ZEMPOALLA _descends from her triumphant throne,
and_ ACACIS _and_ MONTEZUMA _are brought in before
her.
Zemp_. Shame of my blood, and traitor to thy own:
Born to dishonour, not command a throne!
Hast thou, with envious eyes, my triumph seen?
Or couldst not see thy mother in thy queen?
Couldst thou a stranger above me prefer?
_Aca_. It was my honour made my duty err;
I could not see his prisoners forced away,
To whom I owed my life, and you the day.
_Zemp_. Is that young man the warrior so renowned?
_Mont_. Yes, he, that made thy men thrice quit their ground.
Do, smile at Montezuma's chains; but know,
His valour gave thee power to use him so.
_Trax_. Grant that it did, what can his merits be,
That sought his vengeance, not our victory?
What has thy brutish fury gained us more,
Than only healed the wounds, it gave before?
Die then, for, whilst thou liv'st, wars cannot cease;
Thou may'st bring victory, but never peace.
Like a black storm thou roll'st about us all,
Even to thyself unquiet, till thy fall.
[_Draws to kill him_.
_Aca_. Unthankful villain, hold!
_Trax_. You must not give
Him succour, sir.
_Aca_. Why then, I must not live.
Posterity shall ne'er report, they had
Such thankless fathers, or a prince so bad.
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