Old Man. Hark! I hear the din of battle. Oh, had I still retained my sight, I might now have grasped a sword, and died a soldier’s death!—Are we quite alone?

Boy. Yes! I hope my father will be safe!

Old Man. He will do his duty. I am more anxious for thee, my child.

Boy. I can stay with you, dear grandfather.

Old Man. But, should the enemy come, they will drag thee from me, my boy.

Boy. Impossible, grandfather! for they will see at once that you are old and blind, and cannot do without me.

Old Man. Poor child! thou little knowest the hearts of these inhuman men.—[Discharge of cannon heard.] Hark! the noise is near. I hear the dreadful roaring of the fiery engines of these cruel strangers.—[Shouts at a distance.] At every shout, with involuntary haste I clench my hand, and fancy still it grasps a sword! Alas! I can only serve my country by my prayers. Heaven preserve the Inca and his gallant soldiers

Boy. O father! there are soldiers running—

Old Man. Spaniards, boy?

Boy. No, Peruvians!

Old Man. How! and flying from the field?—It cannot be.

Enter two Peruvian Soldiers.

Oh, speak to them, boy!—whence come you? how goes the battle?

Sold. We may not stop; we are sent for the reserve behind the hill. The day is against us.

[Exeunt Soldiers.

Old Man. Quick, then, quick.

Boy. I see the points of lances glittering in the light.

Old Man. Those are Peruvians. Do they bend this way?

Enter a Peruvian Soldier.

Boy. Soldiers, speak to my blind father.

Sold. I’m sent to tell the helpless father to retreat among the rocks: all will be lost, I fear. The king is wounded.

Old Man. Quick, boy! lead me to the hill, where thou mayest view the plain.

[Alarms.

Enter Ataliba, wounded, with Orano, Officers, and Soldiers.

Ata. My wound is bound; believe me, the hurt is nothing: I may return to the fight.