皮萨罗与军队登陆——他与阿塔利巴的会面——不幸的结果——佐莱死亡——阿塔利巴被囚禁并被勒死——阿尔齐拉的绝望。在斯特恩·皮萨罗的带领下，勇士们满怀着急切的希望，向陆地靠近;他那充满敌意的额头上没有恐惧，因为狡诈企图用坦率的微笑出卖他。君主太天真，不会被人猜忌，他跃起，乘着友谊的翅膀迎接他潜在的敌人。他戴着耀眼的冠冕，昂首阔步，金色的宝座环绕着他的羽毛酋长;它的羽毛显示着摇曳的树冠，其摇曳的色调反射着晨光;他以当地的优雅向庄严地站在秘鲁平原上的勇士队致敬，他们穿着野蛮的华丽盔甲，戴着皱巴巴的头盔，头上戴着低垂的王冠。然而，皮萨罗的嘴唇传达着欢乐的主题，用雄辩的口才迷住了淳朴的心灵;向君主的思想展开所有野蛮人所教的创造性艺术。现在他吩咐沉思的灵魂升到周围天空的圆圈之上; Presents the page that sheds Religion's light O'er the dark mist of intellectual night: While, thrill'd with awe, the monarch trembling stands, He dropp'd the hallow'd volume from his hands. Sudden,* while frantic zeal each breast inspires, And shudd'ring demons fan the rising fires, The bloody signal waves, the banners play, The naked sabres flash their streaming ray; The trumpet rolls its animating sound, And the loud cannon rend the vault around; While fierce in sanguine rage, the sons of Spain Rush on Peru's unarm'd, defenceless train! The fiends of slaughter urg'd their dire career, And virtue's guardian spirits dropped a tear! Mild ZORAI fell, deploring human strife, And clos'd with prayer his consecrated life!-- In vain PERUVIA'S chiefs undaunted stood, Shield their lov'd Prince, and bathe his robes in blood;-- Touch'd with heroic ardour, cling around, And high of soul, receive each fatal wound; Dragg'd from his throne, and hurried o'er the plain, The wretched Monarch swells the captive train; With iron grasp the frantic Prince they bear, And feel their triumph in his wild despair.-- Deep in the gloomy dungeon's lone domain, Lost ATALIBA wore the galling chain; The earth's cold bed refus'd oblivious rest, While throbb'd the woes of thousands at his breast; ALZIRA'S desolating moan he hears, And with the monarch's blends the lover's tears. Soon had ALZIRA felt affliction's dart Pierce her soft soul, and rend her bleeding heart; Its quick pulsations paus'd, and chill'd with dread, A livid hue her fading cheek o'erspread; No tear the mourner shed, she breath'd no sigh, Her lips were mute, and clos'd her languid eye; Fainter, and slower heav'd her shiv'ring breast, And her calm'd passions seem'd in death to rest.-- At length reviv'd, 'mid rising heaps of slain, She prest with hurried step the crimson plain; The dungeon's gloomy depth she fearless sought, For love with scorn of danger arm'd her thought: She reach'd the cell where ATALIBA lay, Where human vultures haste to seize their prey.-- In vain her treasur'd wealth PERUVIA gave, This dearer treasure from their grasp to save; ALZIRA ! lo, the ruthless murd'rers come, This moment seals thy ATALIBA'S doom. Ah, what avails the shriek that anguish pours? The look that mercy's lenient aid implores? Torn from thy clinging arms, thy throbbing breast, The fatal cord his agony supprest!-- In vain the livid corpse she firmly clasps, And pours her sorrows o'er the form she grasps, The murd'rers soon their struggling victim tear From the lost object of her soul's despair! The swelling pang unable to sustain, Distraction throbb'd in every beating vein; Its sudden tumults seize her yielding soul, And in her eye distemper'd glances roll-- "They come!" the mourner cried with panting breath, "To give the lost ALZIRA rest in death! One moment more, ye bloody forms, bestow, One moment more for ever cares my woe-- Lo! where the purple evening sheds her light On blest remains! O! hide them, pitying night! Slow in the breeze I see the verdure wave, That shrouds with tufted grass my lover's grave; Hark! on its wand'ring wing in mildness blows The murm'ring gale, nor wakes his deep repose-- And see, yon hoary form still lingers there! Dishevell'd by rude winds his silver hair; O'er his chill'd bosom falls the winter rain, I feel the big drops on my wither'd brain. Not for himself that tear his bosom steeps, For his lost child it flows--for me he weeps! No more the dagger's point shall pierce thy breast, For calm and lovely is thy silent rest; Yet still in dust these eyes shall see thee roll, Still the sad thought shall waste ALZIRA'S soul-- What bleeding phan