Ataliba. How, Alonzo, have you nothing to urge in extenuation of your conduct?
Alonzo. Nothing.
Ataliba. Do not speak rashly!—I give you time for recollection!—Consider well—Stranger!
Alonzo. I have deserved death, and submit to it willingly.
Ataliba. Once more I admonish you to consider well what you are about—a few moments longer, and it will be too late.—Oh ye assembled judges, know that I regard it as a sacred duty to grant this indulgence, since this man is a stranger, and could not be impressed with that sacred reverence for our faith, which the wisdom of our priests instils from their earliest infancy into the breast of every Peruvian. Unacquainted with our laws, he could not see with our eyes, could not know the magnitude of his transgression. Once more, Alonzo, you are at liberty to speak.—Our gods are just, reasonable, merciful!
Alonzo. I have deserved death.
Ataliba. Is that your last word?
Alonzo. My last.
Ataliba. (Rests his elbow upon the altar, and conceals his face in his hands for some moments, then, recovering himself, proceeds) Priests, perform your duty!
(Two priests ascend to the altar, one on each side of the king. One takes the sword, the other the palm-branch from the altar, when, descending again, they deliver them to Xaira.)