joys and hopes away.
Amexia, by the assistance of the night,
When this dark deed was acted, took her flight;
Only with true Garucca for her aid:
Since when, for all the searches that were made,
The queen was never heard of more: Yet still
This traitor lives, and prospers by the ill:
Nor does my mother seem to reign alone,
But with this monster shares the guilt and throne.
Horror choaks up my words: now you'll believe,
'Tis just I should do nothing else but grieve.

_Mont_. Excellent prince!
How great a proof of virtue have you shown,
To be concerned for griefs, though not your own!

_Aca_. Pray, say no more.

_Enter a Messenger hastily_.

_Mont_. How now, whither so fast?

_Mess_. O sir, I come too slow with all my haste!
The fair Orazia--

_Mont_. Ha, what dost thou say?

_Mess_. Orazia with the Inca's forced away
Out of your tent; Traxalla, in the head
Of the rude soldiers, forced the door, and led,
Those glorious captives, who on thrones once shined,
To grace the triumph, that is now designed. [_Exit_.

_Mont_. Orazia forced away!--what tempests roll
About my thoughts, and toss my troubled soul!
Can there be gods to see, and suffer this?
Or does mankind make his own fate or bliss;
While every good and bad happens by chance,
Not from their orders, but their ignorance?--
I will pull a ruin on them all,
And turn their triumph to a funeral.

_Aca_. Be temperate, friend.

_Mont_. You may as well advise
That I should have less love, as grow more wise.

_Aca_. Yet stay--I did not think to have revealed
A secret, which my heart has still concealed;
But, in this cause since I must share with you,
'Tis fit you know--I love Orazia too:
Delay not then, nor waste the time in words,
Orazia's cause calls only for our swords.

_Mont_. That ties my hand, and turns from thee that rage
Another way, thy blood should else assuage:
The storm on our proud foes shall higher rise,
And, changing, gather blackness as it flies:
So, when winds turn, the wandering waves obey,
And all the tempest rolls another way.

_Aca_. Draw then a rival's sword, as I draw mine.
And, like friends suddenly to part, let's join
In this one act, to seek one destiny;
Rivals with honour may together die. [_Exeunt_.

ACT III. SCENE I.

ZEMPOALLA _appears seated upon her Slaves in triumph,
and the Indians, as to celebrate the victory,
advance in a warlike dance; in the midst of which
triumph_, ACACIS _and_ MONTEZUMA _fall in upo