ANAHUARQUI. Compose thyself and dry thine eyes, The King, thy father, has arrived. Thou lovest Ollantay, my child?
(Enter the INCA PACHACUTI. On his head the mascapaycha, with the llautu or imperial fringe. A tunic of cotton embroidered with gold; on his breast the golden breastplate representing the sun, surrounded by the calendar of months. Round his waist the fourfold belt of tocapu. A crimson mantle of fine vicuna wool, fastened on his shoulders by golden puma’s heads. Shoes of cloth of gold. He sits down on the golden tiana.)
INCA PACHACUTI. Cusi Coyllur! Star of joy, Most lovely of my progeny! Thou symbol of parental love— Thy lips are like the huayruru.[16] Rest upon thy father’s breast, Repose, my child, within mine arms.
(Cusi Coyllur comes across. They embrace.)
Unwind thyself, my precious one, A thread of gold within the woof. All my happiness rests upon thee, Thou art my greatest delight. Thine eyes are lovely and bright, As the rays of my father the Sun. When thy lips are moving to speak, When thine eyelids are raised with a smile, The wide world is fairly entranced. Thy breathing embalms the fresh air; Without thee thy father would pine, Life to him would be dreary and waste. He seeks for thy happiness, child, Thy welfare is ever his care.
(Cusi Coyllur throws herself at his feet.)
CUSI COYLLUR. O father, thy kindness to me I feel; and embracing thy knees All the grief of thy daughter will cease, At peace when protected by thee.
PACHACUTI. How is this! my daughter before me On knees at my feet, and in tears? I fear some evil is near— Such emotion must needs be explained.
CUSI COYLLUR. The star does weep before Inti, The limpid tears wash grief away.
PACHACUTI. Rise, my beloved, my star, Thy place is on thy dear father’s knee.
(Cusi Coyllur rises and sits on a stool by her father. An attendant approaches.)
ATTENDANT. O King! thy servants come to please thee.
(Boys and girls enter dancing. After the dance they sing a harvest song.)
Thou must not feed, O Tuyallay,[17] In Ñusta’s field, O Tuyallay. Thou must not rob, O Tuyallay, The harvest maize, O Tuyallay. The grains are white, O Tuyallay, So sweet for food, O Tuyallay. The fruit is sweet, O Tuyallay, The leaves are green O Tuyallay; But the trap is set, O Tuyallay. The lime is there, O Tuyallay. We’ll cut thy claws, O Tuyallay, To seize thee quick, O Tuyallay. Ask Piscaca,[18] O Tuyallay, Nailed on a branch, O Tuyallay. Where is her heart, O Tuyallay? Where her plumes, O Tuyallay? She is cut up, O Tuyallay, For stealing grain, O Tuyallay. See the fate, O Tuyallay, Of robber birds, O Tuyallay.