_The Scene opens, and discovers the Temple of the Sun, all of gold, and four Priests, in habits of white and red feathers, attending by a bloody altar, as ready for sacrifice. Then enter the Guards_, ZEMPOALLA, _and_ TRAXALLA; _Inca_, ORAZIA, _and_ MONTEZUMA,_ bound. As soon as they are placed, the Priest sings_. SONG. _You to whom victory we owe, Whose glories rise By sacrifice, And from our fates below; Never did your altars shine Feasted with blood so near divine; Princes to whom we bow, As they to you:-- Thus you can ravish from a throne, And, by their loss of power, declare your own._ _Zemp_. Now to inflict those punishments, that are Due to the authors of invasive war; Who, to deceive the oppressed world, like you, Invent false quarrels to conceal the true. _Inca_. My quarrel was the same, that all the gods Must have to thee, if there be any odds Betwixt those titles that are bad or good, To crowns descended, or usurped by blood:-- Swell not with this success; 'twas not to thee, But to this man, the gods gave victory. _Mont_. Since I must perish by my own success, Think my misfortunes more, my crimes the less; And so, forgiving, make me pleased to die, Thus punished for this guilty victory. _Inca_. Death can make virtue easy; I forgive: That word would prove too hard, were I to live; The honour of a prince would then deny, But in the grave all our distinctions die. _Mont_. Forgive me one thing yet; to say, I love, Let it no more your scorn and anger move; Since, dying in one flame, my ashes must Embrace and mingle with Orazia's dust. _Inca_. Name thy bold love no more, lest that last breath, Which should forgive, I stifle with my death. _Oraz_. Oh, my dear father! Oh, why may not I, Since you gave life to me, for you now die? _Mont_. 'Tis I, that wrought this mischief, ought to fall A just and willing sacrifice for all. Now, Zempoalla, be both just and kind, And, in my fate, let me thy mercy find: Be grateful, then, and grant me that esteem, That as alive, so dead, I may redeem. _Oraz_. O, do not for her cruel mercy move; None should ask pity but from those they love. [_Weeps_. _Inca_. Fond girl! to let thy disobedient eyes Show a concern for him, whom I despise. _Oraz_. How love and nature may divide a breast, At once by both their powers severely prest! Yet, sir, since love seems less, you may forgive; I would not have you die, nor have him live; Yet if he dies, alas! what shall I do? I cannot die with him, and live with you. _Mont_. How vainly we pursue this generous strife, Parting in death more cruel than in life!-- Weep not, we both shall have one destiny; As in one flame we lived, in one we'll die. _Trax_. Why do we waste in vain these precious hours? Each minute of his life may hazard ours: The nation does not live whilst he enjoys His life, it is his safety that destroys. He shall fall first, and teach the rest to die.