As he goes off, the King meets him with Abenamar; they stare at each other without saluting.
Boab. With him go all my fears: A guard there wait,
And see him safe without the city gate.
To them Abdelmelech.
Now, Abdelmelech, is my brother dead?
Abdelm. Th' usurper to the Christian camp is fled;
Whom as Granada's lawful king they own,
And vow, by force, to seat him on the throne.
Mean time the rebels in the Albayzyn rest;
Which is in Lyndaraxa's name possest.
Boab. Haste and reduce it instantly by force.
Abdelm. First give me leave to prove a milder course.
She will, perhaps, on summons yield the place.
Boab. We cannot to your suit refuse her grace. [One enters hastily, and whispers Abenamar.
Aben. How fortune persecutes this hoary head!
My Ozmyn is with Selin's daughter fled.
But he's no more my son:
My hate shall like a Zegry him pursue,
'Till I take back what blood from me he drew.
Boab. Let war and vengeance be to-morrow's care;
But let us to the temple now repair.
A thousand torches make the mosque more bright:
This must be mine and Almahide's night.
Hence, ye importunate affairs of state,
You should not tyrannize on love, but wait.
Had life no love, none would for business live;
Yet still from love the largest part we give;
And must be forced, in empire's weary toil,
To live long wretched, to be pleased a while. [Exeunt.