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?