Page:The Incas of Peru.djvu/397

The sound of the beat of my drums,^[1]
The strains of my clarion and fife.
Pachacuti. Strive then to stir them to fight,
Arouse them to join in the fray,
Lest some should desire to yield,
To escape the effusion of blood.
Rumi-ñaui. The enemies gather in force,
The Yuncas^[2] are called to their aid;
They have put on their garbs for the war,
And have stopped up the principal roads.
All this is to hide their defects—
The men of Chayanta are base.
We hear they're destroying the roads,
But we can force open the way;
Our llamas are laden with food—
We are ready to traverse the wilds.
Pachacuti. Are you really ready to start
To punish those angry snakes?
But first you must give them a chance
To surrender, retiring in peace,
So that blood may not flow without cause,
That no deaths of my soldiers befall.
Ollantay. I am ready to march with my men,
Every detail prepared and in place,
But alas! I am heavy with care,
Almost mad with anxious suspense.
Pachacuti. Speak, Ollantay. Tell thy wish—
'Tis granted, e'en my royal fringe.
Ollantay. Hear me in secret, O King.
Pachacuti (to Rumi-ñaui). Noble Chief of Colla, retire;
Seek repose in thy house for a time.
I will call thee before very long,

1. Huancar, a drum; pututu, fife.
2. Yunca, inhabitant of warm valley. Here it refers to the wild tribes of the montaña.