Piz. Las-Casas!
Las-Cas. Pizarro, hear me! — Hear me, chieftains! — And thou, All-powerful! whose thunders can shiver into sand the adamantine rock — whose lightnings can pierce to the core of the rived and quaking earth — Oh! let thy power give effect to thy servant’s words, as thy spirit gives courage to his will! Do not, I implore you, chieftains — countrymen — do not, I implore you, renew the foul barbarities which your insatiate avarice has inflicted on this wretched, unoffending race! — But hush, my sighs — fall not, drops of useless sorrow! — heart-breaking anguish, choke not my utterance — All I en-, treat is, send me once more to those you your enemies — Oh! let me be the messenger of penitence from you; I shall return with blessings and with peace from them. — Elvira, you weep! — Alas! and does this dreadful crisis move no heart but thine?
Alm. Because there are no women here but she and thou.
Piz. Close this idle war of words: time flies, and our opportunity will be lost. Chieftains, are ye for instant battle?
Alm. We are.
Las-Cas. Oh, men of blood! — [Kneels.] God! thou hast anointed me thy servant-not to curse, but to bless my countrymen: yet now my blessing on their force were blasphemy against thy goodness. — [Rises.] No! I curse your purpose, homicides! I curse the bond of blood by which you are united. May fell division, infamy, and rout, defeat your projects and rebuke your hopes! On you, and on your children, be the peril of the innocent blood which shall be shed this day! I leave you, and for ever! No longer shall these aged eyes be seared by the horrors they have witnessed. In caves, in forests, will I hide myself) with tigers and with savage beasts will I commune: and when at length we meet again before the blessed tribunal of that Deity, whose mild doctrines and whose mercies ye have this day renounced, then shall you feel the agony and grief of soul which tear the bosom of your accuser now! — [Going.
Elv. Las-Casas! Oh! take me with thee, Las-Casas.
Las-Cas. Stay! lost, abused lady! I alone am useless here. Perhaps thy loveliness may persuade to pity, where reason and religion plead in vain. Oh! save thy innocent fellow-creatures if thou canst: then shall thy frailty be redeemed, and thou wilt share the mercy thou bestowest.
[Exit.
Piz. How, Elvira! wouldst thou leave me?
Elv. I am bewildered, grown terrified! — Your inhumanity — and that good Las-Casas — oh! he appeared to me just now something more than heavenly: and you! ye all looked worse than earthly.
Piz. Compassion sometimes becomes a beauty.
Elv. Humanity always becomes a conqueror.
Alm. Well! Heaven be praised, we are rid of the old moralist.
Gon. I hope he’ll join his preaching pupil, Alonzo.
Piz. Now to prepare our muster and our march. At mid-day is the hour of the sacrifice. Consulting with our guides, the route of your divisions shall be given to each commander. If we surprise, we conquer; and if we conquer, the gates of Quito will be open to us.
Alm. And Pizarro then be monarch of Peru.
Piz. Not so fast — ambition for a time must take counsel from discretion. Ataliba still must hold the shadow of a sceptre in his hand. — Pizarro still appear dependent upon Spain: while the pledge of future peace, his daughters hand, secures the proud succession to the crown I seek.
Alm. This is best. In Pizarro’s plans observe the statesman’s wisdom guides the warrior’s valour. —
Val. [To ELVIRA.] YOU mark, Elvira?
Elv. O, yes — this is best — this is excellent.
Piz. You seem offended. Elvira still retains my heart. Think — a sceptre waves me on.
Elv. Offended? — No! — Thou know’st thy glory is my idol; and this will be most glorious, most just and honourable.
Piz. What mean you?
Elv. Oh! nothing — mere woman’s prattle — a jealous whim, perhaps: but let it not impede the royal hero’s course. — [Trumpets without,]
The call of arms invites you — Away! away! you, his brave, his worthy fellow-warriors.
Piz. And go you not with me?
Elv. Undoubtedly! I needs must be the first to hail the future monarch of Peru.
Enter GOMEZ.
Alm. How, Gomez! what bring’st thou?
Gom. On yonder hill-among the palm-trees we have surprised an old cacique: escape by flight he could not, and we seized him and his attendant unresisting; yet his lips breathe naught but bitterness and scorn.
Piz. Drag him before us.
[GOMEZ leaves the tent, and returns, conducting OROZEMBO and Attendant, in guarded.
What art thou, stranger?
Oro. First tell me which among you is the captain of this band of robbers.
Piz. Ha! —
Alm. Madman! — Tear out his tongue, or else —
Oro. Thou’lt hear some truth.
Dav. [Showing his poniard.] Shall I not plunge this into his heart?
Oro. [To PIZARRO.] Does your army boast many such heroes as this? —
Piz. Audacious! — This insolence has sealed thy doom. Die thou shalt, gray-headed ruffian. But first confess what thou knowest.
Oro. I know that which thou hast just assured me of — that I shall die. —
Piz. Less audacity perhaps might have preserved thy life.
Oro. My life is as a withered tree — it is not worth preserving.
Piz. Hear me, old man. Even now we march against the Peruvian army. We know there is a secret path that leads to your strong-hold among the rocks: guide us to that, and name thy reward. If wealth be thy wish —
Oro. Ha! ha! ha! ha!
Piz. Dost thou despise my offer?
Oro. Thee and thy offer! — Wealth! — I have the wealth of two dear gallant sons — I have stored in heaven the riches which repay good actions here — and still my chiefest treasure do I bear about me.
Piz. What is that? Inform me.
Oro. I will; for it never can be thine — the treasure of a pure unsullied conscience.
Piz. I believe there is no other Peruvian who dares speak as thou dost.
Oro. Would I could believe there is no other Spaniard who dares act as thou dost!
Gon. Obdurate Pagan! — How numerous is your army?
Oro. Count the leaves of yonder forest.
Alm. Which is the weakest part of your camp?
Oro. It has no weak part — on every side ’tis fortified by justice.
Piz. Where have you concealed, your wives and your children?
Oro. In the hearts of their husbands and their fathers.
Piz. Know’st thou Alonzo?
Oro. Know him! — Alonzo! — Know him! — Our nation’s benefactor! — The guardian angel of Peru! —
Piz. By what has he merited that title?
Oro. By not resembling thee.
Alm. Who is this Rolla, joined with Alonzo in command?
Oro. I will answer that; for I love to hear and to repeat the hero’s name. Rolla, the kinsman of the king, is the idol of our army; in war a tiger, chafed by the hunter’s spear; in peace more gentle than the unweaned lamb. Cora was once betrothed to him; but finding she preferred Alonzo, he resigned his claim, and, I fear, his peace, to friendship and to Cora’s happiness; yet still he loves her with a pure and holy fire.
Piz. Romantic savage! — I shall meet this Rolla soon.
Oro. Thou hadst better not! The terrors of his noble eye would strike thee dead.
Dav. Silence, or tremble!
Oro. Beardless robber! I never yet have trembled before God — why should I tremble before man? — Why before thee! thou less than man!
Dav. Another word, audacious heathen, and I strike!
Oro. Strike, Christian! Then boast among thy fellows — I too have murdered a Peruvian!
Dav. Hell and vengeance seize time! him.
Piz. Hold!
Dav. Couldst thou longer have endured his insults? —
Piz. And therefore should he die untortured?
Oro. True! Observe, young man — your unthinking
rashness has saved me from the rack; and you yourself have lost the opportunity of a useful lesson; you might have seen with what cruelty vengeance would have inflicted torments — and with what patience virtue would have borne them.
Elv. [Supporting OROZEMBO’S head upon her bosom.] Oh! ye are monsters all. Look up, thou martyred innocent — look up once more, and bless me ere thou diest. God! how I pity thee!
Oro. Pity me! — Me! so near my happiness!
Bless thee, lady! — Spaniards — Heaven turn your hearts, and pardon you as I do.
[OROZEMBO is borne off dying, Piz. Away! — Davilla! If thus rash a second time —
Dav. Forgive the hasty indignation which —
Piz. No more — unbind that trembling wretch — let him depart; ’tis well he should report the mercy which we show to insolent defiance. — Hark! — our troops are moving.
Attend. [On passing ELVIRA.] If through your gentle means my master’s poor remains might be preserved from insult —
Elv. I understand you.
Attend. His sons may yet thank your charity, if not avenge their father’s fate. — [Exit.
Piz. What says the slave?
Elv. A parting word to thank you for your mercy.
Piz. Our guard and guides approach. [Soldiers march through the tents.] Follow me, friends — each shall have his post assigned, and ere Peru via’s god shall sink beneath the main, the Spanish banner, bathed in blood, shall float above the walls of vanquished Quito. [Exeunt. Manent ELVIRA and VALVERDE.
Val. Is it now presumption that my hopes gain strength with the increasing horrors which I see appal Elvira’s soul?
Elv. I am mad with terror and remorse! Would I could fly these dreadful scenes!
Val. Might not Valverde’s true attachment be thy refuge? —
Elv. What wouldst thou do to save or to avenge me?
Val. I dare do all thy injuries may demand — a word — and he lies bleeding at your feet.
Elv. Perhaps we will speak again of this. Now leave me. — [Exit VALVERDE.
Elv. [Alone.] No! not this revenge — no! not this instrument. Fie, Elvira! even for a moment to counsel with this unworthy traitor! — Can a wretch, false to a confiding master, be true to any pledge of love or honour? — Pizarro will abandon me — yes; me — who, for his sake, have sacrificed — Oh, God! — What have I not sacrificed for him! yet, curbing the avenging pride that swells this bosom, I still will further try him. Oh, men! ye who, wearied by the fond fidelity of virtuous love, seek in the wanton’s flattery a new delight, oh, ye may insult and leave the hearts to which your faith was pledged, and, stifling self-reproach, may fear no other peril; because such hearts, howe’er you injure I and desert them, have yet the proud retreat of an unspotted fame — of unreproaching conscience. But beware the desperate libertine who forsakes the creature whom his arts have first deprived of all natural protection — of all selfconsolation! What has he left her? — Despair and vengeance! — [Exit,
ACT II.
SCENE I.
A Bank surrounded by a wild Wood, and Rocks.
CORA, sitting on the root of a tree, is playing with her Child. — ALONZO hangs over them with delight and cheerfulness.
Cora. Now confess, does he resemble thee, or not?
Alm. Indeed he is liker thee — thy rosy softness, thy smiling gentleness.
Cora. But his auburn hair, the colour of his eyes, Alonzo. — O! my lord’s image, and my heart’s adored! [Pressing the Child to her bosom.
Alon. The little daring urchin robs me, I doubt, of some portion of thy love, my Cora. At least he shares caresses, which till his birth were only mine.
Cora. Oh no, Alonzo! a mother’s love for her sweet babe is not a stealth from the dear father’s store; it is a new delight that turns with quickened gratitude to Him, the author of her augmented bliss. —
Alon. Could Cora think me serious?
Cora. I am sure he will speak soon; then will be the last of the three holydays allowed by Nature’s sanction to the fond anxious mother’s heart.
Alon. What are those three?
Cora. The ecstacy of his birth I pass; that in part is selfish: but when first the white blossoms of his teeth appear, breaking the crimson buds that did incase them; that is a day of joy: next, when from his father’s arms he runs without support, and clings, laughing and delighted, to his mother’s knee; that is the mother’s heart’s next holyday: and sweeter still the third, whene’er his little stammering tongue shall utter the grateful sound of father! mother! — O! that is the dearest joy of all!
Alon. Beloved Cora!
Cora. Oh! my Alonzo! daily, hourly, do I pour thanks to Heaven for the dear blessing I possess in him and thee, Alon. To Heaven and Rolla!
Cora. Yes, to Heaven and Rolla: and art thou not grateful to them too, Alonzo? art thou not happy?
Alon. Can Cora ask that question?
Cora. Why then of late so restless on thy couch? Why to my waking, watching ear so Often does the stillness of the night betray thy struggling sighs?
Alon. Must not I fight against my country, against my brethren?
Cora. Do they not seek our destruction; and are not all men brethren?
Alon. Should they prove victorious?
Cora. I will fly, and meet thee in the mountains.
Alon. Fly, with thy infant, Cora? —
Cora. What! think you a mother, when she runs from danger, can feel the weight of her child?
Alon. Cora, my beloved, do you wish to set my heart at rest?
Cora. Oh yes! yes! yes!
Alon. Hasten then to the concealment in the mountains; where all our matrons and virgins, and our warriors’ offspring, are allotted to await the issue of the war. Cora will not alone resist her husband’s, her sisters’, and her monarch’s wish.
Cora. Alonzo, I cannot leave you: Oh! how in every moment’s absence would my fancy paint you, wounded, alone, abandoned! No, no, I cannot leave you.
Alon. Rolla will be with me.
Cora. Yes, while the battle rages, and where it rages most, brave Rolla will be found. He may revenge, but cannot save thee. To follow danger, he will leave even thee. But I have sworn never to forsake thee but with life. Dear, dear Alonzo! can you wish that I should break my vow?
Alm. Then be it so. Oh! excellence in all that’s great and lovely, in courage, gentleness, and truth; my pride, my content, my all! Can there on this earth be fools who seek for happiness, and pass by love in the pursuit?
Cora. Alonzo, I cannot thank you: silence is the gratitude of true affection: who seeks to follow it by sound will miss the track. [Shout without.] Does the king approach?
Alon. No, ’tis the general placing the guard that will surround the temple during the sacrifice. ’Tis Rolla comes, the first and best of heroes. [Trumpets sound.]
Rol. [As entering.] Then place them on the hill fronting the Spanish camp. [Enters.]
Cora. Rolla! my friend, my brother!
Alon. Rolla! my friend, my benefactor! how can our lives repay the obligations which we owe you?
Rol. Pass them in peace and bliss. — Let Rolla witness it, he is overpaid.
Cora. Look on this child — He is the life-blood of my heart; but if ever he loves or reveres thee less than his own father, his mother’s hate fall on him!
Rol. Oh, no more! — What sacrifice have I made to merit gratitude? The object of my love was Cora’s happiness. — I see her happy. — Is not my object gained, and am I not rewarded? Now, Cora, listen to a friend’s advice. You must away; you must seek the sacred caverns, the unprofaned recess, whither, after this day’s sacrifice, our matrons, and e’en the Virgins of the Sun, retire.
Cora. Not secure with Alonzo and with thee, Rolla?
Rol. We have heard Pizarro’s plan is to surprise us. — Thy presence, Cora, cannot aid, but may impede our efforts.
Cora. Impede!
Rol. Yes, yes. Thou know’st how tenderly we love thee; we, thy husband and thy friend. Art thou near us?
our thoughts, our valour — vengeance will not be our own. — No advantage will be pursued that leads us from the spot where thou art placed; no succour will be given but for thy protection. The faithful lover dares not be all himself amid the war, until he knows that the beloved of his soul is absent from the peril of the fight.
Alon. Thanks to my friend! ’tis this I would have urged.
Cora. This timid excess of love, producing fear instead of valour, flatters, but does not convince me: the wife is incredulous.
Rol. And is the mother unbelieving too?
Cora. No more — Do with me as you please. My friend, my husband! place me where you will.
Alon. My adored! we thank you both. [without.] Hark! the king approaches to the sacrifice. You, Rolla, spoke of rumours of surprise. — A servant of mine, I hear, is missing; whether surprised or treacherous, I know not.
Rol. It matters not. We are every where prepared. Come, Cora, upon the altar ‘mid the rocks thou’lt implore a blessing on our cause. The pious supplication of the trembling wife, and mother’s heart, rises to the throne of mercy, the most resistless prayer of human homage.’
[Exeunt.
SCENE II.
The Temple of the Sun: it represents the magnificence of Peruvian idolatry: in like centre is the altar. — A solemn march. — The Warriors and King enter on one side of the Temple. — ROLLA, ALONZO, and CORA, on the other.
Ata. Welcome, Alonzo! — [To ROLLA.] Kinsman, thy hand. — [To CORA.] Blessed be the object of the happy mother’s love.
Cora. May the sun bless the father of his people!
Ata. In the welfare of his children lives the happiness of their king. Friends, what is the temper of our soldiers?
Delphi Complete Works of Richard Brinsley Sheridan Page 45
