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Show ig8 The Indian Emperour : Or, S C E N E IV. A Prifon. Cortez difcover%bound: Almeria talking with him. Aim. 1 come not »ow your conftancy to prove, You may believe m e when I fay, I Love. Cort. You have too well inftructed m e before, In your intentions to believe you more. Aim. I'm juftly plagu'd by this your unbelief, And am m y felf the caufe of m y own grief: But to beg Love, I cannot ftoop fo low; It is enough that you m y Paffion know : 'Tis in your choice ; Love me, or Love m e not, U~ays hold on the Dagger. I have not yet m y Brother's Death forgot. Cort. You Menace m e and Court m e in a breath : Your Cupid looks as dreadfully as Death. Aim. Your hopes, without, are vanifh'd into fmoke : Your Captains taken, and your Armies broke. Cort. In vain you urge m e with m y miferies : W h e n Fortune falls, High Courages can rife. N o w fhould I change m y Love, it would appear Not the Effect of Gratitude, but fear. Aim. I'll to the King and make it m y Requeft, Or m y Command that you may be releaft; And make you judge, when I have fet you free, W h o beft deferves your Paffion, I, or fhe. Cort. You tempt m y Faith fo generous a way, As without Guilt might Conftancy betray : But I'm fo far from meriting Efteem, That if I judge I muft m y felf condemn ; Yet having given m y worthlefs Heart before, What I muft ne'er poffefs I will adore; Take m y Devotion then this humbler way ; Devotion is the Love which Heaven w e pay. [Kjffes for Hand. Enter Cydaria. Cyd. M a y I believe m y Eyes I W h a t do I fee! Is this her Hate to him,' his Love to m e ! 'Tis in m y Breaft file fheaths her Dagger now. FalfeMan, is this the Faith ? Is this the V o w ? [To him. Cort. What words, dear Saint, are thefe I hear you ufe ? What Faith, what Vows are thofe which you accufe ? Cyd. More cruel than the Tyger o'er his Spoil; And falfer than the Weeping Crocodile : Can you add Vanity to Guilt, and take A Pride to hear the Conquefts which you make ? Go publifh your Renown, let it be faid You have a W o m a n , and that lov'd, betray'd. Cort. With what Injuftice is m y Faith accus'd ? Life, Freedom, Empire, I at once refus'd ; And would again ten thoufand times for you. Aim. She'll have too great Content to find him true; And therefore fince his Love is not for me I ielp to make m y Rival's Mifery. r 4n Spaniard, I never thought you falfe before: rr 1 Can you at once two Miftreffes adore ? L ° m' Keep the poor Soul no longer in fufpence, Your Change is fuch as does not need Defence A,*' ^ d k n like thefe l cannotunderftand ! o J * F e ! r L ^ ° T l d T,ou biu,01 ? She faw >'ou tlfs ™y**° Lyd. Fear not, I will, while your firft Love's deny'd Favour your Shame, and turn m y Eyes afide ; } IM yn eifteheebrl ec aHno pfuecsh iPno hweerr Dneofre rBtesa aurtey fbofota i•t • I have TIx Conqueft of Mexico. 139 I have no Tye upon you to be true, But that which loofned yours, m y Love to you. Cort. Could you have heard m y words! Cyd. Alas, what needs T o hear your Words, when I beheld your Deeds ? Cort. W h a t fhall I fay! the Fate of Love is fuch, That ftill it fees too little" or too much. That act of mine which does your Paffion mo W a s but a mark of m y refpect not Love. ^ Aim. Vex not your felfExcufes to prepare: For one you Love not is not worth your Care. Cort. Cruel Almeria, take that Lite you gave ; Since you but worfe deftroy me, while you fave. Cyd. N o , let m e die, and I'll m y Claim refign; For while I live, methinks you fhould be mine. Cort. T h e bloodieft Vengeance which fhe could purfue, Would be a Trifle to m y lots of you. Cyd. Your Change was wife: for had fhe been deny'd, A fwift Revenge had follow'd from her Pride : You from m y gentle Nature had no Fears, All m y Revenge is only in m y Tears. Cort. Can you imagine I fo mean could prove, T o fave m y Life by changing of m y Love ? Cyd. Since Death is that which nat'rally w e fhun, You did no more than I perhaps had done. Cort. Make m e not doubt, Fair Soul, your Conftancy ; You would have dy'd for Love, and fo would I. Aim. You may believe him; you have feen it prov'd. Cort. Can I not gain belief h o w I have lov'd ? What can thy Ends, malicious Beauty, be ? Can he w h o kill'd thy Brother live for thee ? [A noife of claflAng of Swords. ,r r v u « ,• [Vafquez within, Indians againft him. Vajq. Yield, Slaves, or die ; our Swords fhall force our way. [Within Ind. W e cannot, though o'er-power'd, our Truft betray. [Within. Cort. 'Tis Vafquez voice, he brings m e Liberty. Vafq. In fpight of Fate I'll fet m y Gen'ral free : [Withm. N o w Victory for us, the Town's our own. Aim. All hopes of Safety and of Love are gone : As when fome dreadful Thunder-clap is nigh, The winged Fire fhoots fwiftly through theSkie, Strikes and confumes e'er fcarce it does appear, And by the fudden 111, prevents the Fear : Such is m y State in this amazing W o e, It leaves no Pow'r to think, much lefs to do: But fhall m y Rival live ? Shall flic enjoy That Love in Peace I labour'd to deftroy ? [Afide, Cort. Her Looks grow black as a tempeftuous Wind ; Some raging Thoughts are rowling in her Mind Aim. Rival, I muft your Jcaloufy remove, You fhall, hereafter, be at reft for Love. Cyd. N o w you are kind. Aim. He w h o m you love is true : But he fhall never be poffefs'd by you. [Dratvs her Dagger, and runs toward her. Cort. Hold, hold ; Ah, barb'rous W o m a n ! fly, oh fly ! Cyd. Ah, pity, pity! is no fuccour nigh? Cort. Run, run behind me, there you may be fure, While I have Life I will your Life fecure. [Cydariagets behind L Aim. On him or thee, light Vengeance any where: [She /labs, and hurts him. What have I done ? I fee his Blood appear! Cyd. It ftreams, it ftreams from ev'ry Vital Part: W a s there no w a y but this to find his Heart? ThiAsi mW.e aApho n!'s [CPGuoorielnset d tf hoWa flolm amabi nhxe, r t hfwaehtla ftB, lw oaoasdn dmw biyet uhD.e m fiingen '?. |