SCENE VI.—Rolla rushes in with a drawn sword in his right hand, a javelin in his left, and a bow and quiver at his back. He is followed by a considerable number of Officers and Soldiers.
Rolla. Be guided by me, my friends.
Xaira. A profanation of the Temple!
Rolla. You have profaned it by a sanguinary sentence.
Xaira. (To the assembled Priests) Avenge your gods! (A confused murmuring is heard among them)
Ataliba. (To Xaira) Silence!—(He makes a motion with his hand, signifying that he is about to speak, when a general silence is observed. He then turns to Rolla, and addresses him) Who are you?
Rolla. Do you not know me?
Ataliba. I had once a chieftain, who much resembled you in features—his name was Rolla, and he was a noble-minded man.—But who are you?
Rolla. No mockery Inca!—for the love of God no mockery!—Yet you may be right—I am no longer Rolla—I no longer know myself!—A storm drives me on!—a rapid stream hurries me forwards!—but have compassion upon me!—I honour you, Inca—I love and honour you truly.
Ataliba. You honour me?—Once indeed I indulged in such glorious visions, I said within myself, as long as I have Rolla for a chieftain, the monarch of Cuzco may rage, may try to seduce my provinces from their obedience, yet Rolla’s heroic courage is a tree under whose shade I shall always repose in peace.