_Gar_. You spent in shady forest all the day, And joyed, returning, to shew me the prey, To tell the story, to describe the place, With all the pleasures of the boasted chace; Till fit for arms, I reaved you from your sport, To train your youth in the Peruvian court: I left you there, and ever since have been The sad attendant of my exiled queen. _Zemp_. My fatal dream comes to my memory; That lion, whom I held in bonds, was he, Amexia was the dove that broke his chains; What now but Zempoalla's death remains? _Mont_. Pardon, fair princess, if I must delay My love a while, my gratitude to pay. Live, Zempoalla--free from dangers live, For present merits I past crimes forgive: Oh, might she hope Orazia's pardon, too! _Oraz_. I would have none condemned for loving you; In me her merit much her fault o'erpowers; She sought my life, but she preserved me yours. _Amex_. Taught by my own, I pity her estate, And wish her penitence, but not her fate. _Inca_. I would not be the last to bid her live; Kings best revenge their wrongs, when they forgive. _Zemp_. I cannot yet forget what I have been: Would you give life to her, that was a queen? Must you then give, and must I take? there's yet One way, that's by refusing, to be great: You bid me live--bid me be wretched too; Think, think, what pride, unthroned, must undergo: Look on this youth, Amexia, look, and then Suppose him yours, and bid me live again; A greater sweetness on these lips there grows, Than breath shut out from a new-folded rose: What lovely charms on these cold cheeks appear! Could any one hate death, and see it here? But thou art gone-- _Mont_. O that you would believe Acacis lives in me, and cease to grieve. _Zemp_. Yes, I will cease to grieve, and cease to be. His soul stays watching in his wound for me; All that could render life desired is gone, Orazia has my love, and you my throne, And death, Acacis--yet I need not die, You leave me mistress of my destiny; In spite of dreams, how am I pleased to see, Heaven's truth, or falsehood, should depend on me! But I will help the Gods; The greatest proof of courage we can give, Is then to die when we have power to live. [_Kills herself_. _Mont_. How fatally that instrument of death Was hid-- _Amex_. She has expired her latest breath. _Mont_. But there lies one, to whom all grief is due. _Oraz_. None e'er was so unhappy and so true. _Mont_. Your pardon, royal sir. _Inca_. You have my love. [_Gives him ORAZIA_. _Amex_. The gods, my son, your happy choice approve. _Mont_. Come, my Orazia, then, and pay with me, [_Leads her to ACACIS_. Some tears to poor Acacis' memory; So strange a fate for men the gods ordain, Our clearest sunshine should be mixt with rain; How equally our joys and sorrows move! Death's fatal triumphs, joined with those of love. Love crowns the dead, and death crowns him that lives, Each gains the conquest, which the other gives. [_Exeunt omnes_. EPILOGUE. SPOKEN BY MONTEZUMA.