_Rolla._ Miserable!—when you had a son!—I have indeed hitherto considered my existence as miserable, because I thought myself single and solitary in the world; but never shall I think it so again, now I know that I have a father living—a father who loves me, whose heart will sympathize with mine. Yes, I am reconciled to the world!—It is true, my father, that neither of us can be perfectly happy; yet a life that shall be supportable, nay in which you shall experience many hours of real enjoyment, I dare promise you. Hear what golden visions my fancy has formed:—Cora and Alonzo shall fly, we will accompany them, and I will conduct you to one who, for my sake, will be a friend to us all. There we will live,—there pass the remainder of our days quietly, contentedly, and free from cares;—and, my father, if sometimes when I witness Cora’s and Alonzo’s caresses, and the transports they mutually experience—if when—pierced to the heart with the idea that Alonzo’s happiness might have been mine, I cannot bear to be a spectator of the scene any longer, I will make you a signal that we depart together, and leave the lovers alone; then we will retire under the shade of some neighbouring tree, and you shall soothe my cruel feelings by talking to me of my mother. _High-Priest._ You do not consider, my son, that flight is impossible. Cora and Alonzo are both in chains, and both vigilantly guarded; nor will many hours elapse before sentence is passed upon them by the assembled priests. Do not then deceive yourself with vain hopes!—Cora is irretrievably lost. _Rolla._ Oh do not tell me so!—I cannot bear to hear it!—she must, she must be saved!—Are you not high-priest?—the first among her judges? _High-Priest._ But what can the voice of one avail against many?—against the storm of Xaira’s zeal?—We may cry to the roaring winds till we are hoarse, and we cannot hinder them from tearing up the young trees by the roots. _Rolla._ You will at least have done your part—God and my sword shall achieve the rest. Think, my father, when Cora shall meet your Zulma in the regions of peace, and tell her, I am a Virgin of the Sun, condemned to death because I loved—— _High-Priest._ No more!—All that lies within my power shall be done. I will harangue, entreat, exert every effort which the infirmities of age will permit!—Alas, the hour of judgment approaches. _Rolla._ Oh fail not in your word!—Do all that you can for Cora, and remember that my life hangs upon hers—But should your endeavours prove vain, you shall find that in the mean time I have not been idle. _High-Priest._ (_Taking his hand mournfully_) May we meet again, happier than we now part!—Farewell!—(_Exit_) SCENE IV.—_ROLLA, alone. He pauses, and looks after the High-Priest—then strikes his forehead._