_Zemp_. Honour is but an itch of youthful blood, Of doing acts extravagantly good; We call that virtue, which is only heat That reigns in youth, till age finds out the cheat. _Aca_. Great actions first did her affections move, And I, by greater, would regain her love. _Zemp_. Urge not a suit which I must still deny; Orazia and her father both shall die: Begone, I'll hear no more. _Aca_. You stop your ears-- But though a mother will not, Heaven will hear; Like you I vow, when to the powers divine You pay her guiltless blood, I'll offer mine. [_Exit_. _Zemp_. She dies, this happy rival, that enjoys The stranger's love, and all my hopes destroys; Had she triumphed, what could she more have done, Than robbed the mother, and enslaved the son? Nor will I, at the name of cruel, stay: Let dull successive monarchs mildly sway: Their conquering fathers did the laws forsake, And broke the old, ere they the new could make, I must pursue my love; yet love, enjoyed, Will, with esteem, that caused it first, grow less: But thirst and hunger fear not to be cloyed, And when they be, are cured by their excess. _Enter_ TRAXALLA. _Trax_. Now I shall see, what thoughts her heart conceals; For that, which wisdom covers, love reveals. [_Aside_. Madam, the prisoners are disposed. _Zemp_. They are? And how fares our young blustering man of war? Does he support his chains with patience yet? _Trax_. He, and the princess, madam-- _Zemp_. Are they met? _Trax_. No: but from whence is all this passion grown? _Zemp_. 'Twas a mistake. _Trax_. I find this rash unknown Is dangerous; and, if not timely slain, May plunge your empire in new wars again. _Zemp_. Thank ye; I shall consider. _Trax_. Is that all? The army doat on him, already call You cruel; and, for aught I know, they may By force unchain, and crown him in a day. _Zemp_. You say, I have already had their curse For his bad usage; should I use him worse? _Trax_. Yet once you feared his reputation might Obscure the prince's in the people's sight. _Zemp_. Time will inform us best what course to steer, But let us not our sacred vows defer: The Inca and his daughter both shall die. _Trax_. He suffers justly for the war; but why Should she share his sad fate? A poor pretence, That birth should make a crime of innocence. _Zemp_. Yet we destroy the poisonous viper's young, Not for themselves, but those from whom they sprung. _Trax_. O no, they die not for their parents' sake, But for the poisonous seed which they partake. Once more behold her, and then let her die, If in that face or person you can see But any place to fix a cruelty. The heavens have clouds, and spots are in the moon; But faultless beauty shines in her alone. _Zemp_. Beauty has wrought compassion in your mind! _Trax_. And you to valour are become as kind. To former services there's something due, Yet be advised-- _Zemp_. Yes, by myself, not you. _Trax_. Princes are sacred.