 | The Siege of Cuzco |  |
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ACT II.
SCENE I.
Pizarro's Camp beneath the Fort.—Part of Cuzco in Ruins.Pizarro. Guards. Soldiers.
Piz.
Guard! force him from the spot.
Sol.
(struggling with the Guard)
Aid, aid me, comrades!
(To Pizarro)
Is this thy promised largess? brave Almagro
Had not thus shamed a soldier.
Piz.
Mark me, fellow:
Had not I oft beheld thee bold in fight;
Proved thee in danger of Castilian blood;
Death had represt thy daring. Hence!
Sol.
(interfering.)
Forgive him,
He has long served thee.
Piz.
Not the brawling camp,
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Should note such ravings. Know, Pizarro's sword
Here slumbers not. Hence to your several stations.
Your duty is obedience; mine, command.
Away!— (they go, murmuring.)
By St. Iago! it were well,
If thus a word, thunder'd with lofty tone,
Would cool their fiery spirits. Men like these,
Bound, like chain'd slaves that strain at the unpaid oar,
To the dull circle of a slothful siege,
Will break the yoke that galls them. Till these rocks
Barr'd our free progress, our unquestion'd course
Has swept o'er earth, from realm to conquer'd realm;
Following from the east, on victory's eagle wing,
The sun, that like a harbinger before us,
Lights our long march of glory. (Juan enters.)
Brother—Juan,—
Hast thou succeeded?—But another day!
And on that captive fort, our host shall grasp
Wealth boundless as their wish.
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Some I have fixt;
Leaders of note: others, Almagro's gold,
Heapt from far Chili, and rich realms between,
Has bribed to quit thy standard.
Piz.
I had hope
That he had perish'd in that mad attempt!
Or, as he scaled the mountains, rock on rock,
Where throned on Andes' crest, proud winter eyes
The sun's prone beam, and casts o'er half the world
His icy fetters. Or, as back he stray'd
O'er midland wastes unfreshen'd by a rill;
Where thirst in raving death lickt up the dust
With tongue of fire, while towering on, the sand
In mountain columns moved before the blast.
Juan.
Your force is much diminished—sixty horsemen:
Of pikes, and cross-bows, full an hundred gone.
Had not the flood, in which we saw him plunged,
Closed o'er Almagro; and yon beck'ning signal,
That sweeps the rocks, confirm'd Gulaxa's word,
Despair had bow'd my soul.
Piz.
Some chiefs, you said,
Have left us—
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Men of no inferior note.
Francis de Chaves, and Haro.
Piz.
What! Fernandez!
Juan.
The same. When I reproach'd them for their baseness,
They did retort on thee. Thou wert the cause;
Whose pride disdain'd to ratify the terms
That freed them from their bonds.
Piz.
Yes. I remember,
Insolent men! when back they came in triumph,
Like conquerors, not captives: gaily deckt
With gold and emeralds, which the silly natives
Shower'd on the chiefs, whose coward conscience deem'd it
Murder to slay Ataliba.—In sooth!
What! would they force us who are free, to heed
Their oaths, wrung from them where no day-light peep'd
Thro' their rock-roof!—Prisoners, in dread of death,
Are men of mighty promise.
Juan.
Soto's gone.
Piz.
That, that strikes deep. I would that he had stay'd!
He join'd my fortune at its lowest ebb;
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Bore us to conquest. Would that he had stay'd!
Juan.
Pedro de Lerma too.
Piz.
What! dark-brow'd Lerma!
Almagro's golden ingots outweigh mine.
Juan.
No. His stern spirit broods o'er fancied wrongs.
He has not smiled since Cassamarca's fight.
I left him buckling on his greaves. Behold him,
This way he marches.
(Lerma and his men enter.)
Piz.
Lerma! at this hour,
Why cased in steel, with these thy valiant men?
No trumpet summon'd you to arms.
Ler.
Pizarro!
I march to join Almagro. Some have fled
Like men guilt-shamed, as if they fear'd thy frown.
I come, as chief meets chief, as foe fronts foe,
To say that thou hast wrong'd me.
Piz.
No, brave warrior.
Ler.
How! you remember not? The injurer
Can smile on whom he wrong'd, and calmly tender
His hand in pledge of friendship! Say, Pizarro,
Hast thou forgot the memorable day,
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Barr'd our pursuit? Hast thou forgot the day,
When on its craggy precipice your host
Stood awe-struck at the tide, that seem'd, as it swept
The red soil down,
A stream blood-stain'd, and ominous of woe?
Piz.
'Tis fresh in my remembrance.
Ler.
When all shrunk
Heartless, and nought was heard in the pause of the gust
But the flood's ceaseless roar, who foremost rush'd,
And like the visible spirit of the storm,
Down the strange bridge that sloped its arch to the wave,
Spurr'd his resisting courser?
Piz.
All beheld thee
Boldly careering on the pendulous bridge,
Which, o'er the torrent, wreathed from rock to rock,
Shook its light net-work waving with each wind.
Lerma first cross'd it.
Ler.
You remember that?
Then, when the Indians ambush'd 'mid the cliffs,
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Charge with the lances—Was not that my post?
Piz.
I saw thee not.
Ler.
The routed Indians saw me,
Who hemm'd Alvarez round, thrown from his steed,
Amid the slippery crags. I rescued him;
And heard at my return, Henriquez' name
Echoed from rank to rank.
Piz.
Long time has past;
I had forgotten it; and since, thy merits
Have not been unrewarded.
Ler.
Years on years
Heal not the wound, where injured honour bled,
Once felt, and ne'er forgotten. Here, Pizarro,
Take back thy bribes. There's poison in the gift
When the soul hates the giver. So, farewell.
You know this raven plume, that oft in fight
Has waved your troops to victory. Pizarro!
Avoid it, and beware of Lerma wrong'd. (Going.)
Piz.
Farewell, stern Lerma, nor forget this blade
When it unplumes thy helm.
[Exit Lerma.
Juan.
Gulaxa comes.
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He knows my will, and seeks, ere he depart,
Once more to move Zamorin. Vain my pow'r.
Tho' mild that chieftain, in his mildness breathes
A soul that fears not danger. Bold in battle,
Yet pitiful as pale-eyed girls, that swoon
At sight of wounds. And in his air and form,
Action, and voice, and ev'ry step as he treads,
Reigns simple grandeur. That man, Juan, bears
The stamp and impress of the mind that awes us
When nature forms the hero. Had Zamorin
Or sued, or fear'd me, all had own'd our sway.
But sooner bow'd on its eternal base
Would Andes at my bidding rock before me,
Than his calm spirit yield.
(Gulaxa enters.)
Gul.
Say, brave Pizarro,
Art thou prepared to lead thy troops in arms
When I advance the signal?
Piz.
Yes. Go forth;
Waste not the time in words. Haste, Juan, lead
The Inca hither. If he scorn Gulaxa,
My chiefs in council shall decide his doom.
[Exeunt Pizarro and Juan.
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Pass some few days, I reign on Cuzco's throne,
Pizarro's promised gift: and pomp and pow'r
Shall blaze around me. Oh! were all within
Such as we feign it! and that robes of state,
The trappings of the monarch, could conceal
Man from himself; and inly spread the veil
To that invisible eye, that will not close,
When conscience, in the records of the heart,
Glares on unwitness'd guilt.
(Enter Juan and Zamorin.)
Juan.
(to Zamorin)
'Tis no vain threat.
His chiefs shall fix thy doom:—behold thy king.
Obey his will.
Zam.
Are crowns the heritage
Of those who slay the monarch?
Juan.
Lo! that wreath.
At sight of it Peru adores her king.
Zam.
It binds his brow in sign of sovereignty.
Juan.
Pizarro crowns him; and thou, haughty Inca!
Shalt bow before him.
Zam.
Ye are strangers to us.
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That awe our souls.
Peru reveres her father in her king:
Our homage is the homage of the heart.
Gul.
Zamorin!
Tho' nor the boundless promise, nor loud threat,
Motives that sway the common soul, avail
To bend thy will, yet I will urge such claims,
That thou shalt aid me.
Zam.
First, from off thy brow,
Usurper! pluck that wreath, rest from Huascar,
When thy fell hand thrice smote him.
'Tis spotted with his blood.
Gul.
Not mine the guilt:
He perish'd by Ataliba's command.
Peru beheld the beacons, as they flash'd
At midnight thro' the gloom. When tow'r to tow'r
Shot o'er far tracts with meteor speed, the signal
That mark'd his doom.
Zam.
The minister of guilt
Is with the author yoked. Fiends waved the torch,
While thou didst slay thy king. I pray thee, Spaniard,
Conduct me to your chiefs.
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First answer him.
Gul.
If, in some horrid vision of the night,
The messenger of death appear'd before thee,
And thus exclaim'd, “The bow is in my grasp,
“Fixt on the cord the inevitable shaft
“Levell'd at Zama's life. Speak, and at once
“Turn the wing'd point aside.” Would not thy word
Arrest it ere it sped?
Zam.
Unfold thy meaning.
Gul.
The fort obeys my signal. To yon walls
I haste, 'mid firm-leagued chiefs, to fix the time,
When great Pizarro on my brow shall bind
The crown of Cuzco. They whom I condemn
Shall surely die.
Zam.
I pity whom thou spar'st.
Gul.
There are within that fort who yet resist;
Alone thy influence sways them: bid them yield.
Enough of blood has stream'd. Forewarn'd, prevent
The unsparing massacre of civil war.
Now, fix thy choice.
Zam.
In patience I have heard thee:
And I will calmly teach my tongue, to frame
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That in yon fort are chiefs, Peruvian born,
Leagued with Peru's fell spoilers: leagued to crown
Thee, from whose foot-stool, when thou mount'st the throne,
Treason and slaughter shall arise, and cry
“Hail, king! we sceptred thee”—others there are
Men of exalted soul, from these estranged;
Sever'd by bounds impassable, that part
Virtue and vice: and thou cans't coolly say
“Choose,”—as if choice were mine; and coolly bid me
Break down the barriers which the Eternal fixt,
Ere the world was; which shall not suffer change,
When earth and all its myriads pass away.
How shall I answer this?
Gul.
Consent, or doom
Thy race to death.
Zam.
Yes, I will answer thee.
What time Pizarro saw yon spacious plain
Throng'd with new armies, awe-struck at the sight,
He summon'd me, his hostage.
Juan.
Heed him not,
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Zam.
Thou, thou wert present—thus Pizarro spoke,
“Thy bold defence has raised Peru in arms.
“Go, bid yon fortress yield, and reign at Cuzco.”
Nay, he would yet repeat the offer. Spaniard,
Are these vain words?
Juan.
Dost thou consent, brave chief?
Pizarro knows thy worth.
Gul.
Pizarro's faith
Is fixt on me.
Zam.
Virtue alone is fixt.
Gul.
Wilt thou then league with him?
Where then the bounds, the impassable bounds that part
Virtue and vice?
Zam.
In the pure and upright heart.
Pass but one step that way which leads to the throne,
And thou art lost for ever.
Gul.
Yet, yet hear me.
They will resist. I do not wish their death.
Think that thou view'st Villoma prone on earth,
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Think on thy Zama when mad war unchains
His triple fiends, and rapine, death, and lust
Riot unsated.
Zam.
Thou that hear'st, Oh Sun!
Thou, that hear'st this, and from thy throne of fire
Hurl'dst not in fury, as the tempter spoke,
Thy lightning down: not, not on thee I call:
Hold on, as thou art wont, thy course in heav'n!
But thou unseen! who for thy high designs
Unsearchable:
Thy dreadful ministers of vengeance arm'st,
Tempest, and spotted plague, and flame-wing'd bolts:
And now, in visitation of thy wrath,
Hast sent, more fell than tempest, plague, and fire,
From other worlds, the outcast of mankind,
To waste this realm. To thee, Unknown! I call:
And join my voice to that, which, mute to man,
Pleads audibly in heav'n: and, in each drop
Of innocent blood, spilt upon earth, calls down
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Thou hast my answer. Lead me to thy chiefs.
[Exeunt all.
Alvarados, Benalcazar, Pedro de Candia, Spanish Soldiers, &c. enter.
Alv.
I grant our loss is heavy.
Ben.
Soto, Chaves,
And Haro, and stern Lerma. Chiefs of proof:
Men of wise voice in council; and whose arm
Chain'd victory to their standard.
Alv.
They are gone:
And we have cause for grief, none for despair;
If we, who yet remain, view'd not each other,
With that cold eye of timorous distrust
That ill befits a soldier. Yet, methinks,
Each, while he folds a comrade to his breast,
Fears that he clasps a foe.
Ben.
Nor without cause.
The chieftains uncontroul'd, each at his will,
Move: and as fear and hope suspend the balance,
Still watch with eager eye the turn of the beam,
To strike the bargain. Various motives urge them.
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Haste, lest the exhausted mine should lack its gold,
Ere they have proved its value. Some extol
His courtesy, and breeding to his host:
Mouth honour, that doth mostly sway the soldier
Fired by fair words: and others, glossing o'er
Their avarice and ambition, with pretence
Of justice, gravely descant on his title:
And his, in their good judgment, far outweighs
Pizarro's claims.
Alv.
Let others judge his claims.
I on his sword did lay a soldier's hand
In pledge of faith, ere victory blazing round him
Had lured the fickle noon-swarm. The bright sun
Allured not me; nor shall the storm appal.
Pizarro's cause is mine.
Ben.
Brave Alvarados!
And may this arm, whose sinews ne'er have fail'd,
Wither in battle, when I turn my lance
Against his helm. Were all like thee, brave warrior!
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Look on yon chief. (Pointing to P. de Candia among the Soldiers in the background.)
Alv.
Perdro de Candia!
Ben.
Aye,
That artful Greek. His bulky limbs encase
A slavish soul.
Alv.
No coward he.
Ben.
No, truly.
I grant his lance is ponderous, and his arm
Big-boned, and braced to brandish it at will.
A skilful forgeman too: one that can turn
The sparkling mass, and shape it, ere it cool,
To ward or wound.
Alv.
Say, what of him?
Ben.
But now
I overheard him, in set phrase, more like
A peel'd monk, than a man with iron scalp,
Haranguing, 'mid a crowd that gaped around him
On slain Ataliba. And he so limn'd him
With out-strain'd eye, dark cheek, and drops on his brow;
That they who calmly bound him to the stake
Turn'd pale at the picture.
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Pedro de Candia. Pedro.
Can.
I hear thee.
Alv.
Wherefore dost thou linger here,
If, or you hold us foes, or hate our chief?
All are not base who leave us.
Can.
I will tell thee.
Ours is the better cause.
Alv.
No: not if numbers
Ensure the victory.
Can.
You understand not.
If young Almagro had not sunk in the flood,
While ye stood tamely gazing—pray you pardon me:
It seems to move you. Had not death's cold shade
Obscur'd his youthful spirit's mounting fires;
I had not here been found. That light eclipsed,
Pizarro rules the ascendant.
Alv.
Plainly speak.
Can.
Dull chief! Pizarro's master soul at will
Inclines Almagro. Have you then forgotten
When these bold rivals ranged on Cuzco's plain
Their hostile armies?
Almagro's battle far outnumber'd his.
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With untaught eloquence, whose every word
Seem'd wing'd with flame, and with commanding eye
That, proudly conscious of its mastery, flash'd
Pre-eminence of soul, so awed Almagro;
That, in the sight of all, he shook before him,
Like a frail earthly being, at the call
Of supernatural pow'r.
(Messenger enters.)
Messenger.
Brave chiefs! Pizarro
Waits you in council.
Alv.
We obey his summons.
[Exeunt.
| The Siege of Cuzco | |