Alm.  Rival, I must your jealousy remove, You shall, hereafter, be at rest for love.

Cyd.  Now you are kind.

Alm.—­He whom you love is true:  But he shall never be possest by you.

[Draws her dagger, and runs towards her.

Cort.  Hold, hold, ah barbarous woman! fly, oh fly!

Cyd.  Ah pity, pity, is no succour nigh!

Cort.  Run, run behind me, there you may be sure,
While I have life, I will your life secure. [CYDARIA gets behind him.

Alm.  On him, or thee,—­light vengeance any where [She stabs and hurts him.  —­What have I done?  I see his blood appear!

Cyd.  It streams, it streams from every vital part:  Was there no way but this to find his heart?

Alm.  Ah! cursed woman, what was my design!  This weapon’s point shall mix that blood with mine!

[Goes to stab herself, and being within his reach he snatches the dagger.

Cort.  Now neither life nor death are in your power.

Alm.  Then sullenly I’ll wait my fatal hour.

Enter VASQUEZ and PIZARRO, with drawn swords.

Vasq.  He lives, he lives.

Cort.—­Unfetter me with speed; Vasquez, I see you troubled that I bleed:  But ’tis not deep, our army I can head.

Vasq.  You to a certain victory are led; Your men, all armed, stand silently within:  I with your freedom did the work begin.

Piz.  What friends we have, and how we came so strong, We’ll softly tell you as we march along.

Cort.  In this safe place let me secure your fear:  [To CYDARIA. 
No clashing swords, no noise can enter here. 
Amidst our arms as quiet you shall be,
As Halcyons brooding on a winter sea.

Cyd.  Leave me not here alone, and full of fright,
Amidst the terrors of a dreadful night: 
You judge, alas, my courage by your own;
I never durst in darkness be alone: 
I beg, I throw me humbly at your feet.

Cort.  You must not go where you may dangers meet.  The unruly sword will no destinction make; And beauty will not there give wounds, but take.

Alm.  Then stay and take me with you; tho’ to be
A slave to wait upon your victory. 
My heart unmoved can noise and horror bear: 
Parting from you is all the death I fear.

Cort.  Almeria, ’tis enough I leave you free:  You neither must stay here, nor go with me.

Aim.  Then take my life, that will my rest restore:  ’Tis all I ask, for saving yours before.

Cort.  That were a barbarous return of love.

Alm.  Yet, leaving it, you more inhuman prove.  In both extremes I some relief should find; Oh! either hate me more, or be more kind.

Cort.  Life of my soul, do not my absence mourn: 
But chear your heart in hopes of my return. [To CYD. 
Your noble father’s life shall be my care;
And both your brothers I’m obliged to spare.