Apu Ollantay | Page 9

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.[FN#16] Rest upon thy
father's breast, Repose, my child, within mine arms.

[FN#16] Huayruru is the seed of a thorny bush, erythrina rubra, of a
bright red colour. Zegarra has coral as the equivalent for huayruru.

(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.

Pachacuti.
Let them all enter.

(Boys and girls enter dancing. After the dance they sing a harvest
song.)

Thou must not feed, O Tuyallay,[FN#17] In nusta's field, O Tuyallay.
Thou must not rob, O Tuyallay, The harvest maize, O Tuyallay.

[FN#17] The tuya (coccoborus chrysogaster) is a small finch, and
tuyallay means 'my little tuya.'

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,[FN#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.

[FN#18] The piscaca is a much larger bird than the tuya. These
piscacas (coccoborus torridus) are nailed to trees as a warning to other
birds. They are black, with white breasts.

Pachacuti.
Cusi Coyllur, remain thou here, Thy mother's palace is thy home Fail
not to amuse thyself, Surrounded by thy maiden friends.

(Exeunt the Inca Pachacuti, the Ccoya Anahuarqui, and attendants.)

Cusi Coyllur.
I should better like a sadder song. My dearest friends, the last you sang
To me foreshadowed evil things;[FN#19] You who sang it leave me
now.

[FN#19] In the tuya she sees her husband Ollantay, while the poor
princess herself is the forbidden grain.

(Exeunt boys and girls, except one girl who sings.)

Two loving birds are in despair,[FN#20] They moan, they weep, they
sigh; For snow has fallen on the pair, To hollow tree they fly.

[FN#20] This is a yarahui or mournful elegy, of which there are so
many in the Quichua language. The singers of them were known as
yarahuec.

But lo! one dove is left alone And mourns her cruel fate; She makes a
sad and piteous moan, Alone without a mate. She fears her friend is
dead and gone-- Confirmed in her belief, Her sorrow finds relief in
song, And thus she tells her grief. 'Sweet mate! Alas, where art thou

now? I miss thine eyes so bright, Thy feet upon the tender bough, Thy
breast so pure and bright.' She wanders forth from stone to stone, She
seeks her mate in vain; 'My love! my love!' she makes her moan, She
falls, she dies in pain. Cusi Coyllur. That yarahui is too sad, Leave me
alone.

(Exit the girl who sang the