_Alm._ My blood curdles,
And cakes about my heart.
_Seb._ I'll breathe a sigh so warm into thy bosom,
Shall make it flow again. My love, he knows not
Thou art a Christian: that produced his fear,
Lest thou shouldst sooth my soul with charms so strong,
That heaven might prove too weak.
_Alm._ There must be more:
This could not blunt your sword.
_Seb._ Yes, if I drew it, with a curst intent,
To take a misbeliever to my bed:
It must be so.
_Alm._ Yet--
_Seb._ No, thou shalt not plead,
With that fair mouth, against the cause of love.
Within this castle is a captive priest,
My holy confessor, whose free access
Not even the barbarous victors have refused;
This hour his hands shall make us one.
_Alm._ I go, with love and fortune, two blind guides,
To lead my way, half loth, and half consenting.
If, as my soul forebodes, some dire event
Pursue this union, or some crime unknown,
Forgive me, heaven! and, all ye blest above,
Excuse the frailty of unbounded love! [_Exeunt._
SCENE II.--_Supposed a Garden, with lodging rooms behind it, or on the
sides._
_Enter_ MUFTI, ANTONIO _as a slave, and_ JOHAYMA _the_ MUFTI'S
_wife._
_Muf._ And how do you like him? look upon him well; he is a personable
fellow of a Christian dog. Now, I think you are fitted for a gardener.
Ha, what sayest thou, Johayma?
_Joh.
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