(To Cusi Coyllur, while helping her to sit up.)
O fair princess, I bring thee food
And cooling water to refresh.
Try to sit up. I come with help.
YMA SUMAC.
Who art thou, my sweetest dove?
Why art thou shut in such a place?
PITU SALLA.
Take a little food, we pray.
Perchance without it, you may die.
CUSI COYLLUR.
How happy am I now to see,
After these long and dismal years,
The new and lovely face of one
Who comes with thee and gives me joy.
YMA SUMAC.
O my princess, my sister dear,
Sweet bird, with bosom of pure gold,
What crime can they accuse thee of,
That they can make thee suffer thus?
What cruel fate has placed thee here
With death on watch in serpent’s form?
CUSI COYLLUR.
O charming child, the seed of love,
Sweet flower for my broken heart,
I have been thrust in this abyss.
I once was joined to a man
As pupil is part of the eye;
But alas! has he forgotten me?
The King know not that we were joined
By such indissoluble bonds,
And when he came to ask my hand,
That King dismissed him in a rage,
And cruelly confined me here.
Many years have passed since then,
Yet, as you see, I’m still alive;
No single soul have I beheld
For all those sad and dismal years,
Nor have I found relief nor hope.
But who art thou, my dear, my love,
So young, so fresh, so pitiful?
YMA SUMAC.
I too, like thee, am full of grief,
For long I’ve wished to see and love,
My poor forlorn and sad princess.
No father, no mother are mine,
And there are none to care for me.
CUSI COYLLUR.
What age art thou?
YMA SUMAC.
I ought to number many years,
For I detest this dreadful house,
And as it is a dreary place,
The time in it seems very long.