The Somerset herald. [volume] (Somerset, Pa.) 1870-1936, 1878-11-06


~Knowest th)u aoi tha. Ia thy prisoner
Doth the blood Of Inca run
Enowesi thou 10. that Mama Oelio
Is tho priessess ofthe sum
"Can 81 be that g-eat Fizarro.
Thou who ioade me With ehains.
Knouesh No. tina; Nance CaPae,
(ge whose army n1ois The plains
j. my hashani true sDd tender,
And that while breathe In lie,
IN NJ tHs stlui. ai13co Japec
TwiI he iByai wiis--
..Ha. nay beauty, Funs Thy text -.
Thou al1ue thy die hast cas,;
On the tim 81 Nance Cgrac,
Thou hast booked lhy very last
Thou 4 was who raised this army,
Thou who poured this mighty IDOL,
Thou vert she, the insf ired priestess.
Thou shalt pay il with thy blood
Thou art pOwcrlessl Pizarros
Though thou eanst destroy my lie.
Thou'rt a worm am priesiess,
And am Nance Capac's wife.
There IL a world ofthis hereafter,
Where each evening sets the sun
Ready for his chosen children,
Ofthess chiilre l am ono.
Therefore 30 thy worst, Pizarro,
Though with tortures though mays; ;ry,
Thou canst not destroy priestess,
Though like others she may dle.
Saying this. her arm she folded,
Proudly as a queen she stood,
With her eyes Ike tw7 Stars blaziay,
AMI her cheeks as ret % bl5od.
Thou hast spoken Ike ncnaTeh.
or q Isdy Of the Line:
Yet methinks that can make thee
Like she whelp loudly whine.
Soldiers. take this heather creature.
Shear those locks that reach her feet
Strip her nude Of every garment,
Scourge her thus through every street
I'm the plaza firmly bind her,
Mark for every Christian dart;
First prOelaiming by the herald,
That whoever strike the heart
OF this lovely rebel prlesJsss,
/ make him a solemn vow,
That he shall have sbsolutl0n
And gold enough b him en- i'ss
Forth to sacrifice they Jed her,
Turest lamb OF perfect white;
And the scissors soon denuiet
All those locks Of eb9n night.
Then they tore her Priestly garment,
And exposed her beauteous form,
And into the streets they led her,
Crimsoning with blusheJ warm.
Trembling on inc SNOWY body,
Lay one llvia lie Of rel,
Then another and another,
Until all the white had fc,!.
Yet not any sound escaped her
Lips, thoagh there was once or tTiee
She the name OF Nance whispered,
And with that worl pail the price
Of her terror ami her suffering.
For herself fell not . tear;
Every thought was Nance C4pac,
And his grief when he should hear
Ofher indignlty and torture.
Herl0ye was great and his dear name
Softly 70 herself repeated,
Drvsned her modcsty AMI shame.
For Mana Oeilo loved completely.
No @. her sentiment she knew;
lie s her all her s5ic companion,
In'l her very life he grew.
Her whole life had been one pecan,
Butattuned % chant his praise;
Her one thought had been Il love him,
And I'll love him all bis days.
Bleh had been her seul's devotion.
Filling all his hOur " needs
With sweet comfort, words Of cheering
Inci,ing him to noble deeds.
And r0w. III ;his suPremess moment,
Not one thought to pain she gave,
But how she eolud in mercy spare hin,
And from the stony Manso save.
Sweet martyr. to the stake they touni her.
Calm ami pure and snowy pale;
And then PiEarrO's Christian soldiers.
Glanced their arrows; like hail
They fell around and then upon her
Who stood in innocence and pride,
She quiyered once, with hands uplinet
The name Of Nance sp0ke ansi died
Where are words TO paint picture,
Ofpoor Maneo's piercing grief;
History can tell the vengeance,
Wreakei in hope TO find relief
But bis soul vas very weary,
Every hour OF his dear life
Seemed 70 hia poignant torture
wi;hou; her, hs precious wife.
So he lived, forever battling,
Hoped to liberate HIS land;
But his dear and loved incentive.
Level lay with desert sani.
Now, no more did Oello's wis Ion
Like little infant guide,
Now no more her heroism
Held upborne his royal pIile
SIN he fought on daily losing,
Till his army was the ghost
Oi the royal inundation,
That had swept its mighty host
Ger the plains Of ancient Peru,
From the mountain 10 the coast
And as conqGeror, PlEarru,
Dil his glorious victory boast.
Proudly rOse the sun at morning.
OF that Last and fatal day:
Sadly set he in the evening.
Nance, weltering, dying lay.
Struck town hy coward traitor
Was this last Of Inca's line.
Never more will ancient Peru
With her pristiae glory shine.