And that's another happiness to me,
To be so happy as but one can be.

_Abdal._ Madam,--because I would all doubts remove,--
Would you, were I a king, accept my love?

_Lyndar._ I would accept it; and, to shew 'tis true,
From any other man as soon as you.

_Abdal._ Your sharp replies make me not love you less;
But make me seek new paths to happiness.--
What I design, by time will best be seen:
You may be mine, and yet may be a queen.
When you are so, your word your love assures.

_Lyndar._ Perhaps not love you,--but I will be yours.--
[_He offers to take her hand, and kiss it._
Stay, sir, that grace I cannot yet allow;
Before you set the crown upon my brow.--
That favour which you seek,
Or Abdelmelech, or a king, must have;
When you are so, then you may be my slave.
[_Exit; but looks smiling back on him._

_Abdal._ Howe'er imperious in her words she were,
Her parting looks had nothing of severe;
A glancing smile allured me to command,
And her soft fingers gently pressed my hand:
I felt the pleasure glide through every part;
Her hand went through me to my very heart.