}
But ’tis as rollers in wet gardens grow }
Heavy with dirt, and gathering as they go. }
May none, who have so little understood,
To like such trash, presume to praise what’s good! 
And may those drudges of the stage, whose fate
Is damned dull farce more dully to translate,
Fall under that excise the state thinks fit
To set on all French wares, whose worst is wit. 
French farce, worn out at home, is sent abroad;
And, patched up here, is made our English mode. 
Henceforth, let poets, ere allowed to write,
Be searched, like duelists before they fight,
For wheel-broad hats, dull honour, all that chaff,
Which makes you mourn, and makes the vulgar laugh: 
For these, in plays, are as unlawful arms,
As, in a combat, coats of mail, and charms.

Footnote: 
1.  There is a vague tradition, that, in this grotesque dress, (for the
   brims of the hat were as broad as a cart-wheel,) Nell Gwyn had the
   good fortune first to attract the attention of her royal lover. 
   Where the jest lay, is difficult to discover:  it seems to have
   originated with the duke of York’s players.

DRAMATIS PERSONAE

MAHOMET BOABDELIN, the last king of Granada. Prince ABDALLA, his brother. ABDELMELECH, chief of the Abencerrages. ZULEMA, chief of the Zegrys. ABENAMAR, an old Abencerrago. SELIN, an old Zegry. OZMYN, a brave young Abencerrago, son to Abenamar. HAMET, brother to Zulema, a Zegry. GOMEL, a Zegry. ALMANZOR.  FERDINAND, king of Spain. Duke of ARCOS, his General. Don ALONZO D’AGUILAR, a Spanish Captain.

  ALMAHIDE, Queen of Granada.
  LYNDARAXA, Sister of ZULEMA, a Zegry Lady.
  BENZAYDA, Daughter to SELIN. 
  ESPERANZA, Slave to the Queen.
  HALYMA, Slave to LYNDARAXA. 
  ISABELLA, Queen of Spain.

Messengers, Guards, Attendants, Men, and Women.

SCENE.—­Granada, and the Christian Camp besieging it.

ALMANZOR AND ALMAHIDE,

OR, THE

CONQUEST OF GRANADA.

THE FIRST PART.

ACT I. SCENE I.

Enter BOABDELIN, ABENAMAR, ABDELMELECH, and Guards.

Boab. Thus, in the triumphs of soft peace, I reign;
And, from my walls, defy the powers of Spain;
With pomp and sports my love I celebrate,
While they keep distance, and attend my state.—­
Parent to her, whose eyes my soul enthral, [To ABEN. 
Whom I, in hope, already father call,
Abenamar, thy youth these sports has known,
Of which thy age is now spectator grown;
Judge-like thou sit’st, to praise, or to arraign
The flying skirmish of the darted cane: 
But, when fierce bulls run loose upon the place,
And our bold Moors their loves with danger grace,
Then heat new-bends thy slacken’d nerves again,
And a short youth runs warm through every vein.