Trax.  Grant that it did, what can his merits be,
That sought his vengeance, not our victory? 
What has thy brutish fury gained us more,
Than only healed the wounds, it gave before? 
Die then, for, whilst thou liv’st, wars cannot cease;
Thou may’st bring victory, but never peace. 
Like a black storm thou roll’st about us all,
Even to thyself unquiet, till thy fall. [Draws to kill him.

Aca.  Unthankful villain, hold!

Trax.  You must not give Him succour, sir.

Aca.  Why then, I must not live. 
Posterity shall ne’er report, they had
Such thankless fathers, or a prince so bad.

Zemp.  You’re both too bold to will or to deny: 
On me alone depends his destiny. 
Tell me, audacious stranger, whence could rise
The confidence of this rash enterprise?

Mont.  First tell me, how you dared to force from me The fairest spoils of my own victory?

Zemp.  Kill him—­hold, must he die?—­why, let him die;—­
Whence should proceed this strange diversity. 
In my resolves? 
Does he command in chains?  What would he do,
Proud slave, if he were free, and I were so? 
But is he bound, ye gods, or am I free? 
’Tis love, ’tis love, that thus disorders me. 
How pride and love tear my divided soul! 
For each too narrow, yet both claim it whole: 
Love, as the younger, must be forced away.—­
Hence with the captives, general, and convey
To several prisons that young man, and this
Peruvian woman.

Trax.  How concerned she is!  I must know more.

Mont.  Fair princess, why should I
Involve that sweetness in my destiny? 
I could out-brave my death, were I alone
To suffer, but my fate must pull yours on. 
My breast is armed against all sense of fear;
But where your image lies, ’tis tender there.

Inca.  Forbear thy saucy love, she cannot be So low, but still she is too high for thee.

Zemp.  Be gone, and do as I command; away!

Mont.  I ne’er was truly wretched till this day.

Oraz.  Think half your sorrows on Orazia fall,
And be not so unkind to suffer all: 
Patience, in cowards, is tame hopeless fear,
But, in brave minds, a scorn of what they bear. [Exit Inca, MONTEZUMA, ORAZIA, and TRAXALLA.

Zemp.  What grief is this which in your face appears?

Aca.  The badge of sorrow, which my soul still wears.

Zemp.  Though thy late actions did my anger move,
It cannot rob thee of a mother’s love. 
Why shouldst thou grieve? 
Grief seldom joined with blooming youth is seen;
Can sorrow be where knowledge scarce has been? 
Fortune does well for heedless youth provide,
But wisdom does unlucky age misguide;
Cares are the train of present power and state,
But hope lives best that on himself does wait: 
O happiest fortune if well understood,
The certain prospect of a future good!