._ I'll rather call my death.--
Go and bring up my guards to my defence:
I'll punish this outrageous insolence.

_Aben._ Since blind opinion does their reason sway,
You must submit to cure them their own way.
You to their fancies physic must apply;
Give them that chief on whom they most rely.
Under Almanzor prosperously they fought;