_Juan._ Oh no!—Howsoever severe may be the censure which your eyes denounce against the scene before you—in how horrible a light soever you may be inclined to consider the truth, still it must be owned that this is no dream. Probably you may recognize that maiden by the figure of your deity which adorns her bosom. She is a VIRGIN OF THE SUN. _Rolla._ And her name is Cora. _Juan._ This young man too, you may also recollect—he is the favourite of your king, that Alonzo who saved the life of Ataliba at Cannara, while Rolla was fighting in support of his throne under the walls of Cuzco. _Rolla._ (_Offering his hand to Alonzo_) Yes, it is the same Alonzo. _Juan._ And now, Rolla, if you be indeed the man I believe you, your sentiments and feelings must differ widely from those of your priests, who having their eyes almost continually fixed upon the sun, when they chance to look downward towards the earth, see all things here below through a false medium, so that scarcely any object appears under its proper form and colour. You know the world, and mankind, know how the heart is eternally swayed by circumstances, now this way, now that, and what numberless passions contend for sovereignty within it. Among these, Love is always resisted with the greatest difficulty—indeed is scarcely to be withstood, but where, in making the attack, he has not deigned to exert all his powers. Look at that virgin—she is lovely—— _Rolla._ Great God!—to whom is this observation addressed. _Juan._ Look at this youth—he is ardent, impetuous. That he saw and loved her is his only crime. _Rolla._ It is no crime. _Juan._ There spake Rolla!—I was not deceived in him!— _Alonzo._ And you will keep our secret?—will avert, nameless, misery from the unfortunate Cora? _Rolla._ Think you, that I could betray her?—Know, young man, that for years I have loved, have idolized her. _Alonzo and Juan._ (_At the same moment and with the utmost astonishment_) You!!!