your hero!—pardon him!—he deserves your pardon! (_She rises and returns to her former station._) Now Inca, proceed to judgment! (_Rolla remains kneeling before the king_) _Telasco._ (_Embracing Cora_) My daughter!—for as such I may now embrace thee without shame. _Ataliba._ Does Rolla submit to his king? _Rolla._ Entirely. _Ataliba._ Your life is forfeited. _Rolla._ Of that I am sensible. _Ataliba._ You have my free pardon. _Rolla._ (_Raising up his eyes to the king with haste and anxiety_) And Cora? _Ataliba._ You are pardoned. _Rolla._ (_Casting his eyes again to the ground_) Oh God! _Ataliba._ Rise! _Rolla._ No, let me hear the sentence upon my knees, for in pronouncing Cora’s doom you pronounce mine. _Ataliba._ Well then! (_He takes again into his hands the sword and palm-branch, which at the beginning of the tumult he had laid upon the altar._) _High-Priest._ (_Throwing himself suddenly at the king’s feet_) Oh Inca, pardon them! _Ataliba._ (_Raising him up with mildness_) Do you also ask this, my father?—have the gods manifested their will to you? _High-Priest._ Mercy is the will of the gods!—Those rude times when your illustrious ancestor first established the worship of the sun are no more. Naked as the beasts of the forest, our race then lived under the open canopy of Heaven alone, while their women were considered like the dates upon the palm-tree, as fruit which every one might pluck according to his fancy. At that time they had no subsistence but what they could snatch precariously from day to day,—they were without religion, without laws, without property. Then Manco-Capac, endowed with supernatural powers, appeared among them—he built a temple to the sun, and consecrated virgins to his service, instituting at the same time the vow of chastity, because vice reigned so triumphantly throughout the kingdom, and reason was so much in its infancy, that without such a precaution, the temple on the solemn days of festival had become a theatre of debauchery. But a long series of years has changed what was then a forced obedience to the laws of order, into an inward feeling of their beauty, and where this rules, compulsive institutions are no longer necessary. Therefore, Inca, I stand here in the name of the gods, and call upon you, as the benefactor of your people, to crown all your noble deeds with a sacrifice due to reason, and through her to the gods themselves. Shrink not from the trial!—be eager to do what is right, or if any thing still be wanting to your conviction, let the supplication of an old man at least move you!—the supplication of one by whom you were educated, who loves you as his own son, who has watched with anxious care your infant slumbers, and who now asks this mercy as the recompence of all his cares! (_He takes the fillet from his head and shews his grey hair._) Grant this request, oh Inca, for the sake of these grey hairs, become thus silvery in your service!