Piz. [Starts up.] Who?—Guard!—

Rol. Speak not—another word is thy death. Call not for aid! this arm will be swifter than thy guard.

Piz. Who art thou? and what is thy will?

Rol. I am thine enemy! Peruvian Rolla! Thy death is not my will, or I could have slain thee sleeping.

Piz. Speak, what else?

Rol. Now thou art at my mercy, answer me! Did a Peruvian ever yet wrong or injure thee, or any of thy nation? Didst thou, or any of thy nation, ever yet show mercy to a Peruvian in thy power? Now shalt thou feel, and if thou hast a heart thou’lt feel it keenly, a Peruvian’s vengeance!—[Drops the dagger at his feet.] There!

Piz. Is it possible?

[Walks aside confounded.

Rol. Can Pizarro be surprised at this? I thought forgiveness of injuries had been the Christian’s precept. Thou seest, at least, it is the Peruvian’s practice.

Piz. Rolla, thou hast indeed surprised—subdued me.

[Walks aside again as in irresolute thought.

Re-enter Elvira, not seeing Pizarro.

Elv. Is it done? Is he dead?—[Sees Pizarro.] How, still living! Then I am lost! And for you, wretched Peruvians! mercy is no more! O Rolla: treacherous, or cowardly?

Piz. How! can it be that—

Rol. Away!—Elvira speaks she knows not what!—[To Elvira.] Leave me, I conjure you, with Pizarro.

Elv. How! Rolla, dost thou think I shall retract? or that I meanly will deny, that in thy hand I placed a poniard to be plunged into that tyrant’s heart? No: my sole regret is, that I trusted to thy weakness, and did not strike the blow myself. Too soon thou’lt learn that mercy to that man is direct cruelty to all thy race!

Piz. Guard! quick! a guard, to seize this frantic woman.

Elv. Yes, a guard! I call them too! And soon I know they’ll lead me to my death. But think not, Pizarro, the fury of thy flashing eyes shall awe me for a moment! Nor think that woman’s anger, or the feelings of an injured heart, prompted me to this design. No! had I been only influenced so—thus failing, shame and remorse would weigh me down. But, though defeated and destroyed, as now I am, such is the greatness of the cause that urged me, I shall perish, glorying in the attempt, and my last breath of life shall speak the proud avowal of my purpose—to have rescued millions of innocents from the blood- thirsty tyranny of one—by ridding the insulted world of thee.

Rol. Had the act been noble as the motive, Rolla would not have shrunk from its performance.

Enter Guards.

Piz. Seize this discovered fiend, who sought to kill your leader.