Enter ROLLA, bleeding, with the CHILD, followed
by PERUVIAN SOLDIERS

Rol. Thy child!

[Gives the CHILD into CORA's arms, and falls Cora. Oh, God! there's blood upon him!

Rol. 'Tis my blood, Cora!

Alon. Rolla, thou diest!

Rol. For thee, and Cora.

[Dies

Enter ORANO

Ora. Treachery has revealed our asylum in the rocks. Even now the foe assails the peaceful band retired for protection there.

Alon. Lose not a moment!

wives and children cry to you.

Soldiers, be quick! Your

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! Be the word of assault, Revenge and Rolla!

Away!

[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 PERUVIAN WARRIORS

Alon. Alonzo answers thee, and Alonzo's sword shall speak for Rolla.

Piz. Thou knowest the advantage of thy numbers. Thou darest not singly face Pizarro.

Alon. 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 beat 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. Loud shouts from the PERUVIANS

Enter ATALIBA

Ata. My brave Alonzo !

[Embraces 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.

Alon. 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.

Alon. Noble Elvira! my preserver! How can I speak what I, Ataliba, and his rescued country, owe to thee! If amid 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 consumed 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 prayer 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, conquests, and ambition never yet made a people happy, or a nation great.

[Casts a look of agony on the dead body of Pizarro as she passes and exit. Flourish of trumpets. VALVERDE, ALMAGRO, and SPANISH SOLDIERS, exeunt, bearing off PIZARRO'S body.

Alon. Ataliba! think not I wish to check the voice of triumph, when I entreat we first may 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: The curtain slowly descends.

EPILOGUE

WRITTEN BY THE HON. WILLIAM LAMB

Spoken by Mrs. Jordan

ERE yet suspense has still'd its throbbing fear
Or melancholy wiped the grateful tear,

While e'en the miseries of a sinking state,
A monarch's danger, and a nation's fate,
Command not now your eyes with grief to flow
Lost in a trembling mother's nearer woe;
What moral lay shall poetry rehearse,
Or how shall elocution pour the verse
So sweetly, that its music shall repay
The loved allusion which it drives away?
Mine is the task, to rigid custom due,
To me ungrateful as 'tis harsh to you,

To mar the work the tragic scene has wrought,
To rouse the mind that broods in pensive thought,
To scare reflection, which, in absent dreams,
Still lingers musing on the recent themes;
Attention, ere with contemplation tired,

To turn from all that pleased, from all that fired;
To weaken lessons strongly now impress'd,
And chill the interest glowing in the breast-
Mine is the task; and be it mine to spare

The souls that pant, the grief they see, to share;
Let me with no unhallow'd jest deride

The sigh, that sweet compassion owns with pride—
The sigh of comfort, to affliction dear,

That kindness heaves, and virtue loves to hear.
E'en gay Thalia will not now refuse

This gentle homage to her sister-muse.

O ye, who listen to the plaintive strain,

With strange enjoyment and with rapturous pain,
Who erst have felt the Stranger's lone despair,
And Haller's settled, sad, remorseful care,

Does Rolla's pure affection less excite
The inexpressive anguish of delight?

Do Cora's fears, which beat without control,
With less solicitude engross the soul?

Ah, no! your mind with kindred zeal approve
Maternal feeling, and heroic love.

You must approve where man exists below,

In temperate climes, or midst drear wastes of snow,
Or where the solar fires incessant flame,
Thy laws, all-powerful Nature, are the same:
Vainly the sophist boasts he can explain
The causes of thy universal reign—

More vainly would his cold presumptuous art
Disprove thy general empire o'er the heart :
A voice proclaims thee, that we must believe—
A voice, that surely speaks not to deceive ;
That voice poor Cora heard, and closely press'd
Her darling infant to her fearful breast;
Distracted dared the bloody field to tread,
And sought Alonzo through the heaps of dead,
Eager to catch the music of his breath,
Though faltering in the agonies of death,

To touch his lips, though pale and cold, once more,
And clasp his bosom, though it stream'd with gore;
That voice too Rolla heard, and, greatly brave,
His Cora's dearest treasure died to save;
Gave to the hopeless parent's arms her child,
Beheld her transports, and, expiring, smiled.
That voice we hear-oh! be its will obey'd!
'Tis valour's impulse, and 'tis virtue's aid-
It prompts to all benevolence admires,

To all that heavenly piety inspires,

To all that praise repeats through lengthen'd years That honour sanctifies, and time reveres.