Mess. Stand to your guard, my lord, the danger's near: From every quarter crowds of people meet, And, leaving houses empty, fill the street.
[Exit Mess.
Trax. Fond queen, thy fruitless tears a while defer;
Rise, we must join again—Not speak, nor stir!
I hear the people's voice like winds that roar,
When they pursue the flying waves to shore.
Enter Second Messenger.
2 Mess. Prepare to fight, my lord; the banished queen, With old Garucca, in the streets are seen.
Trax. We must go meet them or it be too late; Yet, madam, rise; have you no sense of fate?
Enter third Messenger.
3 Mess. King Montezuma their loud shouts proclaim,
The city rings with their new sovereign's name;
The banished queen declares he is her son,
And to his succour all the people run.
[ZEMPOALLA rises.
Zemp. Can this be true? O love! O fate! have I Thus doated on my mortal enemy?