Xaira. Silence, stranger, it is not your turn to speak.
Cora. My advances inspired him with boldness—he sprang over the ruins of our sacred walls, yet scarcely was he within their circuit, when, affrighted at his own rashness, he was about to retreat without an interview. But his figure had caught my attention as I was walking at a distance—I called—I made signs to him when I ought to have fled,—intercourse with him was forbidden to me,—intercourse with me was not forbidden to him.—He stood trembling and irresolute, while I ran towards him, threw my arms round his neck, and pressed my lips to his. Still he was anxious to depart, but I detained him—he would not have returned, but I entreated him—he described to me the danger of my situation, but I refused to listen to him. On me, on me, pass sentence, ye reverend judges, it is I who have seduced.
Alonzo. Nature herself convicts you of falsehood.—Modesty is the sister of beauty—the man declares love, the woman only returns it. Who then can believe your story?—No, ye priests, it was I, who, when I saw her in the temple, first threw forbidden glances upon her, by which I disturbed her quiet, and ruffled the sweet serenity of her mind. It was I who disregarding the laws both of God and man, with thoughtless confidence overleaped the sacred walls, and when at sight of me she started back and would have fled, I cast myself at her feet, and holding her by her garments, forcibly detained her, to poison her mind with flattery and deceit. But why should I urge all this?—Ye judges, ye know the character of man, and must be assured, by the feelings of your own hearts, that I was the seducer. Pronounce your sentence then on me!
Cora. Recollect that he saved the Inca’s life!—Spare him!—he is guiltless!
Alonzo. She raves, she knows not what she says, I alone am guilty.
Cora. Can you have a more convincing proof that I only am the criminal, when you see me wholly unconcerned and unmoved by any emotions of repentance, while the stranger is bowed down with the weight of his remorse. I glory in my guilt, and here in the presence of the gods, in the presence of all these spectators, do I embrace my husband! (She rushes up to Alonzo, and clasps him in her arms.) Now observe his tremor—he breaks from me, while I would still hang about him!—Can you then doubt any longer?—’Tis I,—I only am guilty.
Alonzo. Cora! Cora! Think of what you are doing!
Cora. Hear him, how he reproves, how he admonishes me!—Thus has he ever done, yet I would not listen to him, but regardless of his admonitions drew him with me into this abyss of misery.
Xaira. Shameless woman?—Tear her from him!