_Ozm._ If you have honour,--since you nature want,--
For your own sake my last petition grant;
And kill not a disarmed, defenceless foe,
Whose death your cruelty, or fear, will show.
My father cannot do an act so base:--
My father!--I mistake;--I meant, who was.

_Aben._ Go, then, dispatch him first who was my son!

_Ozm._ Swear but to save his life, I'll yield my own.

_Aben._ Nor tears, nor prayers, thy life, or his, shall buy.

_Ozm._ Then, sir, Benzayda's father shall not die!--
[_Putting himself before_ SELIN.
And, since he'll want defence when I am gone,
I will, to save his life, defend my own.

_Aben._ This justice, parricides, like thee, should have!--
[ABEN. _and his party attack them both._ OZM.
_parries his father's thrusts, and thrusts
at the others._

_Enter_ BENZAYDA, _with_ ABDALLA, _the Duke of_ ARCOS, _and
Spaniards._

_Benz._ O, help my father! and my Ozmyn save!

_Abdal._ Villains, that death you have deserved is near!