Enter BENZAYDA, with ABDALLA, the Duke of ARCOS, and
Spaniards.

Benz. O, help my father! and my Ozmyn save!

Abdal. Villains, that death you have deserved is near!

Ozm. Stay, prince! and know, I have a father here!—­
                                            [Stops ABDALLA’S hand.
I were that parricide, of whom he spoke,
Did not my piety prevent your stroke.

D.  Arcos. to Aben. Depart, then, and thank heaven you had a son.

Aben. I am not with these shows of duty won.

Ozm. to his Father.
Heaven knows, I would that life, you seek, resign;
But, while Benzayda lives, it is not mine. 
Will you yet pardon my unwilling crime?

Aben. By no entreaties, by no length of time,
Will I be won; but, with my latest breath,
I’ll curse thee here, and haunt thee after death.
                                       [Exit ABEN. with his party.

Ozm. Can you be merciful to that degree, [Kneeling to SELIN. 
As to forgive my father’s faults in me? 
Can you forgive
The death of him I slew in my defence,
And from the malice separate the offence? 
I can no longer be your enemy: 
In short, now kill me, sir, or pardon me. [Offers him his sword.
In this your silence my hard fate appears.

Selin. I’ll answer you, when I can speak for tears. 
But, till I can,
Imagine what must needs be brought to pass; [Embraces him.
My heart’s not made of marble, nor of brass. 
Did I for you a cruel death prepare,
And have you, have you made my life your care! 
There is a shame contracted by my faults,
Which hinders me to speak my secret thoughts. 
And I will tell you—­when the shame’s removed—­
You are not better by my daughter loved.—­
Benzayda be yours.—­I can no more.

Ozm. Blessed be that breath which does my life restore!
          
                                     [Embracing his knees.

Benz. I hear my father now; these words confess That name, and that indulgent tenderness.

Selin. Benzayda, I have been too much to blame;
But let your goodness expiate my shame: 
You Ozmyn’s virtue did in chains adore,
And part of me was just to him before.—­
My son!—­

Ozm. My father!—­

Selin. Since by you I live,
I, for your sake, your family forgive. 
Let your hard father still my life pursue,
I hate not him, but for his hate to you;
Even that hard father yet may one day be
By kindness vanquished, as you vanquished me;
Or, if my death can quench to you his rage,
Heaven makes good use of my remaining age.

Abdal. I grieve your joys are mingled with my cares; But all take interest in their own affairs; And, therefore, I must ask how mine proceed.