Zemp. Go, you must resign: For she must be the gods'; not yours, nor mine.
Aca. You are my mother, and my tongue is tied
So much by duty, that I dare not chide.—
Divine Orazia!
Can you have so much mercy to forgive?
I do not ask it with design to live,
But in my death to have my torments cease:
Death is not death, when it can bring no peace.
Oraz. I both forgive, and pity;—
Aca. O, say no more, lest words less kind destroy
What these have raised in me of peace and joy:
You said, you did both pity and forgive;
You would do neither, should Acacis live.
By death alone the certain way appears,
Thus to hope mercy, and deserve your tears.
[Stabs himself.
Zemp. O, my Acacis! What cruel cause could urge this fatal deed?—
[Weeps.
He faints!—help, help! some help! or he will bleed
His life, and mine, away!—
Some water there!—Not one stirs from his place!
I'll use my tears to sprinkle on his face.
Aca. Orazia,—
Zemp. Fond child! why dost thou call upon her name? I am thy mother.