the lovely visions of childhood; my passion is become like a tree, the root of which is so deeply entwined with my life, that the one cannot be plucked up without destroying the other. Oh, Inca, shew that you have the feelings of a man!—extend your mercy to Cora!—on my knees I intreat for her life! (_He kneels_) Since she has called the forsaken Rolla, brother, he is become proud, yet he still condescends on his knees to beg his sister’s life. _Ataliba._ (_Endeavouring to conceal his emotions and preserve his dignity_) Rise! _Rolla._ Mercy! _Ataliba._ Rise!—lay thy arms at my feet, dismiss thy followers, and then wait silently, and submissively, the judgment of thy king. _Rolla._ Mercy!—Mercy!—Uncle, Sister, aid me to entreat!—I have been so little accustomed to entreaty, that I scarcely know the form in which it should be clothed. _Ataliba._ A petitioner in arms!—would you mock your sovereign? _Rolla._ (_Rising up_) Oh no!—but you require impossibilities—you expect a man in a burning fever to sleep. Can Rolla behold Cora in chains, and lay down his arms?—by Heaven that cannot be! _Ataliba._ I command you to deposit them at my feet. _Rolla._ Pronounce her pardon Inca!—declare her absolved from her detested vow, and you shall instantly be obeyed. _Ataliba._ No conditions—your arms must instantly be resigned. _Rolla._ Impossible!—Come to my heart, Cora!—be my breast your shield, and let my sword hew asunder those chains! _Ataliba._ Rebel, do whatever you please.—whatever the gods will permit—but know that Ataliba will not pronounce sentence till he beholds you kneeling disarmed at his feet. Never shall it be said, that you _extorted_ mercy from the king. (_In a pathetic tone_) Ye people of Quito, listen to the voice of your sovereign!—I stand here at this moment, in the temple, in the presence of our God himself!—For seven years have I now reigned over you, I ask if any one can charge me during that time with a wilful injustice?—if any can, let him come forwards!—Has any one been dismissed from before my throne without assistance, where assistance could be granted?—if any has, let him come forwards!—I have conquered other countries, I have triumphed over other kings, but that is little.—When a few years ago the anger of the gods had cursed the country with unfruitfulness, I threw open the doors of my full barns, fed the hungry, and revived the sick, while many a night I lay sleepless in my own bed, because your misery oppressed my soul, and I had not power to relieve all. Ye people of Quito your present conduct is undeserved by me!—Seize that man, chain him, or I lay down my sceptre at this moment. (_A confused murmuring is heard among the crowd._)