val, not my foe;
The prisoners fortune gave thee shall be thine.

_Trax_. Would you so great a prize to him resign?

_Aca_. Should he, who boldly for his prey designed
To dive the deepest under swelling tides,
Have the less title if he chance to find
The richest jewel that the ocean hides?
They are his due--
But in his virtue I repose that trust,
That he will be as kind as I am just:
Dispute not my commands, but go with haste,
Rally our men, they may pursue too fast,
And the disorders of the inviting prey
May turn again the fortune of the day.

[_Exit_ TRAX.

_Mont_. How gentle all this prince's actions be!
Virtue is calm in him, but rough in me.

_Aca_. Can Montezuma place me in his breast?

_Mont_. My heart's not large enough for such a guest.

_Aca_. See, Montezuma, see, Orazia weeps.

[ORAZ. _weeps_.

_Mont_. Acacis! is he deaf, or, waking, sleeps?
He does not hear me, sees me not, nor moves;
How firm his eyes are on Orazia fixt!
Gods, that take care of men, let not our loves
Become divided by their being mixt.

_Aca_. Weep not, fair princess, nor believe you are
A prisoner, subject to the chance of war;
Why should you waste the stock of those fair eyes,
That from mankind can take their liberties?
And you, great sir, think not a generous mind
To virtuous princes dares appear unkind,
Because those princes are unfortunate,
Since over all men hangs a doubtful fate:
One gains by what another is bereft;
The frugal deities have only left
A common bank of happiness below,
Maintained, like nature, by an ebb and flow.

[_Exeunt_.

SCENE II.

ZEMPOALLA _appears seated upon a throne, frowning
upon her attendants; then comes down and speaks.

Zemp_. No more, you, that above your prince's
dare proclaim,
With your rebellious breath, a stranger's name.

_1 Peru_. Dread empress--

_Zemp_. Slaves, perhaps you grieve to see
Your young prince glorious, 'cause he sprang from me;
Had he been one of base Amexia's brood,
Your tongues, though silent now, had then been
loud.

_Enter TRAXALLA_.

Traxalla, welcome; welcomer to me
Than what thou bring'st, a crown and victory.

_Trax_. All I have done is nothing; fluttering
fame
Now tells no news, but of the stranger's name,
And his great deeds; 'tis he, they cry, by whom
Not men, but war itself is overcome;
Who, bold with his success, dares think to have
A prince to wear his chains, and be his slave.

_Zemp_. What prince?

_Trax_. The great Per