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Dryden, John, 1631-1700

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


_Mont_. I hate thy offered mercy more than thee.
_Trax_. Why will not then the fair Orazia give
Life to herself, and let Traxalla live?
_Mont_. Orazia will not live, and let me die;
She taught me first this cruel jealousy.
_Oraz_. I joy that you have learned it!--
That flame not like immortal love appears.
Where death can cool its warmth, or kill its fears.
_Zemp_. What shall I do? am I so quite forlorn,
No help from my own pride, nor from his scorn!
My rival's death may more effectual prove;
He, that is robbed of hope, may cease to love:--
Here, lead these offerings to their deaths.
_Trax_. Let none
Obey but he, that will pull on his own!
_Zemp_. Tempt me not thus; false and ungrateful too!
_Trax_. Just as ungrateful, and as false, as you.
_Zemp_. 'Tis thy false love that fears her destiny.
_Trax_. And your false love that fears to have him die.
_Zemp_. Seize the bold traitor!
_Trax_. What a slighted frown
Troubles your brow! feared nor obeyed by none;
Come, prepare for sacrifice.
_Enter_ ACACIS _weakly_.
_Aca_. Hold, hold! such sacrifices cannot be
Devotions, but a solemn cruelty:
How can the gods delight in human blood?
Think them not cruel, if you think them good.
In vain we ask that mercy, which they want,
And hope that pity, which they hate to grant.


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