Cort. You shall not, generous youths, contend for me: It is enough that I your honour see: But that your duty may no blemish take, I will myself your father's captive make: [Gives his sword to MONTEZUMA. When he dares strike, I am prepared to fall: The Spaniards will revenge their general.
Cyd. Ah, you too hastily your life resign, You more would love it, if you valued mine!
Cort. Despatch me quickly, I my death forgive;
I shall grow tender else, and wish to live;
Such an infectious face her sorrow wears,
I can bear death, but not Cydaria's tears.
Alm. Make haste, make haste, they merit death all three:
They for rebellion, and for murder he.
See, see, my brother's ghost hangs hovering there
O'er his warm blood, that steams into the air;
Revenge, revenge, it cries.
Mont. And it shall have;
But two days respite for his life I crave:
If in that space you not more gentle prove,
I'll give a fatal proof how well I love.
'Till when, you, Guyomar, your prisoner take;
Bestow him in the castle on the lake:
In that small time I shall the conquest gain
Of these few sparks of virtue which remain;
Then all, who shall my headlong passion see,
Shall curse my crimes, and yet shall pity me.
[Exeunt.
ACT IV.
SCENE I.—A prison.
Enter ALMERIA and an Indian; they speak entering.
Ind. A dangerous proof of my respect I show.