Aca.  What joy can empire bring me, when I know That all my greatness to your crimes I owe: 

Zemp.  Yours be the joy, be mine the punishment.

Aca.  In vain, alas, that wish to Heaven is sent For me, if fair Orazia must not live.

Zemp.  Why should you ask me what I cannot give?  She must be sacrificed:  Can I bestow What to the gods, by former vows, I owe?

Aca.  O plead not vows; I wish you had not shown You slighted all things sacred for a throne.

Zemp.  I love thee so, that, though fear follows still,
And horror urges, all that have been ill,
I could for thee
Act o’er my crimes again; and not repent,
Even when I bore the shame and punishment.

Aca.  Could you so many ill acts undertake, And not perform one good one for my sake?

Zemp.  Prudence permits not pity should be shown To those, that raised the war to shake my throne.

Aca.  As you are wise, permit me to be just;
What prudence will not venture, honour must;
We owe our conquest to the stranger’s sword,
Tis just his prisoners be to him restored. 
I love Orazia; but a nobler way,
Than for my love my honour to betray.

Zemp.  Honour is but an itch of youthful blood,
Of doing acts extravagantly good;
We call that virtue, which is only heat
That reigns in youth, till age finds out the cheat.

Aca.  Great actions first did her affections move, And I, by greater, would regain her love.

Zemp.  Urge not a suit which I must still deny;
Orazia and her father both shall die: 
Begone, I’ll hear no more.

Aca.  You stop your ears—­
But though a mother will not, Heaven will hear;
Like you I vow, when to the powers divine
You pay her guiltless blood, I’ll offer mine. [Exit.

Zemp.  She dies, this happy rival, that enjoys
The stranger’s love, and all my hopes destroys;
Had she triumphed, what could she more have done,
Than robbed the mother, and enslaved the son? 
Nor will I, at the name of cruel, stay: 
Let dull successive monarchs mildly sway: 
Their conquering fathers did the laws forsake,
And broke the old, ere they the new could make,
I must pursue my love; yet love, enjoyed,
Will, with esteem, that caused it first, grow less: 
But thirst and hunger fear not to be cloyed,
And when they be, are cured by their excess.

Enter TRAXALLA.

Trax.  Now I shall see, what thoughts her heart conceals; For that, which wisdom covers, love reveals. [Aside.  Madam, the prisoners are disposed.

Zemp.  They are?  And how fares our young blustering man of war?  Does he support his chains with patience yet?

Trax.  He, and the princess, madam—­

Zemp.  Are they met?