Rol. Such as becomes the cause which they support; their cry is, Victory or death! our king! our country! and our God!
Ata. Thou, Rolla, in the hour of peril, hast been wont to animate the spirit of their leaders, ere we proceed to consecrate the banners which thy valour knows so well to guard.
Rol. Yet never was the hour of peril near, when to inspire them words were so little needed. My brave associates — partners of my toil, my feelings, and my fame! — can Rolla’s words add vigour to the virtuous energies which inspire your hearts? — No! — You have judged as I have, the foulness of the crafty plea by which these bold invaders would delude you — Your generous spirit has compared as mine has, the motives which, in a war like this, can animate their minds, and ours. They, by a strange frenzy driven, fight for power, for plunder, and extended rule: — we, for our country, our altars, and our homes. They follow an adventurer whom they fear, and obey a power which they hate: — we serve a monarch whom we love — a God whom we adore. Whene’er they move in anger, desolation tracks their progress! Where-e’er they pause in amity, affliction mourns their friendship. They boast they come but to improve our state, enlarge our thoughts, and free us from the yoke of error! — Yes: — they will give enlightened freedom to our minds, who are themselves the slaves of passion, avarice, and pride. They offer us their protection — Yes, such protection as vultures give to lambs — covering and devouring them! They call on us to barter all of good we have inherited and proved, for the desperate chance of something better which they promise. Be our plain answer this: — The throne we honour is the people’s choice — the laws we reverence are our brave fathers’ legacy — the faith we follow teaches us to live in bonds of charity with all mankind, and die with hope of bliss beyond the grave. Tell your invaders this, and tell them too, we seek no change; and, least of all, such change as they would bring us.
[Loud shouts the soldiery.
Ata. [Embracing ROLLA.] NOW, holy friends, ever mindful of these sacred truths, begin the sacrifice. — [A solemn procession commences from the recess of the temple above the altar. The Priests and Virgins of the arrange themselves on either side. The High-priest approaches the altar, and the solemnity begins. The invocation of the High-priest is followed by the chorusses of the Priests and Virgins. Fire from above lights upon the altar. The whole assembly rise, and join in the thanksgiving.] — Our offering is accepted. — Now to arms, my friends, prepare for battle.
Enter ORANO.
Ora. The enemy!
Ata. How near?
Ora. From the hill’s brow, e’en now-as I o’erlooked their force, suddenly I perceived the whole in motion: with eager haste they march towards our deserted camp, as if apprised of this most solemn sacrifice.
Rol. They must be met before they reach it.
Ata. And you, my daughters, with your dear children, away to the appointed place of safety.
Cora. Oh, Alonzo! — [Embracing him.
Alon. We shall meet again.
Cora. Bless us once more, ere you leave us.
Alon. Heaven protect and bless thee, my beloved; and thee, my innocent!
Ata. Haste, haste! — each moment is precious!
Cora. Farewell, Alonzo! Remember thy life is mine.
Rol. Not one farewell to Rolla?
Cora. [Giving him her hand.] — Farewell!
The God of war be with you: but, bring me back Alonzo. — [Exit, with the child.
Ata. [Draws his sword.] Now, my brethren, my sons, my friends, I know your valour. — Should ill success assail us, be despair the last feeling of your hearts. If successful, let mercy be the first. — Alonzo, to you I give to defend the narrow passage of the mountains. On the right of the wood be Rolla’s station. For me, straight forwards will I march to meet them, and fight until I see my people saved, or they behold their monarch fall. Be the word of battle — God! and our native land.
[A march. Exeunt.
SCENE III.
The Wood between the Temple and the Camp.
Enter ROLLA and ALONZO.
Rol. Here, my friend, we separate — soon, I trust, to meet again in triumph.
Alon. Or perhaps we part to meet no more. Rolla, a moment’s pause; we are yet before our army’s strength; one earnest word at parting.
Rol. There is in language now no word but battle.
Alon. Yes, one word more — Cora!
Rol. Cora! Speak!
Alon. The next hour brings us —
Rol. Death or victory!
Alon. It may be victory to one — death to the other.
Rol. Or both may fall.
Alon. If so, my wife and child I bequeath to the protection of Heaven and my king. But should I only fall, Rolla, be thou my heir.
Rol. How?
Alon. Be Cora thy wife — be thou a father to my child.
Rol. Rouse thee, Alonzo! Banish these timid fancies.
Alon. Rolla! I have tried in vain, and cannot fly from the foreboding which oppresses me: thou know’st it will not shake me in the fight: but give me the promise I exact.
Rol. If it be Cora’s will — Yes — I promise — [Gives his hand.] —
Alon. Tell her it was my last wish! and bear to her and to my son my last blessing.
Rol. I will. — Now then to our posts, and let our swords speak for us.
[They draw their swords.
Alon. For the king and Cora!
Rol. For Cora and the king!
[Exeunt different ways. Alarms without.
SCENE IV.
A View of the Peruvian Camp, with a distant View of a Peruvian Village. Trees growing from a rocky Eminence on me Side. Alarms continue.
Enter an OLD BLIND MAN and a BOY.
O. Man. Have none returned to the camp?
Boy. One messenger alone. From the temple they all marched to meet the foe.
O. Man. Hark! I hear the din of battle. O! had I still retained my sight, I might now have grasped a sword, and died a soldier’s death! — Are we quite done?
Boy. Yes! — I hope my father will be safe!
O. Man. He will do his duty. I am more anxious for thee, my child.
Boy. I can stay with you, dear grandfather.
O. Man. But should the enemy come, they will drag thee from me, my boy.
Boy. Impossible, grandfather! for they will see at once that you are old and blind, and cannot do without me.
O. Man. Poor child! you little know the hearts of these inhuman men. — [Discharge of cannon heard.] — Hark! the noise is near — I hear the dreadful roaring of the fiery engines of these cruel strangers. — [Shouts at a distance.]
— At every shout, with involuntary haste I clench my hand, and fancy still it grasps a sword! Alas! I can only serve my country by my prayers. Heaven preserve the Inca and his gallant soldiers!
Boy. O father! there are soldiers running —
O. Man. Spaniards, boy?
Boy. No, Peruvians!
O. Man. How! — and flying from the field! — It cannot be. —
Enter two Peruvian Soldiers.
O speak to them, boy! — Whence come you? — How goes the battle?
Sold. We may not stop; we are sent for the reserve behind the hill. The day’s against us.
Soldiers.
O. Man. Quick, then, quick!
Boy. I see the points of lances glittering in the light.
O. Man. Those are Peruvians. Do they bend this way?
Enter a Peruvian Soldier.
Boy. Soldier, speak to my blind father.
Sold. I’m sent to tell the helpless father to retreat among the rocks: all will be lost, I fear. The king is wounded.
O. Man. Quick, boy! Lead me to the hill, where thou may’st view the plain. [Alarms.
Enter ATALIBA, wounded, with ORANO, OFFICERS, and Soldiers.
Ata. My wound is bound; believe me, the hurt is nothing: I may return to the fight.
Ora. Pardon your servant; but the allotted priest who attends the sacred banner has pronounced that the
Inca’s blood once shed, no blessing can await the day until he leave the field.
Ata. Hard restraint! — O! my poor brave soldiers! — Hard that I may no longer be a witness of their valour. But haste you; return to your comrades: I will not keep one soldier from his post. Go, and avenge your fallen brethren. — [Exeunt ORANO, Officers, and Soldiers.] — I will not repine; my own fate is the last anxiety of my heart. It is for you, my people, that I feel and fear. [OLD MAN and BOY advance.
O. Man. Did I not hear the voice of an unfortunate? — Who is it complains thus?
Ata. One almost by hope forsaken.
O. Man. Is the king alive?
Ata. The king still lives. —
O. Man. Then thou art not forsaken! Ataliba protects the meanest of his subjects.
Ata. And who shall protect Ataliba?
O. Man. The immortal Powers, that protect the just. The virtues of our monarch alike secure to him the affection of his people and the benign regard of Heaven.
Ata. How impious, had I murmured! How wondrous, thou supreme Disposer, are thy acts! Even in this moment, which I had thought the bitterest trial of mortal suffering, thou hast infused the sweetest sensation of my life — it is the assurance of my people’s love.
Boy. [Turning forward.] — O, father! —
Stranger! see those hideous men that rush upon us yonder!
Ata. Ha! Spaniards! — And I — Ataliba — ill-fated fugitive, without a sword even to try the ransom of a monarch life.
Enter DAVILLA, ALMAGRO, and Spanish Soldiers.
Dav. ’Tis he — our hopes are answered — I know him well — it is the king!
Alm. Away! Follow with your prize. Avoid those Peruvians, though in flight. This way we may regain our line.
[Exeunt DAVILLA, ALMAGRO, and Soldiers, with ATALIBA prisoner.
O. Man. The king! — Wretched old man, that could not see his gracious form! — Boy, would thou hadst led me to the reach of those ruffians’ swords!
Boy. Father! all our countrymen are flying here for refuge.
O. Man. No — to the rescue of their king — they never will desert him. [Alarms without.
Enter Peruvian Officers and Soldiers, flying across the stage; ORANO following.
Ora. Hold, I charge you! Rolla calls you.
Officer. We cannot combat with their dreadful engines. —
Enter ROLLA.
Rol. Hold! recreants! cowards! — What, fear ye death, and fear not shame? By my soul’s fury, I cleave to the earth the first of you that stirs, or plunge your dastard swords into your leader’s heart, that he no more may witness your disgrace. Where is the king?
Ora. From this old man and boy I learn that the detachment of the enemy, which you observed so suddenly to quit the field, have succeeded in surprising him; they are yet in sight.
Rol. And bear the Inca off a prisoner? — Hear this, ye base, disloyal rout! Look there! The dust you see hangs on the bloody Spaniards’ track, dragging with ruffian taunts your king, your father — Ataliba in bondage! Now fly, and seek your own vile safety, if you can.
O. Man. Bless the voice of Rolla — and bless the stroke I once lamented, but which now spares these extinguished eyes the shame of seeing the pale trembling wretches who dare not follow Rolla though to save their king!
Rol. Shrink ye from the thunder of the foe — and fall ye not at this rebuke? Oh! had ye each but one drop of the loyal blood which gushes to waste through the brave heart of this sightless veteran! Eternal shame pursue you, if you desert me now! — But do — alone I go — alone — to die with glory by my monarch’s side!
Soldiers. Rolla! we’ll follow thee.
[Trumpets sound; ROLLA rushes out, followed by ORANO, Officers, and Soldiers.
O. Man. O godlike Rolla! — And thou sun, send from thy clouds avenging lightning to his aid! — Haste, my boy; ascend some height, and tell to my impatient terror what thou seest.
Boy. I can climb this rock, and the tree above. — [Ascends a rock, and from thence into the — tree.] — O — now I see them — now — yes — and the Spaniards turning by the steep.
O. Man. Rolla follows them?
Boy. He does — he does — he moves like an arrow! — now he waves his arm to our soldiers. — [Report of cannon heard.] — Now there is fire and smoke.
O. Man. Yes, fire is the weapon of those fiends.
Boy. The wind blows off the smoke: they are all mixed together.
O. Man. Seest thou the king?
Boy. Yes — Rolla is near him! — His sword sheds fire as he strikes!
O. Man. Bless thee, Rolla! Spare not the monsters.
Boy. Father! father! the Spaniards fly! — O — now I see the king embracing Rolla.
[Waving his cap for joy. Shouts of flourish of trumpets, &c.
O. Man. [Falls on his knees] — Fountain of life! how can my exhausted breath bear to thee thanks for this one moment of my life! — My boy, come down, and let me kiss thee — my strength is gone!
[The BOY having run to the OLD MAN.
Boy. Let me help you, father — You tremble so —
O. Man. ’Tis with transport, boy!
[BOY leads the OLD MAN off.
Shouts, Flourish, &c.
Enter ATALIBA, ROLLA, and Peruvian Officers and Soldiers.
Ata. In the name of my people, the saviour of whose sovereign you have this day been, accept this emblem of his gratitude. — [Giving ROLLA his sun of diamonds.] — The tear that falls upon it may for a moment dim its lustre, yet does it not impair the value of the gift.
Rol. It was the hand of Heaven, not mine, that saved my king.
Enter Peruvian Office, and Soldiers.
Rol. Now, soldier, from Alonzo?
Off. Alonzo’s genius soon repaired the panic which early broke our ranks; but I fear we have to mourn Alonzo’s loss: his eager spirit urged him too far in the pursuit!
Ata. How! Alonzo slain?
1st Sold. I saw him fall.
2d Sold. Trust me, I beheld him up again and fighting — he was then surrounded and disarmed.
Ata. O! victory, dearly purchased! —
Rol. O, Cora! who shall tell thee this?
Ata. Rolla, our friend is lost — our native country saved! Our private sorrows must yield to the public claim for triumph. — Now go we to fulfil the first, the most sacred duty which belongs to victory — to dry the widowed and the orphaned tear of those whose brave protectors have perished in their country’s cause.
[Triumphant march, and exeunt.
ACT III.
SCENE I.
A wild Retreat among stupendous Rocks. — CORA and her Child, with other Wives and Children of the Peruvian Warriors, are scattered about the scene in groups. They sing alternately, stanzas expressive of their situation, with a Chorus, in which all join.
1st Peruv. Wom. Zuluga, seest thou nothing yet?
Zul. Yes, two Peruvian soldiers — one on the hill, the other entering the thicket in the vale.
2d Perwu. Wom. One more has passed. — He comes — but pale and terrified.
Cora. My heart will start from my bosom.
Enter a Peruvian Soldier, panting for breath.
Wom. Well! joy or death?
Sold. The battle is against us. The king is wounded, and a prisoner.
Wom. Despair and misery! —
Cora. [In a faint voice.] — And Alonzo?
Sold. I have not seen him.
1st Wom. Oh! whither must we fly?
2d Wom. Deeper into the forest.
Cora. I shall not move.
Another Peruvian Soldier. — Victory! victory! — [He enters — Rejoice! rejoice! We are victorious!
Wom, [Springing up] — Welcome! welcome, thou messenger of joy: but the king!
Sold. He leads the brave, warriors, who approach. —
[The triumphant march of the army is heard at a distance. The Women and Children join in a strain expressive of anxiety and exultation. The Warriors enter, singing the Song of Victory,
in which all join. The King: — and ROLLA follow, and are met with furous and affectionate respect. CORA, during this scene, with her Child in her arms, runs through the ranks searching and inquiring for ALONZO.]
Ata. Thanks, thanks, my children! I am well believe it; the blood once stopped, my wound was nothing. — [CORA; at length approaches ROLLA, who appears to have been mournfully avoiding her.] — Where is Alonzo?
[ROLLA turns away in silence. Cora. [Falling at the King’s — Give me my husband; give this child his father.
Ata. I grieve that Alonzo is not here.
Cora. Hoped you to find him?
Ata. Most anxiously.
Cora. Ataliba! is he not dead?
Ata. No! the gods will have heard our prayers.
Cora. Is he not dead, Ataliba?
Ata. He lives — in my heart.
Cora. Oh, king! torture me not thus! speak out, is this child fatherless?
Ata. Dearest Cora! do not thus dash aside the little hope that still remains.
Cora. The little hope! yet still there is hope! Speak to me, Rolla: you are the friend of truth.
Rol. Alonzo has not been found.
Cora. Not found! What mean you? will not you, Rolla, tell me truth? Oh! let me not hear the thunder rolling at a distance; let the bolt fall and crush my brain at once. Say not that he is not found: say at once that he is dead.
Rol. Then should I say false.
Cora. False! Blessings on thee for that word! But snatch me from this terrible suspense. Lift up thy little hands, my child; perhaps thy-ignorance may plead better than thy mother’s agony.
Rol. Alonzo is taken prisoner. —
Cora.: Prisoner! and by the Spaniards? — Pizarro’s prisoner? — Then is he dead.
Ata. Hope better; — the richest ransom which our realm can yield a herald shall this instant bear.
Peruv. Worn. Oh! for Alonzo’s ransom — our gold, our gems! — all! all! — Here, dear Cora, — here! here!
[The Peruvian Women eagerly tear off all their ornaments, and run and take them from their children, to offer them to CORA.
Ata. Yes, for Alonzo’s ransom they would give all! — I thank thee, Father, who hast given me such hearts to rule over!
Cora. Now one boon more, beloved monarch. Let me go with the herald.
Delphi Complete Works of Richard Brinsley Sheridan Page 46
