Scene III Enter Rolla From His Cave
Is it so early!—The sun is scarcely risen!—Alas, thus he sets and rises again, yet ever finds me wakeful!—But let me arm myself with patience, and the time will shortly come when he will find me sleeping for ever!—(He sees Don Juan and Diego) Who have we here?—two of the strangers who live among us—doubtless they have lost their way among these bushes, and have been overtaken by the night. I will awake them, and present them with refreshments;—yet first let me offer my morning prayers to thee, my Father!
Rolla turns to the East, and as he raises his hands and eyes towards Heaven, suddenly espies the lovers kneeling upon the hill, at sight of whom, he utters a shriek of horror, and remains immoveable as if he had seen a spirit. Cora and Alonzo rise slowly with their faces still turned towards the sun, and sink into a silent embrace. Rolla overpowered, exclaims with a voice almost suffocated with anguish, “Cora!!!” The lovers start affrighted, turn round, and look down—Cora sinks in a swoon upon the declivity of the hill.——Alonzo after hesitating a few moments whether to hasten down, or stay and assist Cora, at length decides on the latter, kneels by her, and endeavours to recover her. Rolla trembling with agony, yet unable to stir from the spot, remains with his eyes fixed upon the lovers. Alonzo at length exclaims Velasquez! Diego! to arms! to arms! (Juan and Diego spring up, but are scarcely awake.)
Juan. What is the matter?
Diego. What is the matter?
Alonzo. Seize him!—Don’t let him escape!
Juan and Diego. (Still staggering with sleep, yet endeavouring to draw their swords) Where! whom!
Alonzo. Seize him! secure him! he will escape!
Juan. (Recovering himself, and pointing to Rolla) That man? that single man?
Diego. (Brandishing his sword) Two to one!—I am your man for that!
Alonzo. Secure him I say! we are betrayed!
Juan. A single unarmed man! (He returns his sword into the scabbard.)
Alonzo. (Quitting Cora, who is not yet recovered, draws his sword and rushes down the hill towards Rolla, who keeps his eyes immoveably fixed upon Cora) Then I must myself.—
Juan. (Seizing him by the arm) Hold, my friend—or rather my enemy, if you move a step.
Alonzo. My God, Velasquez, have you lost your senses? We are betrayed! you risk Cora’s life! (Endeavouring to break away from him.)
Juan. (Eagerly thrusting him back) Restrain your passion! (He goes up to Rolla.) Surely you are not unknown to me.—Is it not Rolla whom I behold?
Rolla. (Somewhat recovering himself.) I—who am I? Yes, my name is Rolla.
Juan. Rolla, the champion of his country?—Yes, it is he, and in him I salute one of the bravest and noblest of men.
Rolla. How is this? it is yet early morning! (Striking his hand upon his forehead.) Am I in a dream? (After a pause, and fixing his eyes again stedfastly upon Cora) No!—By all the gods it is no dream?
Juan. Oh no!—Howsoever severe may be the censure which your eyes denounce against the scene before you—in how horrible a light soever you may be inclined to consider the truth, still it must be owned that this is no dream. Probably you may recognize that maiden by the figure of your deity which adorns her bosom. She is a Virgin of the Sun.
Rolla. And her name is Cora.
Juan. This young man too, you may also recollect—he is the favourite of your king, that Alonzo who saved the life of Ataliba at Cannara, while Rolla was fighting in support of his throne under the walls of Cuzco.
Rolla. (Offering his hand to Alonzo) Yes, it is the same Alonzo.
Juan. And now, Rolla, if you be indeed the man I believe you, your sentiments and feelings must differ widely from those of your priests, who having their eyes almost continually fixed upon the sun, when they chance to look downward towards the earth, see all things here below through a false medium, so that scarcely any object appears under its proper form and colour. You know the world, and mankind, know how the heart is eternally swayed by circumstances, now this way, now that, and what numberless passions contend for sovereignty within it. Among these, Love is always resisted with the greatest difficulty—indeed is scarcely to be withstood, but where, in making the attack, he has not deigned to exert all his powers. Look at that virgin—she is lovely——
Rolla. Great God!—to whom is this observation addressed.
Juan. Look at this youth—he is ardent, impetuous. That he saw and loved her is his only crime.
Rolla. It is no crime.
Juan. There spake Rolla!—I was not deceived in him!—
Alonzo. And you will keep our secret?—will avert, nameless, misery from the unfortunate Cora?
Rolla. Think you, that I could betray her?—Know, young man, that for years I have loved, have idolized her.
Alonzo and Juan. (At the same moment and with the utmost astonishment) You!!!
Rolla. Oh the impotence of words!—Not my language—not your language—not all the languages of the world combined, have power to describe what I feel for Cora?—She was scarcely above the age of childhood when I marched for the first time against the rebels who inhabit the fields at the foot of the mountains of Sangay—she wept when I bade her adieu, and since our separation, I have known no pleasure but in the recollection of that moment and of those tears. When the contest was ended, I returned, but all had then assumed a new aspect. No longer was I to behold the same free unfettered maiden whom I had left, she was become the confident of the gods. I would have made her my wife, she saw the purity of the flame with which I burned, she saw the ardour of my passion, but her heart was wholly occupied with her new situation, and while she called the sun her husband, she looked down with contempt upon me. The day soon arrived on which a solemn oath consecrated her for ever to the service of her God, and consigned me over as a victim to eternal misery. Still I continued for several years to drag about a miserable existence from place to place, from battle to battle, and while I sought death gained only renown. At length I retired to this spot, and for some weeks past, this cave has been my dwelling.—This cave, which has become dear to me since it conceals from my sight that sun who robbed me of my Cora!
Alonzo. (Who during this narrative has again hastened to Cora, and endeavoured, though still in vain, to recover her.) I pity you from my soul!—believe me I pity you from my soul!—But how can I trust a rival?—Swear that you will not betray us.
Rolla. I will not swear.
Alonzo. No!—and yet you pretend to love Cora?
Rolla. What need of oaths since I do love her?
Alonzo. For the satisfaction of my mind.
Rolla. What does your satisfaction concern me?
Alonzo. I entreat this of you!—Do you wish to keep me in incessant torments?—Would you force me to proceed to extremities?—recollect that cases may occur when the commission of an apparent crime, is in reality to perform an act of virtue.
Rolla. (Contemptuously.) Indeed!
Alonzo. And should I ever perceive the slightest ground for suspicion that thou wert capable of betraying Cora—observe, Rolla, though I respect and honour thee, yet I assure thee both by my God, and thy own, that I would take thy life without remorse.
Rolla. I will not swear.
Alonzo. Rolla, I entreat it once more!—What am I to think of this refusal?—See how I am shaken to my very soul—every limb trembles—my veins swell—and I can scarcely breathe for anguish. In mercy then swear.
Rolla. I will not swear.
Alonzo. (Drawing his sword in a rage, and pressing upon Rolla.) Die then!
Juan. (Catching him hastily by the arm) Is reason again gone astray?—Hold! hold!—are you a knight?
Alonzo. Stand off, or my sword shall dispatch thee also! (He struggles to break away from Don Juan, while Rolla continues immoveable and unconcerned.)
Juan. This storm of passion is too mighty for me!—I can restrain him no longer—Rolla, defend thyself!
Rolla. Seek not to restrain him, I die willingly for Cora! (During this scene Cora recovers from her swoon, and as she opens her eyes perceives the struggle. She starts up with the wildest anguish, rushes hastily down the hill, and throws herself into Rolla’s arms.)
Cora. Alonzo, what would you do?
Alonzo. It is for thee!—for thy sake alone!—Should he betray thee, we are lost.
Cora. He betray me!—Rolla, my truest friend betray me!—He who was ever my defender, my intercessor, while I was yet a child,—who has so many times softened my mother’s rage when I had offended her!—Oh Rolla, you must remember it well?
Rolla. But too well!
Cora. And do you think that he would betray me?
Alonzo. Why then did he refuse the oath I required?
Cora. Had you cause sufficient to require an oath?—Look at those eyes!—are they not a stronger security for his faith than any oath?
Rolla. (Clasping her to his bosom.) Now let me die!—Let me, oh ye gods, die this very moment!—I am so happy;—so blessed!—Cora reposes confidence in me, I clasp her in my arms, I hear her voice once more!—Ah, five years have elapsed since I experienced such happiness, since I saw her except at an awful distance.
Cora. (Earnestly.) And I rejoice no less to see you again so near me!—In your presence all the happy days of my childhood seem to pass anew before my eyes—so many delightful images are present to my recollection.——
Alonzo. (Leaning upon his sword, and betraying emotions of the most poignant jealousy) Cora, what torments do you inflict upon me!
Cora. Why are you tormented?—Oh you do not know how strong an affection I bear for Rolla!—When a youth he loved me, and we were destined for each other.—Yes, Rolla, is it not true that we were destined for each other?
Rolla. Oh true, true indeed!—for your virtuous mother—but no more—had she not died so prematurely—who knows—
Cora. Ah, dearest Alonzo, at that time I was continually turning his love into ridicule, because I knew not what it was to love. Forgive me, Rolla, I know it better now! Oh how often, and how grievously must I have tormented you!—
Rolla. Grievously!—most grievously!—but let that be forgotten—this moment is so truly blessed!—
Cora. Hear him, Alonzo, hear what kindness is breathed in every word he utters!—but my mother always told me the same—“Rolla,” she repeatedly said, “has one of the best of hearts—love him—marry him,—and I shall die happy.”—But when she died, Rolla was engaged in fighting his sovereign’s battles, and during his absence a sacred flame was kindled in my bosom.—At his return, therefore, I could not love him; my heart was devoted to my God, and I only sighed for the day when I should be wedded to the Sun.
Rolla. But this romantic enthusiasm has at length given way to nature, and love has found its way to your heart?
Cora. Yes, Rolla, that once insensible heart is insensible no longer—be you my confident.—I love that young man; our first meeting was in the Temple of the Sun, when I saw him standing by the side of our king.—My heart was instantly overpowered with an emotion for which I could scarcely account, and the dish that contained the bread of sacrifice, almost fell from my trembling hand. An ardent glance which he cast upon me, soon gave me assurance that my feelings were not unanswered on his part—yet since I was shut up within the boundaries of the Temple, and he could only steal round the outward walls, what hope remained that we might ever find the means of personally communicating our mutual passion. The gods saw and pitied our distress.—You must well remember that awful day, some months ago, when the hills around burst out with flames of fire,—when the ocean raged, and the earth trembled,—when many palaces were laid in ruins,—when even the Temple of the Sun itself was menaced with destruction, and the walls by which it is surrounded were rent asunder in two separate places. Then, trembling, and weeping, we poor affrighted servants of the gods ran hither and thither—death seemed to reign triumphant in our cells—he seemed still to pursue us when we fled under the roof of heaven alone, and our shrieks were mingled with the groans of contending nature. Alonzo, ever on the watch among these bushes, soon perceived the breach in the wall, and boldly ventured to ascend it—one stone after another fell beneath his feet—here the earth gaped to swallow him up, and there my arm was stretched out to receive him.—The darkness veiled our love from observation; and since that time my Alonzo has frequently found his way over the same ruins.
Rolla. Cora, I tremble for thee!—In what dreadful perils hast thou involved thyself!
Alonzo. Tell him all!—let him know the fatal consequence of your weakness, and my guilt!—tell him—
Cora. Yes, Rolla, it is true.
Rolla. What!—how!—Oh thoughtless girl!—And you, Alonzo, were you so ignorant of our customs that—ye gods!—ye gods!—my children you must fly!—instantly fly!
Juan. But whither?
Alonzo. Ah, Rolla, save her!
Cora. (Terrified) Is this really esteemed so high a crime here below, altho’ the gods above do not regard it as an offence.
Rolla. How much my whole frame is shaken with horror!—I am at this moment scarcely capable of thought!—Cora, do you love him?
Cora. As my own soul.
Rolla. And are you certain that in his arms repentance will never corrode your peace, but that you can live and die contentedly as his wife?
Cora. ’Tis all I wish.
Rolla. And do you, Alonzo, feel the value of the sacrifice she would make you?
Alonzo. I feel it deeply.
Rolla. Then will I save you both. (He places himself between them) Come hither, and each give me a hand!—Consider me as your brother—as such, Cora, my dearest sister, I unite you to this man. (Placing her hand in Alonzo’s) May the shade of your mother, which hovers over us at this moment, look down with an eye of favour upon your union!—May it be followed by her blessing—If you are happy, I shall be so. (He turns aside, and wipes tears from his eyes.)
Alonzo and Cora. (Throwing their arms round him) Our dearest brother!
Rolla. Yes, your brother!—and as your brother, will I pass the remainder of my days with you. In a sequestered spot, on the other side of the blue mountains, lives a friend of mine, an old Cazique, who, under the monarch of Cuzco, rules a mild and gentle race, many of whom served in their sovereign’s army during the last war. At that time the son of the Cazique, a youth of the fairest promise, was severely wounded, and fell a prisoner into my hands; but, by my care and attention, he soon recovered of his wounds, and I restored him, without ransom, to his father. Since that moment the good man has been unbounded in his expressions of gratitude—He will receive us with transport; and in that remote province your love will find a secure asylum. There will I live with you,—tend and educate your children—be cheerful and happy, since Cora will be happy;—and at last, amid your brotherly and sisterly tears, quit this world with calmness and serenity, and ascend with transport to our Father above.
Cora. Where you will be received by my mother with inexpressible transports of gratitude!
Alonzo. Noble, generous man!—Scarcely dare I raise my eyes towards you!
Juan. (Half aside, endeavouring to conceal a tear) By all the saints above, if that man be not a Christian, I myself will turn Heathen!
Rolla. Let us now consult together what further is to be done!—Flight is resolved on; but the time and manner of its accomplishment remain to be considered.
Diego. (Who, during this whole scene has been looking about in different places, to see that all was safe, now comes forward hastily.) I hear a rustling noise behind the walls, and sounds which appear like the whispering of two female voices.
Rolla. Hasten, hasten into my cave! (As they are going Idali and Amazili appear coming through the breach in the wall, and looking about with great eagerness and curiosity.)