_Abdal._ My love must in my diligence be shown.--
And [_To_ ARCOS.] as my pledge of faith to Spain, this hour
I'll put the fortress in your master's power.

_Selin._ An open way from hence to it there lies,
And we with ease may send in large supplies,
Free from the shot and sallies of the town.

_D. Arcos._ Permit me, sir, to share in your renown;
First to my king I will impart the news,
And then draw out what succours we shall use.
[_Exit Duke of_ ARCOS.

_Abdal._ [_Aside._]
Grant that she loves me not, at least I see
She loves not others, if she loves not me.--
'Tis pleasure, when we reap the fruit of pain:
'Tis only pride, to be beloved again.
How many are not loved, who think they are!
Yet all are willing to believe the fair;
And, though 'tis beauty's known and obvious cheat,
Yet man's self-love still favours the deceit. [_Exit_ ABDAL.

_Selin._ Farewell, my children! equally so dear,
That I myself am to myself less near:
While I repeat the dangers of the war,
Your mutual safety be each other's care.
Your father, Ozmyn, till the war be done,
As much as honour will permit, I'll shun: