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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, chased 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 he still loves her with a pure and holy fire. Piz. Romantic savage! I shall meet this Rolla soon. [Retires to confer with VALVerde. Oro. Thou had'st 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 thee! [Stabs him.
Piz. [Rushing forward.] Hold!

Dav. Couldst thou longer have endured his insults?
Piz. And therefore should he die untortur'd?

Oro. True! Observe, young man, [To DAVILLA,] thy unthinking rashness has saved me from the rack; and thou thyself hast lost the opportunity of a useful lesson: thou mightst thyself have seen with what cruelty ven

geance would have inflicted torments-and with what patience virtue would have borne them.

Ew. [Rising, runs to OROZEMBO, and supports his head on her bosom.] Oh! ye are monsters all. Look up, thou martyr'd 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. [CROZEMBO 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 shew to insolent defiance. Hark! our troops are moving.

Att. [On passing ELVIRA.] If through thy gentle means my master's poor remains might be preserved from insult

El. I understand thee.

Att. His sons may yet thank thy charity, if not avenge their father's fate.

Piz. What says the slave?

[Exit.

Ew. A parting word to thank you for your mercy. Piz. Our guards and guides approach. [Soldiers cross.] Follow me, friends-each shall have his post assigned, and here Peruvia's God shall sink beneath the main; the Spanish banner, bathed in blood, shall float above the walls of vanquish'd Quito.

[Exeunt all but ELVIRA and Valverde. Val. Is it now presumption that my hopes gain strength with the increasing horrors which I see appal Elvira's soul?

El. 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.

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Ew. Perhaps we will speak again of this. leave me.

Now [Exit VALVERDE. Ew. (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 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 self-consolation!-What has he left her?-Despair and vengeance. [Exit.

ACT II.

SCENE I.—A rock, with a forest in the buck ground. A bank.-CORA playing with her child, and ALONZO hanging over them with delight.

Cora. Now confess, does he resemble thee, or not? Al. 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.

Al. 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. O, 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.

Al. Could Cora think me serious?

Cora. I am sure he will speak soon: then will be the last of the three holidays allowed by Nature's sanction to the fond auxious mother's heart.

Al. What are those three?

Cora. The ecstasy 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 knees; that is the mother's heart's next holiday: 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!

Al. Beloved Cora!

Cora. Oh! my Alonzo! daily, hourly, do I pour thanks to heaven for the dear blessing I possess in him and thee.

Al. To heaven and Rolla.

Cora. Yes, to heaven and Rolla: and art thou not grateful to them, too, Alonzo? Art thou not happy? Al. 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?

Al. Must not I fight against my country, against my brethren?

Cora. Do they not seek our destruction? and are not all men brethren?

Al. Should they prove victorious!

Cora. I will fly, and meet thee in the mountains. Al. Fly with thy infant, Cora?

Cora. What! think you a mother, when she runs from danger, can feel the weight of her child?

Al. Cora, my beloved, do you wish to set my heart at rest?

Cora. Oh, yes! yes! yes!

Al. 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 sister's, and her monarch's wish.

Cora. Alonzo, I cannot leave thee: Oh! how in every moment's absence would my fancy paint you, wounded, alone, abandoned! No, no, I cannot leave thee!

Al. 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! canst thou wish that I should break my vow?

Al. 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 thee-silence is the gratitude of true affection: who seeks to follow it by sound, will miss the track. [Shouts without.] Does the king approach?

Al. No, 'tis the general, placing the guard that will surround the temple, during the sacrifice. 'Tis Rolla comes, the first and best of heroes.

ROLLA, within.

Then place them on the hill fronting the Spanish camp. [Enters.

Cora. Rolla! my friend, my brother!

Al. Rolla! my friend, my benefactor! how can our lives repay the obligations which we owe thee? Rol. Pass them in peace and bliss.

ness it, he is overpaid.

Let Rolla wit

Cora. Look on this child-he is the life blood of my heart; but if ever he love or revere 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;

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