_Zemp_. Hold!-- Who is it that commands;--ha! you, or I?-- Your zeal grows saucy!--sure, you may allow Your empress freedom first to pay her vow. _Trax_. She may allow--a justice to be done By him, that raised his empress to her throne. _Zemp_. You are too bold,-- _Trax_. And you too passionate. _Zemp_. Take heed, with his, you urge not your own fate.-- For all this pity is now due to me. _Mont_. I hate thy offered mercy more than thee. _Trax_. Why will not then the fair Orazia give Life to herself, and let Traxalla live? _Mont_. Orazia will not live, and let me die; She taught me first this cruel jealousy. _Oraz_. I joy that you have learned it!-- That flame not like immortal love appears. Where death can cool its warmth, or kill its fears. _Zemp_. What shall I do? am I so quite forlorn, No help from my own pride, nor from his scorn! My rival's death may more effectual prove; He, that is robbed of hope, may cease to love:-- Here, lead these offerings to their deaths. _Trax_. Let none Obey but he, that will pull on his own! _Zemp_. Tempt me not thus; false and ungrateful too! _Trax_. Just as ungrateful, and as false, as you. _Zemp_. 'Tis thy false love that fears her destiny. _Trax_. And your false love that fears to have him die. _Zemp_. Seize the bold traitor! _Trax_. What a slighted frown Troubles your brow! feared nor obeyed by none; Come, prepare for sacrifice. _Enter_ ACACIS _weakly_. _Aca_. Hold, hold! such sacrifices cannot be Devotions, but a solemn cruelty: How can the gods delight in human blood? Think them not cruel, if you think them good. In vain we ask that mercy, which they want, And hope that pity, which they hate to grant. _Zemp_. Retire, Acacis;-- Preserve thyself, for 'tis in vain to waste Thy breath for them: The fatal vow is past. _Aca_. To break that vow is juster than commit A greater crime, by your preserving it. _Zemp_. The gods themselves their own will best express To like the vow, by giving the success. _Aca_. If all things by success are understood, Men, that make war, grow wicked to be good: But did you vow, those that were overcome, And he that conquered, both, should share one doom? There's no excuse; for one of these must be Not your devotion, but your cruelty. _Trax_. To that rash stranger, sir, we nothing owe; What he had raised, he strove to overthrow: That duty lost, which should our actions guide, Courage proves guilt, when merits swell to pride. _Aca_. Darest thou, who didst thy prince's life betray, Once name that duty, thou hast thrown away? Like thy injustice to this stranger shown, To tax him with a guilt, that is thy own?-- Can you, brave soldiers, suffer him to die, That gave you life, in giving victory? Look but upon this stranger, see those hands, That brought you freedom, fettered up in bands. Not one looks up,-- Lest sudden pity should their hearts surprise, And steal into their bosoms through their eyes.