Pizarro

Ata. (Draws his sword.) Now, my brethren, my sons, my friends, I know your valour.– Should ill success assail us, be despair the last feeling of your hearts.–If successful, let mercy be the first. Alonzo, to you I give to defend the narrow passage of the mountains. On the right of the wood be Rolla’s station. For me, strait forwards will I march to meet them, and fight until I see my people saved, or they behold their Monarch fall. Be the word of battle –God! and our native land.