ffering, 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. Ze
|