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Dryden, John, 1631-1700

"The works of John Dryden, $c now first collected in eighteen volumes. $p Volume 02"


_Aca_. Stay, Montezuma, stay!--
Thy rival cannot let thee go alone,
My love will bear me, though my blood is gone.
[_As they are going off,_
_Enter_ ZEMPOALLA, TRAXALLA, _the Indian that
went to tell her, and the rest, and seize them_.
_Zemp_. Seize them!--
_Aca_. Oh, Montezuma, thou art lost.
_Mont_. No more, proud heart, thy useless courage boast!--
Courage, thou curse of the unfortunate!
That canst encounter, not resist, ill fate.
_Zemp_. Acacis bleeds!--
What barbarous hand has wounded thus my son?
_Mont_. 'Twas I; by my unhappy sword 'twas done.--
Thou bleed'st, poor prince, and I am left to grieve
My rival's fall.
_Trax_. He bleeds, but yet may live.
_Aca_. Friendship and love my failing strength renew;
I dare not die, when I should live for you;
My death were now my crime, as it would be
My guilt to live when I have set you free:
Thus I must still remain unfortunate,
Your life and death are equally my fate.
ORAZIA _comes back_.
_Oraz_. A noise again!--alas, what do I see!
Love, thou didst once give place to piety:
Now, piety, let love triumph awhile;--
Here, bind my hands: Come, Montezuma, smile
At fortune; since thou sufferest for my sake,
Orazia will her captive's chains partake.
_Mont_. Now, fate, thy worst.


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