Oraz.  I would have none condemned for loving you; In me her merit much her fault o’erpowers; She sought my life, but she preserved me yours.

Amex.  Taught by my own, I pity her estate, And wish her penitence, but not her fate.

Inca.  I would not be the last to bid her live; Kings best revenge their wrongs, when they forgive.

Zemp.  I cannot yet forget what I have been: 
Would you give life to her, that was a queen? 
Must you then give, and must I take? there’s yet
One way, that’s by refusing, to be great: 
You bid me live—­bid me be wretched too;
Think, think, what pride, unthroned, must undergo: 
Look on this youth, Amexia, look, and then
Suppose him yours, and bid me live again;
A greater sweetness on these lips there grows,
Than breath shut out from a new-folded rose: 
What lovely charms on these cold cheeks appear! 
Could any one hate death, and see it here? 
But thou art gone—­

Mont.  O that you would believe Acacis lives in me, and cease to grieve.

Zemp.  Yes, I will cease to grieve, and cease to be. 
His soul stays watching in his wound for me;
All that could render life desired is gone,
Orazia has my love, and you my throne,
And death, Acacis—­yet I need not die,
You leave me mistress of my destiny;
In spite of dreams, how am I pleased to see,
Heaven’s truth, or falsehood, should depend on me! 
But I will help the Gods;
The greatest proof of courage we can give,
Is then to die when we have power to live. [Kills herself.

Mont.  How fatally that instrument of death Was hid—­

Amex.  She has expired her latest breath.

Mont.  But there lies one, to whom all grief is due.

Oraz.  None e’er was so unhappy and so true.

Mont.  Your pardon, royal sir.

Inca.  You have my love. [Gives him ORAZIA.

Amex.  The gods, my son, your happy choice approve.

Mont.  Come, my Orazia, then, and pay with me,
[Leads her to ACACIS. 
Some tears to poor Acacis’ memory;
So strange a fate for men the gods ordain,
Our clearest sunshine should be mixt with rain;
How equally our joys and sorrows move! 
Death’s fatal triumphs, joined with those of love. 
Love crowns the dead, and death crowns him that lives,
Each gains the conquest, which the other gives.
[Exeunt omnes.

EPILOGUE.

SPOKEN BY MONTEZUMA.

You see what shifts we are enforced to try,
To help out wit with some variety;
Shows may be found that never yet were seen,
’Tis hard to find such wit as ne’er has been: 
You have seen all that this old world can do,
We, therefore, try the fortune of the new,
And hope it is below your aim to hit