Piz. Is it possible? Rol. Can Pizarro be surprised at this? I thought forgiveness of injuries had been the Christian's precopt; thou seest, at least, it is the Peruvian's practice. Piz. Rolla, thou hast, indeed, surprised. -subdued me. Re-enter ELVIRA, not seeing Pizarro. Elv. Is it done? Is he dead? (Sees Pizarro.) How! still living! Then I am lost! And for you, wretched Peruvians! mercy is no more. Oh! Rolla, treacherous, or cowardly? Piz. How!-Can it be that Rol. Away! Elvira speaks she knows not what. -(Elvira.) Leave me, I conjure you, with Pizarro. Elv. How! Rolla, dost thou think I shall retract? or, that I meanly will deny, that in thy hand I placed a poniard to be plunged in that tyrant's heart? No! my sole regret is that I trusted to thy weakness, and did not strike the blow myself. Too soon thou'lt learn, that mercy to that man is direct cruelty to all thy race. Piz. Guard! quick! a guard! to seize this frantic woman. Elv. Yes, a guard! I call them too. And soon I know they'll lead me to my death. But think not, Pizarro, the fury of thy flashing eyes shall awe me for a moment; nor think that woman's anger, or the feelings of an injured heart, prompted me to this design. No! had I been only influenced so, thus failing, shame and remorse would weigh me down. But, though defeated and destroyed, as now I am, such is the greatness of the cause that urged me, I shall perish, glorying in the attempt, and my last breath of life shall speak the proud avowal of my purpose,-to have rescued millions of innocents from the blood-thirsty tyranny of one, by ridding the insulted world of thee! Rol. Had the act been noble as the motive, Rolla would not have shrunk from its performance. Enter Guards. Piz. Seize this discovered fiend, who sought to kill your leader. Rol. From my soul, I do pity thee. Piz. Villains! drag her to the dungeon-prepare the torture instantly. Elv. Soldiers! but a moment more: 'tis to applaud your general; it is to tell the astonished world, that, for once, Pizarro's sentence, is an act of justice. Yes; rack me with the sharpest torture that ever agonized the human frame, it will be justice. Yes; bid the minions of thy fury wrench forth the sinews of those arms that have caressed, and even have defended thee! Bid them pour burning metal into the bleeding cases of these eyes, that so oft, oh, God! have hung with love and homage on thy looks; then approach me, bound on the abhorred wheel; there glut thy savage eyes with the convulsive spasms of that dishonoured bosom, which was once thy pillow! Yet, will Ibear it all; for, it will be justice all! And when thou shalt bid them tear me to my death, hoping that thy unshrinking ears may, at last be feasted with the music of my cries, I will not utter one shriek or groan; but, to the last gasp, my body's patience shall deride thy vengeance, as my soul defles thy power. Piz. Hearest thou the wretch, whose hands were even now prepared for murder? Rol. Yes; and if her accusations be false, thou wilt not shrink from hearing her; if true, thy barbarity cannot make her suffer the pangs thy conscience will inflict on thee. Elv. And now farewell, world! Rolla, farewell (To Pizarro.) Farewell, thou condemned of heaven. For repentance and remorse, I know, will never touch thy heart. We shall meet again. Ha! be it thy horror here to know, that we shall meet hereafter. And when thy parting hour approaches, hark to the knell, whose dreadful beat will strike to thy despairing soul. Then will vibrate on thy ear the curses of the cloistered saint from whom you stole me. Then the last shriek which burst from my mother's breaking heart, as she died, appealing to her God against the seducer of her child Then the blood-stifled groan of my murdered brother, murdered by thee, fell monster!-seeking atonement for his sister's ruined honour. I hear them now. To me the recollection's madness! At such an hour, what will it be to thee? Piz. A moment's more delay, and at the peril of your lives Elv. I have spoken, and the last mortal frailty of my heart is past. And now, with an undaunted spirit, and unshaken firmness, I go to, meet my destiny. That I could not live nobly, has been Pizarro's act; that I will die nobly, shall be my [Exit, guarded. own. Piz. I would not thou, a warrior, valiant and renowned, shouldst credit the vile tales of this frantic woman. The cause of all this fury-Oh! a wanton passion for the rebel youth, Alonzo, now my prisoner. Rol. Alonzo is not now thy prisoner. Ev. Touch me not, at the peril of your souls. I Piz. Why am I not obeyed? Tear her hence. Rol. I came to rescue him,-to deceive his guard. Rol. Dismiss such passions from thy heart, then thou'lt consult its peace. Piz. I can face all enemies that dare confront me Rol. Then, Pizarro, ask not to be deemed a hero. To triumph o'er ourselves, is the only conquest where fortune makes no claim. In battle, chance may snatch the laurel from thee, or chance may place it on thy brow; but, in a contest with thyself, be resolute, and the virtuous impulse must be the victor. Piz. Peruvian! thou shalt not find me to thee ungrateful or ungenerous. Return to thy countrymen; thou art at liberty. Rol. Thou dost act in this, as honour and as duty bid thee. Piz. I cannot but admire thee, Rolla; I would we might be friends. Rol. Farewell! Pity Elvira, become the friend of virtue, and thou wilt be mine. [Exit. Piz. Ambition! tell me what is the phantom I have followed? where is the one delight which it has made my own? My fame is the mark of envy ; my love, the dupe of treachery; my glory eclipsed by the boy I taught; my revenge defeated and rebuked by the rude honour of a savage foe, before whose native dignity of soul I have sunk, confounded and subdued. I would I could retrace my steps-I cannot. Would I could evade my own reflections. No; thought and memory are my hell! ACT V. [Exit SECNE L-A. thick Forest. In the back-ground, a hut. A dreadful storm. CORA has covered her child on a bed of leaves and moss. Cora. Oh! nature thou hast not the strength of love. My anxious spirit is untired in its march; my wearied, shivering frame sinks under it. And for thee, my boy, when faint beneath thy lovely burden, could I refuse to give thy slumbers that poor bed of rest? Oh! my child, were I assured thy father breathes no more, how quickly would I lay me down by thy dear side-But, down, down for ever. (Thunder and lightning.) I ask thee not, unpitying storm, to abate thy rage, in mercy to poor Cora's misery! nor while thy thunders spare his slumbers, will I disturb my sleeping cherub; though heaven knows I wish to hear the voice of life, and feel that life is near me. But, I will en dure all, while what I have of reason holds.(Thunder and lightning.) Still, still, implacable!unfeeling elements. Yet still dost thou sleep, my smiling innocent.-Oh! death, when wilt thou grant to this babe's mother such repose ?-Surely, I may shield thee better from the storm: my veil may 1 Sol. I tell you we are near our outposts, and the word we heard just now was the countersign. 2 Sol. Well, in our escape from the enemy, to have discovered their secret passage through the rocks, will prove a lucky chance to us, Pizarro will reward us. 1 Sol. This way: the sun, though cloudy, is on our left. (Perceives the child.) What have we here? A child! as I'm a soldier. 2 Sol. 'Tis a sweet little babe. Now would it be a great charity to take this infant from is Pagan mother's power. 1 Sol. It would so. I have one at home shall play with it. Come along. [Takes the Child. Exeunt. Re-enter CORA with ALONZO. Cora. This way, dear Alonzo. Now am I right? There-there-under that tree. Was it possible the instinct of a mother's heart could mistake the spot. Now, will you look at him as he sleeps, or shall I bring him waking with his full blue laughing Staud eyes to welcome you at once? Yes, yes. thou there; I'll snatch him from his resy slumber, (She runs up to blushing like the perfumed morn. the spot, and finding only the mantle and veil, which she tears from the ground, and the child gine, she shrieks.) Al. (Running to her.) Cora, my heart's beloved! Cora. He is gone! Al. Eternal God! Cora. He is gone! My child! my child! Cora. (Dashes herself on the spot.) Here! Al. Be calm, beloved Cora. He has awaked, and crept to a little distance. We shall find him. Are you assured this was the spot you left him in? Cora. Did not these hands make that bed, and shelter for him? And is not this the veil that covered him? Al. Here is a hut yet unobserved. Cora. Ha! yes, yes; there lives the savage that has robbed me of my child. (Beats at the door, exclaiming) Give me back my child, restore to me my boy! Enter LAS-CASAS from the hut. Las-C. Who calls me from my wretched solitude? Cora. Give me back my child! (Goes into the hut, and calls) Fernando! Al. Almighty Powers! do my eyes deceive me? Las-Casas! Las-C. Alonzo! my beloved young friend! Al. My reverend instructor! (Embracing.) Cora. (Returned.) Will you embrace this man before he restores my boy? Al. Alas! my friend, in what a moment of misery do we meet! Cora. Yet, his look is goodness and humanity. Good old man, have compassion on a wretched mother, and I will be your servant while I live. But, do not, for pity's sake, do not say you have him not; do not say you have not seen him. Las-C. What can this mean? [Runs into the wood. Al. She is my wife. Just rescued from the Spaniard's prison, I learned she had fled to this wild forest. Hearing my voice, she left the child, and flew to meet me: he was left sleeping under yonder tree. Las-C. How! Did you leave him? (Cora returns.) Cora. Oh, you are right! right! Unnatural mother that I was, I left my child-I forsook my innocent? But, I will fly to the earth's brink, but I will find him. (Runs out.) Al. Forgive me, Las-Casas, I must follow her, for at night I attempt brave Rolla's rescue. Las-C. I will not leave thee, Alonzo! You must try to lead her to the right: that way lies the camp, Wait not my infirm steps. I will follow thee, Liy friend. [Exeunt. SCENE IL-The Outpost of the Spanish Camp. In | sink into the barren sand the background, a foaming torrent, over which is a rude bridge, formed by a felled tree. (Trumpets sound without.) Alm. (Within.) Bear him along; his story must be false. Enter ALMAGRO.-ROLLA, in chains, brought in by Soldiers. eager hope that now tren heart, 'twill rise to the com humanity, and cry aloud fo cursed destroyer's head. Piz. Be that peril mine. Rol. (Throwing himself at thy feet. Me, Rolla!-Me life!-Me, that have never fore created man!-In hun Rol. False! Rolla utter falsehood! I would had thee in a desert, with thy troop around thee-prostrate, I implore you and I but with my sword in this unshackled hand (Trumpets without.) Alm. Is it to be credited, that Rolla, the renowned Peruvian hero, should be detected, like a spy, skulking through our camp? Rol. But answer to the general. He is here. and I will be your slave. Piz. Rolla, still art thou f mains with me. Rol. Then was this sw thine! (Seizes the Child.) follow me, dies upon the s Piz. Pursue him instan [Exeunt Almagro and Soldie defends himself! Ha! he -and now Enter ALM Alm. Three of your bra victims to your command life; and, if he once gain t Piz. Spare him no long guns must reach him, H to those horse. The Peruv he turns among the rocks; off. (Rolla crosses the wood ract, pursued by the Soldier strikes him.) Now, quick, (Rolla tears from the rock the bridge, and retreats by th the child.) Re-enter AL Alm. By hell! he has e child unhurt. Dav. No; he bears his d me, I saw him struck upon Piz. But, the child is s Oh! the furies of disappoi Alm. Away with the re to deeds. Forget not we b Piz. Silence! imprudent! Seest thou not-ledge of the secret pass, w (Pointing to Rolla.) Dav. In their way, they found a Peruvian child, cavern's gloom, brings yo hold, where are lodged Piz. Right, Almagro! draw forth a daring and c wait for numbers. Stay, A formed Elvira dies to-day Alm. He is; and one req Piz. I'll hear of none. Alm. The boon is small ciate habit which you fir wishes not to suffer in the remind her of her shame. Piz. Well, do as thou w our return, as his life shall that she is dead. SCENE III-A Cora. Oh! avoid me not. to her king, is the wretche griefs! The gods refuse t not my Alonzo fight for sweet boy, if thou'll but re fight thy battles too? 1 Al. Oh, my suffering love! my poor heart-broken Cora! you but wound our sovereign's feeling soul, ard not relieve your own. Cora. Is he our sovereign and has he not the pover to give me back my child? ta. When I reward desert, or can relieve my people, I feel what is the real glory of a king; when I hear them suffer, and cannot aid them, I mourn the impotence of all mortal power. Voices behind. Rolla! Rolla! Rolla! Enter ROLLA, bleeding, with the child, followed by Peruvians. Rol. Thy child! (Gives the Child into Cora's arms, and falls.) Cora. Oh, God, there's blood upon him! Al. Rolla, thou diest! Rol. For thee and Cora! Enter ORANO. (Dies.) Ora. Treachery has revealed our asylum in the rocks. Even now, the foe assails the peaceful band, retired for protection there. Al. Lose not a moment. Swords, be quick! Your wives and children cry to you. Bear our loved hero's body in the van; 'twill raise the fury of our men to madness. Now, fell Pizarro! the death of one of us is near. Away! Be the word of assault, Revenge and Rolla! [Exeunt.-Charge. SCENE IV.-A Recess among the rocks. Enter PIZARRO, ALMAGRO, VALVERDE, and Spanish Soldiers. Piz. Well, if surrounded, we must perish in the centre of them. Where do Rolla and Alonzo hide their heads? Enter ALONZO, ORANO, and Peruvians. Al. Alonzo answers thee, and Alonzo's sword shall speak for Rolla. Piz. Thou know'st the advantage of thy numbers: thou dar'st not singly face Pizarro. Al. Peruvians, stir not a man. Be this contest only ours. Piz. Spaniards, observe ye the same. (Charge. They fight. Alonzo's shield is broken, and he is beaten down.) Now, traitor, to thy heart! (At this moment, ELVIRA enters, habited as when Pizarro first beheld her. Pizarro appalled, staggers back. Alonzo renews the fight, and slays him.) ATALIBA enters, and embraces Alonzo. Ata. My brave Alonzo! Alm. Alonzo, we submit. Spare us: we will embark, and leave the coast. Val. Elvira will confess I saved her life; she has saved thine. Al. Fear not. You are safe. (Spaniards lay down their arms.) Elv. Valverde speaks the truth; nor could he think to meet me here. An awful impulse, which my soul could not resist, impelled me hither. Al. Noble Elvira! my preserver! How can I speak what I, Ataliba, and his rescued country. owe to thee? If, amidst this grateful nation thou wouldst remain Elv. Alonzo, no! The destination of my future life is fixed. Humbled in penitence, I will endeavour to atone the guilty errors, which, however masked by shallow cheerfulness, have long con sumed my secret heart. When, by my sufferings, purified, and penitence sincere, my soul shall dare address the throne of mercy in behalf of others, for thee, Alonzo, for thy Cora, and thy child; for thee, thou virtuous monarch, and the innocent race thou reignest over, shall Elvira's prayers address the God of nature. Valverde, you have preserved my life. Cherish humanity; avoid the foul examples thou hast viewed. Spaniards, returning to your native home, assure your rulers they mistake the road to glory, or to power. Tell them, that the pursuits of avarice, conquest, and ambition, never yet made a people happy, or a nation great. (Custs a last look of agony at the dead body of Pizarro, as she passes and exit. Flourish of trumpets, Valverde, Alma go, and Spanish Soldiers, exeunt bearing off Pizarro's body.) Al. Ataliba, think not I wish to check the voice of triumph, when I entreat we first pay the tribute due to our loved Rolla's memory. A solemn march. Procession of Peruvian Soldiers, bearing Rolla's body on a bier, surrounded by military trophies. The Priests and Priestesses attending, chant a dirge over the bier. Alonzo and Cora kneel on either side of it, and kiss Rolla's hands in silent agony. In the looks of the King, and of all present, the triumph of the day is lost in mourning for the fallen hero. The curtain slowly descends. DIRGE-Priests and Priestesses. Let tears of gratitude and wce, that looks for all the w never see company. O the lame dancing-mas Oddfish, the curate's w ment, your old stories Duke of Marlborough. trumpery. Hard. And I love it old: old friends, old tir old wine; and I believe you'll own I have been Mrs. H. Lud! Mr. Ha your Dorothys, and yo a Darby, but I'll be no not so old as you'd m good year. Add twen money of that. Hard. Let me see; t just fifty and seven. Mrs H. It's false, |