_Aur._ Those fair ideas to my aid I'll call, And emulate my great original; Or, if they fail, I will invoke, in arms, The power of love, and Indamora's charms. _Emp._ I doubt the happy influence of your star; To invoke a captive's name bodes ill in war. _Aur._ Sir, give me leave to say, whatever now The omen prove, it boded well to you. Your royal promise, when I went to fight, Obliged me to resign a victor's right: Her liberty I fought for, and I won, And claim it, as your general, and your son. _Emp._ My ears still ring with noise; I'm vexed to death, Tongue-killed, and have not yet recovered breath; Nor will I be prescribed my time by you. First end the war, and then your claim renew; While to your conduct I my fortune trust, To keep this pledge of duty is but just. _Aur._ Some hidden cause your jealousy does move, Or you could ne'er suspect my loyal love. _Emp._ What love soever by an heir is shown, He waits but time to step into the throne; You're neither justified, nor yet accused; Meanwhile, the prisoner with respect is used. _Aur._ I know the kindness of her guardian such, I need not fear too little, but too much. But, how, sir, how have you from virtue swerved? Or what so ill return have I deserved? You doubt not me, nor have I spent my blood, To have my faith no better understood: Your soul's above the baseness of distrust: Nothing but love could make you so unjust. _Emp._ You know your rival then; and know 'tis fit, The son should to the father's claim submit. _Aur._ Sons may have rights which they can never quit. Yourself first made that title which I claim: First bade me love, and authorised my flame. _Emp._ The value of my gift I did not know: If I could give, I can resume it too. _Aur._ Recall your gift, for I your power confess. But first take back my life, a gift that's less. Long life would now but a long burthen prove: You're grown unkind, and I have lost your love. My grief lets unbecoming speeches fall: I should have died, and not complained at all. _Emp._ Witness, ye powers, How much I suffered, and how long I strove Against the assaults of this imperious love! I represented to myself the shame Of perjured faith, and violated fame; Your great deserts, how ill they were repaid; All arguments, in vain, I urged and weighed: For mighty love, who prudence does despise, For reason showed me Indamora's eyes. What would you more? my crime I sadly view, Acknowledge, am ashamed, and yet pursue. _Aur._ Since you can love, and yet your error see, The same resistless power may plead for me. With no less ardour I my claim pursue: I love, and cannot yield her even to you. _Emp._ Your elder brothers, though o'ercome, have right: The youngest yet in arms prepared to fight. But, yielding her, I firmly have decreed, That you alone to empire shall succeed.