Enter ZEMPOALLA, TRAXALLA, the Indian that went to tell her, and the rest, and seize them.
Zemp. Seize them!—
Aca. Oh, Montezuma, thou art lost.
Mont. No more, proud heart, thy useless courage boast!— Courage, thou curse of the unfortunate! That canst encounter, not resist, ill fate.
Zemp. Acacis bleeds!— What barbarous hand has wounded thus my son?
Mont. 'Twas I; by my unhappy sword 'twas done.— Thou bleed'st, poor prince, and I am left to grieve My rival's fall.
Trax. He bleeds, but yet may live.
Aca. Friendship and love my failing strength renew;
I dare not die, when I should live for you;
My death were now my crime, as it would be
My guilt to live when I have set you free:
Thus I must still remain unfortunate,
Your life and death are equally my fate.
ORAZIA comes back.
Oraz. A noise again!—alas, what do I see!
Love, thou didst once give place to piety:
Now, piety, let love triumph awhile;—
Here, bind my hands: Come, Montezuma, smile
At fortune; since thou sufferest for my sake,
Orazia will her captive's chains partake.