Plunge that dagger in my breast,
Thou holdst it ready in thy belt;
Cut out my sad and broken heart
I ask the favour at thy feet.



Uillac Uma (to Piqui Chaqui).

Gather me that flower, boy.




(Piqui Chaqui gives him a withered flower and lies down again,
pretending to sleep.)




(To Ollantay).

Behold, it is quite dead and dry.
Once more behold! e'en now it weeps,
It weeps. The water flows from it.