Your valour may regain the public love,
And make the people's choice their queen's approve.
[_Shout_.
Hark, hark, what noise is this, that strikes my ear!
_Trax_. 'Tis not a sound that should beget a fear;
Such shouts as these have I heard often fly
From conquering armies, crowned with victory.
_Zemp_. Great God of vengeance, here I firmly vow,
Make but my Mexicans successful now,
And with a thousand feasts thy flames I'll feed;
And that I take shall on the altars bleed;
Princes themselves shall fall, and make thy shrine,
Died with their blood, in glorious blushes shine.
_Enter a Messenger_.
_Trax_. How now!
What news is this that makes thy haste a flight?
_Mess_. Such as brings victory without a fight.
The prince Acacis lives--
_Zemp_. Oh, I am blest!--
_Mess_. Reserve some joy till I have told the rest.
He's safe, and only wants his liberty:
But that great man, that carries victory
Where'er he goes; that mighty man, by whom
In three set battles we were overcome;
Ill used (it seems) by his ungrateful king,
Does to our camp his fate and valour bring.
The troop gaze on him, as if some bright star
Shot to their aids; call him the god of war:
Whilst he, as if all conquest did of right
Belong to him, bids them prepare to fight;
Which if they should delay one hour, he swears
He'll leave them to their dangers, or their fears,
And shame, which is the ignoble coward's choice.
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