Abdal. Hold, sir! for heaven’s sake hold! 
Defer this noble stranger’s punishment,
Or your rash orders you will soon repent.

Boab. Brother, you know not yet his insolence.

Abdal. Upon yourself you punish his offence: 
If we treat gallant strangers in this sort,
Mankind will shun the inhospitable court;
And who, henceforth, to our defence will come,
If death must be the brave Almanzor’s doom? 
From Africa I drew him to your aid,
And for his succour have his life betrayed.

Boab. Is this the Almanzor whom at Fez you knew, When first their swords the Xeriff brothers drew?

Abdal. This, sir, is he, who for the elder fought,
And to the juster cause the conquest brought;
Till the proud Santo, seated on the throne,
Disdained the service he had done to own: 
Then to the vanquished part his fate he led;
The vanquished triumphed, and the victor fled. 
Vast is his courage, boundless is his mind,
Rough as a storm, and humorous as wind: 
Honour’s the only idol of his eyes;
The charms of beauty like a pest he flies;
And, raised by valour from a birth unknown,
Acknowledges no power above his own. [BOABDELIN coming to ALMANZOR.

Boab. Impute your danger to our ignorance;
The bravest men are subject most to chance: 
Granada much does to your kindness owe;
But towns, expecting sieges, cannot show
More honour, than to invite you to a foe.

Almanz. I do not doubt but I have been to blame: 
But, to pursue the end for which I came,
Unite your subjects first; then let us go,
And pour their common rage upon the foe.

Boab. [to the Factions.] Lay down your arms, and let me beg you cease Your enmities.

Zul. We will not hear of peace, Till we by force have first revenged our slain.

Abdelm. The action we have done we will maintain.

Selin. Then let the king depart, and we will try Our cause by arms.

Zul. For us and victory.

Boab. A king entreats you.

Almanz. What subjects will precarious kings regard? 
A beggar speaks too softly to be heard: 
Lay down your arms! ’tis I command you now. 
Do it—­or, by our prophet’s soul I vow,
My hands shall right your king on him I seize. 
Now let me see whose look but disobeys.

All. Long live king Mahomet Boabdelin!

Almanz. No more; but hushed as midnight silence go: 
He will not have your acclamations now. 
Hence, you unthinking crowd!—­
                          [The Common People go off on both parties.
Empire, thou poor and despicable thing,
When such as these make or unmake a king!

Abdal. How much of virtue lies in one great soul, [Embracing him. Whose single force can multitudes controul! [A trumpet within.