 | The Siege of Cuzco |  |
1
ACT I.
SCENE I.
A Square in the Fortress of Cuzco.Arcal and Rimac.
Arcal.
Yet hear me, Rimac:
Soon as the day-star rose, Villoma left
In haste the shrine:
And ere my watch had ceased, he bad the guard
Bring forth the imprisoned Spaniard. Wait their steps.
Here they must pass ere long.
2
So rash a deed!
Had not I seen him, ere his followers join'd,
Vault o'er the outward moat, and with bold grasp,
From rock to rock, climb up the craggy fort,
And singly battle; the loud voice of rumour
Had not found light belief.
Arc.
From Ina learn
What urged that frantic enterprise: he held
The night-watch o'er him.
Rim.
Arcal, much I fear,
Gulaxa doubts our faith. All, all was fixt,
And bloodless victory ere long had crown'd him.
Our plot was well concerted. Day by day,
Prest by sore famine, and increasing woes,
New numbers join'd our cause. The public will
Concurr'd, and fortune favor'd. Since Zamorin,
Touch'd by the common misery, left these walls,
A voluntary hostage; and Pizarro,
Regardless of the terms, once more cut off
The scant supply; despair and swift revolt
Has spread from breast to breast. Thus all conspired
To aid what wisdom plann'd. Gulaxa doubts us,
3
To war's uncertain issue?
Arc.
He concurr'd not.
The deed betrays its author. This rash Spaniard,
In fire, and insolence of youthful blood,
Rush'd to the vain assault. Gulaxa knows
The strength of this proud fort, where man, in league
With nature's work, height above height has piled
A mountain structure, from the unhewn quarry
Drag'd by a nation's labour. Well he knows
That war's gigantic arm is powerless,
As the faint effort of a feeble infant
To shake this mass.
Rim.
Gulaxa scorns our aid.
Arc.
On us he rests. Cuzco shall bend beneath him.
High o'er the chiefs he tow'rs, whose wars have bathed
Peru in her own blood. Pizarro crowns him.
Who can resist that chief? From realm to realm
He sped, and all obey'd. Our heav'n-born kings
Fell at his wrath. Alone an infant left;
To court whose fickle smile, sceptres and crowns
4
Whose banner'd rainbows proudly waved, and robed
Grim war with floating radiance, in our sight,
Shrink from a band of Spaniards. On this rock,
Peru shall throne Gulaxa.
Rim.
All was fixt:
This was the appointed day; Gulaxa named it.
Ere night we had resign'd the fort, and shared
Ambition's high-raised honours—
(A loud shout is heard.)
Whence that shout?
Arc.
Haply they lead, amid the clamorous crowd,
The imprison'd Spaniard.
Rim.
Haste, inquire the cause:
Here will I wait.
(Arcal goes.)
So hazardous a deed!
Of issue so uncertain! that had time
Slowly matured, and wary foresight plann'd
Each quality and circumstance most fitted
To gain success, a turn had marr'd the whole.
But unprepared, and left for wayward chance
(Ina crosses the stage.)
To fashion at the moment.—Ina—there—
He sees me not.—Why this impatient speed?
5
Well met. I vainly sought thee 'mid the crowd;
Whence, but for this stout mace, not lightly ply'd,
I ne'er had disengaged me,—such the press,
Pouring from ev'ry side. Now mark me, Rimac;
Know that our deep-laid project—
Rim.
On, good Ina.
Ina.
Is not abandon'd yet.
Rim.
Not hopeless! Ina!
Oh! I have ever held thee dear. Confide it,
Confide it to me quickly. Have you proof on't?
The signals were your charge: but yester eve
You gave no heedful warning.
Ina.
I observed none.
But ere the dawn, this day, at the 'custom'd time,
When thick mists swept around the mountain's base,
And all was still as night:
Nought stirring but the due-returning step
Of the lone centinel, pacing his round:
A fire-ball from the Spanish camp beneath,
Flash'd forth: a second from the southern mound
Crost it in air. That was the appointed signal:
At noon expect Gulaxa.
6
Orcas.
Drive, drive them back.
1 Per.
Think of Peru's slain race.
2 Per.
Give me my son.
Alm.
Indians, I never wrong'd you.
3 Per.
I had a father, and you rack'd his limbs
To sport your children; and your blood-hounds lapt
The life-stream as it spouted from his wounds.
Alm.
(to Orcas.)
To you I owe my life;
You snatch'd me from the torrent, where I sunk,
With your brave guard, who grasp'd me as I rush'd,
And with me plunged in the flood.
Orc.
I drew you forth.
Alm.
If thou would'st have my thanks for life so saved,
Keep back these wretched men. They vex my soul.
Orc.
Guard, drive them back.
1 Per.
Pledged o'er their groans, fell Spaniard!
Your goblets foam'd, and the feast shook with laughter,
In mockery of their wounds. And when they sunk
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By pangs unknown before.
Alm.
Not I, not I!
(to Orcas.)
Your sufferings pierce my soul. If thou art man,
And hast the feelings of our common nature,
Oh, still their cries!
Orc.
Help, Arcal! Rimac, help me!
Guards! force them from the square— (the guards force them away.)
Nay: wonder not;
They ne'er, till now, have seen within these walls,
A Spanish chief, their captive.—Rest a while:
Breathe freely, youth.
Alm.
But now you whisper'd me,
Haply to sooth my woe,—you were my friend,
Pizarro's friend—
Orc.
Nor I alone. Lo! these,
All vow'd associates in one common cause,
Bound to Gulaxa, whom Pizarro's pow'r
Exalts to Cuzco's throne.
Alm.
This clears the whole.
Lead, lead me to Villoma.
Ina.
Dread him not.
Ere long thy presence shall console the host
That now deplore thee dead.
8
What urged thee hither?
What forced thee on a desperate deed, whose end
Was sure destruction?
Alm.
The wing'd pulse of youth.
We Spaniards ever rush where danger beckons:
Your wars to us are pastime. Lead me on.
Ina.
Now to your posts. I go to watch the camp.
And if no signal other change denote,
At noon, beneath the cavern's sheltering gloom,
In arms, attend Gulaxa.
Orc.
Yet, yet hear me;
We shall not meet again, till the hazardous hour
That summons us to action. On your souls!
I charge ye, on your souls! remember, friends!
The oath ye sware. Let no rash hand assail
Villoma's life. Spare the Sun's Priest! revere
His hoary head!
Ina.
We are not men of blood.
I would not willingly do that man harm.
Arc.
To him I bear no malice: he has ever
Demean'd himself most gently.
Orc.
By yon Sun!
I do conjure you, to my pray'r attend.
9
Yourselves have witness'd it, from deep despair,
Our long-enduring race. And much I fear
Ere we resign the fortress, blood will flow.
Spare, spare Villoma's life!
Rim.
(departing.)
If he resist not.
At noon we meet.
[Conspirators depart.
Ina.
Farewell!
Orc.
They hear me not—
This, to refuse me this!—but one grey head,
Bow'd by the stroke of time. Inhuman men!
Alm.
Conduct me to Villoma.
Orc.
Never, never.
I will not front the man whom I have wrong'd.
I dare not go.
Alm.
Remorseful horror shakes him.
Peruvian, mark me.
Orc.
There, behold his palace:
The unpolluted temple of the sun.
I will not enter it.
Alm.
You saved my life,
I will redeem thy soul.
Orc.
(exclaiming.)
Heav'n heard their oath.
10
Thou shalt know peace again.
Orc.
Oh! never, never.
Alm.
Haste to Villoma—at his feet pour forth
What weighs upon thy heart.
Orc.
Art thou a Spaniard?
Alm.
Spaniards are men, and man is virtue's heir.
Come forth.
Orc.
He ne'er can pardon me—
Alm.
Then die.
Live free from guilt, or deem thy death a blessing.
Orc.
Lead, lead my trembling steps—good
Spaniard! guide me.
[Exeunt.
Scene changes to a Court before the Temple of the Sun, an Altar before the Gates of the Temple.
Villoma.
God of my fathers! hear me.
Thou! throned in flame. Thou! at whose dawn, the world,
Thy visible creation, spread beneath thee,
Bursts to new life and lustre;
And all that breathe, look up, and bless thy beams.
11
On thee alone. Not now, my voice, oh Sun!
Calls down, as once in happier years, thy ray,
Pure source of being! thro' the womb of earth
To stream fertility. No more thy priest,
Fresh gathering from the spring's free tribute, lays
The prime of the year, of herb, and fruit, and flow'r,
Nature's sweet offering, on thy bloodless shrine.
Far other gifts I bring. Lo! stain'd with gore
Receive these spoils, that, wet with tears, I hang
Upon thy golden gates:
The lance, the helm, and buckler. And I call
On thee, once god of peace, to steel thy sons
With dauntless fortitude. To this, thy seat,
Let the deliverer, glorying in thy might,
Return: and on thy heav'n-born child, sole heir
Of slain Huascar, here in triumph fix
The crown that graced his sires on Cuzco's throne!
(Zama enters.)
Zama.
My sire!
Vill.
My Zama!
Oh may the blessing of a father's voice
Console thy woes!
Zama.
Yet lives my husband?—Say—
12
From thee to hear his doom. Let none less loved
Say to thy child, “Zamorin rests in death.”
Vill.
How shall I answer thee?
Zama.
Oh speak—
Vill.
His doom
Is yet unknown. Day after day, in vain
I claim the hostage.
Zama.
The fixt time is past,
The stated terms fulfill'd. Zamorin's flag,
Raised on this holy mount, wide streams o'er earth
To league Peru in arms. Lo! ere the day
By fierce Pizarro markt for Cuzco's shame,
Led on by freedom, in their king's defence,
A nation dares the invader.
Roused at the sight, my soul a while springs loose
From woe: and other tears than those of grief
Stream on my glowing cheek. Yet, brave Zamorin,
At whose return, heav'n on their chieftain's brow
Had pour'd a nation's blessing, he alone
Pines in base chains, or lies an untomb'd corse
For scorn to point at.
Vill.
Calm thy troubled spirit.
13
Hear me, my sire, nor fondly feign a hope
No longer felt. If thou would'st sooth my woe,
O grant my only pray'r.
Vill.
Speak, and obtain it.
Zama.
Let me go forth, and learn Zamorin's fate:
Let me console his grief, or share his doom.
Vill.
Say, would'st thou leave these consecrated walls,
That, like heav'n's holy circle, guard thee round;
To rush amid the riot, and flush'd camp
Of yon fell spoilers?
Zama.
To Zamorin's arms
I haste, to sooth his woe, or perish with him.
Vill.
Urge not a vain request.
Zama.
Must then Zamorin,
Who went the public hostage, who relieved
The public woe:
When famish'd wretches dropping to their graves
Knelt to the foe for bread: or on the rock,
Where they had watch'd the day for vain relief,
Fell, as the sun, that dawn'd upon their sorrow,
14
Unhonour'd? No friend near: none, none on earth,
On whose responsive look his eye may dwell,
And while it swims around in death's cold mists,
Catch, ere it close for ever, the last solace
Of one fond tear?
Vill.
You pierce my soul—
Zama.
My father!
By that loved name! if I have honour'd thee
Like one scarce earthly!
Oh by the memory of her who bore me,
Whose image, ne'er forgotten, lives in Zama;
Whose voice, ne'er heard in vain, speaks in thy heart,
While her loved daughter pleads—
Vill.
Spare me, my child!
Or, this decisive day relieves our woe:
Or thou, whose little hand was lockt in mine
When I did guide and train thy tott'ring foot;
Thou, thou sole prop and solace of my age,
Now, when affliction pours forth all her storms,
Shalt leave me to the tossings of the blast;
15
To a fond infant's clasping.
Zama.
Never, never.
Alm.
(ere he enters.)
Nay, enter in.
Orc.
(ere he enters.)
I dread that holy spot.
(They enter.)
Alm.
Advance. By penitence absolve thy guilt.
Vill.
What may this mean?
Orc.
Villoma, here I bring
At thy command this Spaniard, thy vow'd foe;
And with him one, who in the specious guise
Of friendship and fair loyalty—
Vill.
Speak, Orcas—
Orc.
Has leagued with traitors to admit at noon
Gulaxa in this fort.
Vill.
That fell usurper!
Within these sacred walls! Ungrateful men!
Ye were my children, all: and, as a father,
I felt for your distress.
Zama.
(to Orcas.)
The toils ye bore,
Famine, and restless watching, and long labour,
More his example than his will enforced.
16
The portion of the God.
Orc.
Oh, he has been
More than a parent to us.
Zama.
He ne'er waited
Till misery call'd, but sought its lonely haunts;
There none beheld him, but the hopeless widow,
That ceased from tears when he came; and the orphan child,
Who knew but him on earth, and at his presence,
Lisp'd the new name of father.
Alm.
Oh Spain! are these barbarians!
Orc.
Yet hear me, while my voice has pow'r to breathe
What racks me in the utterance. We are pledged,
Whene'er Gulaxa summons, to unbar
This sacred fortress to Pizarro's host.
And sire—if thou resist—thou, holy man!
They will not spare thy life.
Vill.
Heav'n's will be done,
I dread not death: nor, till Zamorin bids,
Will yield the fort.
Zama.
He never will consent.
17
Decree my doom—
I dare not sue for mercy—
Vill.
I behold thee
By deep repentance bow'd to earth: arise,
Arise new born to virtue.
Haste, at the gates place chiefs of firmest proof.
Bid them admit Gulaxa. I will meet him.
Tho' long adversity has bow'd the sons
Of Cuzco; tho' consuming famine slackt
Their pithless joints; yet in these walls are men
Who never will pay homage to a brow
By Spaniards diadem'd. Here yet are those
Who, in their heav'n-born monarch's righteous cause,
Will in the dregs of age arouse their nature,
And task their limbs, fill'd with new life, to act
Their high intentions: and these deem it virtue
To die in his defence.
Orc.
Be such my death!
[Exit.
Alm.
They told me, that Peruvians were at best
Men but in shape; in soul of brutal nature.
We Spaniards know you not.
Vill.
And who art thou
From whose astonish'd soul the voice of praise
18
Basely this fortress, while thy perjured chief
Detains our hostage?
Alm.
Bid Pizarro answer.
This recks not me. I broke no sacred truce.
Vill.
Your vows ye break at will: our word was sacred.
This fort, its golden stores, and countless gems,
Offerings from kings thro' ages to their God,
All, all were yours. Such were the terms imposed,
And famine forced assent. The day was fixt:
Heaven sent unlook'd-for aid. Ye little deem'd,
That from her ice-crown'd heights, and caves of the rock,
Which hid our routed host, Peru once more
Had rallied. And ye reckt not; for ye held
Zamorin at your will; whose ransom'd head
Ye knew would purchase victory. What now lured you,
What but leagued treason, to assail these rocks
In frantic insolence?
Alm.
The lance I aim'd
Was met by valiant men. No traitor's arm
Curb'd me in mid career.
19
Presumptuous youth!
Here dwells a visible God: this roof is holy.
Declare the truth, nor let deceitful words
Draw righteous vengeance down.
Alm.
Cease thy vain threats!
I speak not at command.
Vill.
Proud man!
Zama.
My father,
He looks like one whom gentleness may gain,
More than harsh force compel. I pray thee, stranger,
Aught know'st thou of Zamorin?
Alm.
He yet lives,
So rumour speaks; but by Pizarro held
In bonds.
Zama.
A hostage! and in bonds!
Inhuman men!
Alm.
All are not such, fair lady!
Vill.
Who art thou? and what urged thy rash assault?
Alm.
Glory. Had conquest crown'd me, Spain had rank'd
Mine with proud names, whose mention fires the soul,
20
Fair dames of proud Castille at solemn jousts
Had wing'd their knights to victory, with the praise
Of young Almagro:—and, if here I fall,
I have not shamed my sire.
Vill.
Almagro's son!
Whose army fronts our warriors, while Pizarro
Encamps beneath these walls!
Alm.
Brief let me be.
Scarce had I landed on this coast (few days
Now past) with men, and steeds, and warlike stores
Trebling Pizarro's battle; when my sire
Sent me to greet that chief. My train more fit
For embassy than war:
Heralds, and poursuivants; few knights in arms.
Fair my proposal. Instantly to join
Their forces, and disperse your numerous host.
That done:—if still Pizarro dared disown
The signet that I bore, the emperor's grant
Of Cuzco to my sire, then fierce defiance.
I came. Pizarro heard, and taunting bad me
Fix on your rocks my flag; there crown my sire:
And with bold impress charge my maiden shield,
Yet bloodless, and but prickt with tilting points.
21
At once I sallied forth: few followers join'd.
I am your prisoner now, and wait my doom.
Vill.
Thy life, rash youth! shall answer for Zamorin.
Alm.
Oh, rather than consent to my release,
Pizarro, in thy sight, beneath these walls,
Would stab the hostage. Yet, if death's my doom,
I ask but this: ye are no barbarous race.
Send back my corse, and these, (pointing to his armour,)
a father's gift,
To old Almagro. It will sooth the warrior
To hang them o'er my tomb. And let your herald
Say, how I fought, how died.
Vill.
I am no murderer.
Zama.
Hear me, my father.
I fain would sue to thee! yet—
Vill.
Speak. Strange doubts
Perplex me.
Zama.
Whence it is, I rightly know not,
Yet much this Spaniard moves me.
Rash were his words; yet, while he spoke, methought,
22
For mercy. Such as he, in prime of life,
Zamorin; and each tear that falls for him
Pleads for this captive youth. And haply too
While on his doom we pause, and calmly weigh
What caution dictates, in his native land
One, sad as Zama, at the thought of war,
Presses a bleeding heart, and mourns as dead
Him yet alive.
Vill.
Zama, pronounce his doom.
Zama.
Give him his freedom. To Pizarro go,
Say how Peruvian conquerors treat their captives:
So bid him treat his hostage.
Alm.
I will force him,
Fair dame! to free thy lord, or I no more
Will woo renown in arms; nor wield a lance
Where love and glory point the warrior's course.
Expect thy lord. My life for his is pledged.
[Exeunt.
| The Siege of Cuzco | |