Zul. Add to the rest, this one reflection more: 
When she is married, and you still adore,
Think then,—­and think what comfort it will bring,—­
She had been mine,
Had I but only dared to be a king!

Abdal. I hope you only would my honour try; I’m loth to think you virtue’s enemy.

Zul. If, when a crown and mistress are in place,
Virtue intrudes, with her lean holy face,
Virtue’s then mine, and not I virtue’s foe. 
Why does she come where she has nought to do? 
Let her with anchorites, not with lovers, lie;
Statesmen and they keep better company.

Abdal. Reason was given to curb our head-strong will.

Zul. Reason but shews a weak physician’s skill;
Gives nothing, while the raging fit does last,
But stays to cure it, when the worst is past. 
Reason’s a staff for age, when nature’s gone;
But youth is strong enough to walk alone,

Abdal. In cursed ambition I no rest should find, But must for ever lose my peace of mind.

Zul. Methinks that peace of mind were bravely lost; A crown, whate’er we give, is worth the cost.

Abdal. Justice distributes to each man his right; But what she gives not, should I take by might?

Zul. If justice will take all, and nothing give, Justice, methinks, is not distributive.

Abdal. Had fate so pleased, I had been eldest born, And then, without a crime, the crown had worn!—­

Zul. Would you so please, fate yet a way would find;
Man makes his fate according to his mind. 
The weak low spirit, fortune makes her slave;
But she’s a drudge, when hectored by the brave: 
If fate weaves common thread, he’ll change the doom,
And with new purple spread a nobler loom.

Abdal. No more!—­I will usurp the royal seat; Thou, who hast made me wicked, make me great.

Zul. Your way is plain:  the death of Tarifa
Does on the king our Zegrys’ hatred draw;
Though with our enemies in show we close,
’Tis but while we to purpose can be foes. 
Selin, who heads us, would revenge his son;
But favour hinders justice to be done. 
Proud Ozmyn with the king his power maintains,
And, in him, each Abencerrago reigns.

Abdal. What face of any title can I bring?

Zul. The right an eldest son has to be king. 
Your father was at first a private man,
And got your brother ere his reign began;
When, by his valour, he the crown had won,
Then you were born a monarch’s eldest son.

Abdal. To sharp-eyed reason this would seem untrue; But reason I through love’s false optics view.

Zul. Love’s mighty power has led me captive too; I am in it unfortunate as you.

Abdal. Our loves and fortunes shall together go; Thou shalt be happy, when I first am so.