[Exit Guyomar, with guards.
Vasq. A glorious day! and bravely was it fought;
Great fame our general in great dangers sought;
From his strong arm I saw his rival run,
And, in a crowd, the unequal combat shun.
Enter Cortez leading Cydaria, who seems crying and begging of him.
Cort. Man's force is fruitless, and your gods would fail
To save the city, but your tears prevail;
I'll of my fortune no advantage make,
Those terms, they had once given, they still may take.
Cyd. Heaven has of right all victory designed, Where boundless power dwells in a will confined; Your Spanish honour does the world excel.
Cort. Our greatest honour is in loving well.
Cyd. Strange ways you practise there, to win a heart; Here love is nature, but with you 'tis art.
Cort. Love is with us as natural as here,
But fettered up with customs more severe.
In tedious courtship we declare our pain,
And, ere we kindness find, first meet disdain.
Cyd. If women love, they needless pains endure; Their pride and folly but delay their cure.
Cort. What you miscall their folly, is their care;
They know how fickle common lovers are:
Their oaths and vows are cautiously believed,
For few there are but have been once deceived.