Trax. Now take your choice, and bid him live or die; To both shew pity, or shew cruelty: 'Tis you that must condemn, I'll only act; Your sentence is more cruel than my fact.

Oraz. You are most cruel, to disturb a mind, Which to approaching fate was so resigned.

Trax. Reward my passion, and you'll quickly prove There's none dare sacrifice what I dare love. Next to thee, stranger; wake, and now resign The bold pretences of thy love to mine, Or in this fatal minute thou shalt find—

Mont. Death, fool; in that thou may'st be just and kind: 'Twas I that loved Orazia, yet did raise The storm, in which she sinks: Why dost thou gaze, Or stay thy hand from giving that just stroke, Which, rather than prevent, I would provoke? When I am dead, Orazia may forgive; She never must, if I dare wish to live.

Oraz. Hold, hold—O Montezuma, can you be So careless of yourself, but more of me? Though you have brought me to this misery, I blush to say I cannot see you die.

Mont. Can my approaching fate such pity move? The gods and you at once forgive and love.

Trax. Fond fool, thus to mis-spend that little breath I lent thee to prevent, not hasten, death: Let her thank you she was unfortunate, And you thank her for pulling on your fate; Prove to each other your own destinies. [Draws.

Enter ZEMPOALLA hastily, and sets a dagger to ORAZIA'S breast.

Zemp. Hold, hold, Traxalla, or Orazia dies.— O, is't Orazia's name that makes you stay? 'Tis her great power, not mine, that you obey. Inhuman wretch, dar'st thou the murderer be Of him, that is not yet condemned by me?

Trax. The wretch, that gave you all the power you have, May venture sure to execute a slave; And quench a flame your fondness would have burn, Which may this city into ashes turn, The nation in your guilty passion lost; To me ungrateful, to your country most: But this shall be their offering, I their priest.

Zemp. The wounds, thou giv'st, I'll copy on her breast: Strike, and I'll open here a spring of blood, Shall add new rivers to the crimson flood. How his pale looks are fixed on her!—'tis so. Oh, does amazement on your spirits grow? What, is your public love Orazia's grown? Could'st thou see mine, and yet not hide thy own? Suppose I should strike first, would it not breed Grief in your public heart to see her bleed?

Trax. She mocks my passion; in her sparkling eyes Death, and a close dissembled fury lies: I dare not trust her thus. [Aside.]—If she must die, The way to her loved life through mine shall lie.

[He puts her by, and steps before ORAZIA; and she runs before MONTEZUMA.

Zemp. And he, that does this stranger's fate design, Must, to his heart, a passage force through mine.

Trax. Can fair Orazia yet no pity have? 'Tis just she should her own preserver save.

Zemp. Can Montezuma so ungrateful prove To her, that gave him life, and offers love?

Oraz. Can Montezuma live, and live to be Just to another, and unjust to me? You need not be ungrateful; can she give A life to you, if you refuse to live?— Forgive my passion; I had rather see You dead, than kind to any thing but me.

Mont. O, my Orazia! To what new joys and knowledge am I brought! Are death's hard lessons by a woman taught? How to despise my fate I always knew; But ne'er durst think, at once, of death and you: Yet since you teach this generous jealousy, I dare not wish your life, if I must die. How much your love my courage does exceed! Courage alone would shrink to see you bleed!

Zemp. Ungrateful stranger! thou shalt please thy eyes, And gaze upon Orazia while she dies!— I'll keep my vow!—It is some joy to see, That my revenge will prove my piety.

Trax. Then both shall die!—We have too long withstood, By private passions urged, the public good.

Zemp. Sure he dissembles; and, perhaps, may prove My ruin, with his new ambitious love: Were but this stranger kind, I'd cross his art, And give my empire, where I gave my heart. [Aside. Yet, thou ungrateful man, Let thy approaching ruin make thee wise.

Mont. Thee, and thy love, and mischief, I despise!

Zemp. What shall I do? Some way must yet be tried;— What reason can she use whom passions guide!

[Aside. Trax. Some black designs are hatching now:—False eyes Are quick to see another's treacheries.

[Aside. Zemp. Rash stranger, thus to pull down thy own fate!

Mont. You, and that life you offer me, I hate.

Enter Jailor.

Zemp. Here, jailor, take—What title must he have? Slave, slave!—Am I then captive to a slave?— Why art thou thus unwilling to be free?

Mont. Death will release me from these chains, and thee.

Zemp. Here, jailor, take this monster from my sight, And keep him where it may be always night. Let none come near him; if thou dost, expect To pay thy life, the price of the neglect.

Mont. I scorn thy pity, and thy cruelty; And should despise a blessing sent from thee.

Zemp. O, horror to my soul! take him away!— My rage, like dammed-up streams, swelled by some stay, Shall, from this opposition, get new force, And leave the bound of its old easy course.— Come, my Traxalla, let us both forgive, And in these wretches' fates begin to live. The altars shall be crowned with funeral boughs, Peace-offerings paid,—but with unquiet vows. [Exeunt ZEMP. and TRAX.

Oraz. How are things ordered, that the wicked should Appear more kind and gentle than the good? Her passion seems to make her kinder prove, And I seem cruel through excess of love: She loves, and would prevent his death; but I, That love him better, fear he should not die. My jealousy, immortal as my love, Would rob my grave below, and me above, Of rest.—Ye gods, if I repine, forgive! You neither let me die in peace, nor live.

Enter ACACIS, Jailor, and Indian.

Jail. They are just gone, sir.

Aca. 'Tis well: Be faithful to my just design, And all thy prince's fortune shall be thine. [Exit ACACIS.

Ind. This shall to the empress. [Exit Indian.

Oraz. What can this mean!— 'Twas Prince Acacis, if I durst believe My sight; but sorrow may like joy deceive: Each object different from itself appears, That comes not to the eyes, but through their tears.

Enter ACACIS, bringing in MONTEZUMA. Ha!—

Aca. Here, sir, wear this again;—[Gives a sword. Now follow me.

Mont. So, very good;— I dare not think, for I may guess amiss; None can deceive me while I trust in this. [Exeunt.