And wish my sister may continue fair,
That I may keep a good,
Of whose possession I should else despair.

_Ozm._ While we indulge our common happiness,
He is forgot, by whom we all possess;
The brave Almanzor, to whose arms we owe
All that we did, and all that we shall do;
Who, like a tempest, that out-rides the wind,
Made a just battle ere the bodies joined.

_Abdelm._ His victories we scarce could keep in view,
Or polish them so fast as he rough-drew.

_Abdal._ Fate, after him, below with pain did move,
And victory could scarce keep pace above:
Death did at length so many slain forget,
And lost the tale, and took them by the great.

_Enter_ ALMANZOR, _with the Duke of_ ARCOS, _prisoner._

_Hamet._ See, here he comes,
And leads in triumph him, who did command
The vanquished army of king Ferdinand.

_Almanz._ [_To the Duke._]
Thus far your master's arms a fortune find
Below the swelled ambition of his mind;
And Alha shuts a misbeliever's reign
From out the best and goodliest part of Spain.