_Ozm._ Stay, prince! and know, I have a father here!--
[_Stops_ ABDALLA'S _hand._
I were that parricide, of whom he spoke,
Did not my piety prevent your stroke.

_D. Arcos._ to _Aben._
Depart, then, and thank heaven you had a son.

_Aben._ I am not with these shows of duty won.

_Ozm._ to his _Father._
Heaven knows, I would that life, you seek, resign;
But, while Benzayda lives, it is not mine.
Will you yet pardon my unwilling crime?

_Aben._ By no entreaties, by no length of time,
Will I be won; but, with my latest breath,
I'll curse thee here, and haunt thee after death.
[_Exit_ ABEN. _with his party._

_Ozm._ Can you be merciful to that degree, [_Kneeling to_ SELIN.
As to forgive my father's faults in me?
Can you forgive
The death of him I slew in my defence,
And from the malice separate the offence?
I can no longer be your enemy:
In short, now kill me, sir, or pardon me. [_Offers him his sword._
In this your silence my hard fate appears.

_Selin._ I'll answer you, when I can speak for tears.