Mont.  You are my prisoner, and I set you free.

Aca.  ’Twere baseness to accept such liberty.

Mont.  From him, that conquered you, it should be sought.

Aca.  No, but from him, for whom my conqueror fought.

Mont.  Still you are mine, his gift has made you so.

Aca.  He gave me to his general, not his foe.

Mont.  How poorly have you pleaded honour’s laws!  Yet shun the greatest in your country’s cause.

Aca.  What succour can the captive give the free.

Mont.  A needless captive is an enemy.  In painted honour you would seem to shine; But ’twould be clouded, were your wrongs like mine.

Aca.  When choler such unbridled power can have, Thy virtue seems but thy revenge’s slave:  If such injustice should my honour stain, My aid would prove my nation’s loss, not gain.

Mont.  Be cozened by thy guilty honesty, To make thyself thy country’s enemy.

Aca.  I do not mean in the next fight to stain
My sword in blood of any Mexican,
But will be present in the fatal strife,
To guard Orazia’s and the Inca’s life.

Mont.  Orazia’s life, fond man!  First guard thy own; Her safety she must owe to me alone.

Aca.  Your sword, that does such wonders, cannot be, In an ill cause, secure of victory.

Mont.  Hark, hark! [Noise of trampling.

Aca.  What noise is this invades my ear? 
Fly, Montezuma! fly, the guards are near: 
To favour your retreat, I’ll freely pay
That life, which you so frankly gave this day.

Mont.  I must retire; but those, that follow me, Pursue their deaths, and not their victory.

 [Exit MONT.

Aca.  Our quarrels kinder than our friendships prove:  You for my country fight, I for your love.

Enter INCA and Guards.

Inca.  I was to blame to leave this madman free;
Perhaps he may revolt to the enemy,
Or stay, and raise some fatal mutiny.

Aca.  Stop your pursuits, for they must pass through me.

Inca.  Where is the slave?

Aca.  Gone.

Inca.  Whither?

Aca.  O’er the plain; Where he may soon the camp, or city, gain.

Inca.  Curse on my dull neglect! 
And yet I do less cause of wonder find,
That he is gone, than that thou stayest behind.

Aca.  My treatment, since you took me, was so free,
It wanted but the name of liberty. 
I with less shame can still your captive live,
Than take that freedom, which you did not give.

Inca.  Thou brave young man, that hast thy years outdone,
And, losing liberty, hast honour won,
I must myself thy honour’s rival make,
And give that freedom, which thou would’st not take. 
Go, and be safe.—­