[_Exeunt_ ZEMP. _and_ TRAX.
_Oraz_. How are things ordered, that the wicked should
Appear more kind and gentle than the good?
Her passion seems to make her kinder prove,
And I seem cruel through excess of love:
She loves, and would prevent his death; but I,
That love him better, fear he should not die.
My jealousy, immortal as my love,
Would rob my grave below, and me above,
Of rest.--Ye gods, if I repine, forgive!
You neither let me die in peace, nor live.
_Enter_ ACACIS, _Jailor, and Indian_.
_Jail_. They are just gone, sir.
_Aca_. 'Tis well: Be faithful to my just design,
And all thy prince's fortune shall be thine.
[_Exit_ ACACIS.
_Ind_. This shall to the empress. [_Exit Indian_.
_Oraz_. What can this mean!--
'Twas Prince Acacis, if I durst believe
My sight; but sorrow may like joy deceive:
Each object different from itself appears,
That comes not to the eyes, but through their tears.
_Enter_ ACACIS, _bringing in_ MONTEZUMA.
Ha!--
_Aca_. Here, sir, wear this again;--[_Gives a sword_.
Now follow me.
_Mont_. So, very good;--
I dare not think, for I may guess amiss;
None can deceive me while I trust in this. [_Exeunt_.
SCENE II.
_Enter_ ORAZIA, _conducted by two Indians with their
swords drawn;_ MONTEZUMA, ACACIS _whispering
another Indian_.
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