From Apu Ollantay: A Drama of the Time of the Incas by Clements R. (Clements Robert), Sir Markham

Pitu Salla, ever you repeat The same thing and the same advice; I will open to thee my whole heart, And say exactly what I think. Know that to me this court and house Are insupportable—no less; The place oppresses—frightens me— Each day I curse my destiny. The faces of all the Mama Cuna Fill me with hatred and disgust, And from the place they make me sit, Nothing else is visible. Around me there is nothing bright, All are weeping and ne’er cease If I could ever have my way, No person should remain within. I see the people pass outside, Laughing as they walk along. The reason it is plain to see— They are not mewed and cloistered here. Is it because I have no mother, That I am kept a prisoner? Or is it I’m a rich novice? Then from to-day I would be poor. Last night I could not get to sleep, I wandered down a garden walk; In the dead silence of the night, I heard one mourn. A bitter cry, As one who sought and prayed for death. On every side I looked about, My hair almost on end with fright, Trembling, I cried, ‘Who canst thou be?’ Then the voice murmured these sad words: ‘O Sun, release me from this place!’ And this, amidst such sighs and groans! I searched about, but nothing found— The grass was rustling in the wind. I joined my tears to that sad sound, My heart was torn with trembling fear. When now the recollection comes, I’m filled with sorrow and with dread. You know now why I hate this place. Speak no more, my dearest friend, Of reasons for remaining here. (PITU SALLA: At least go in. The Mother may appear.) But pleasant is the light of day. (Exit, R.) (Enter MAMA CCACCA, L., in grey with black edges and belt.)

Yma Sumac Monologue from Apu Ollantay: A Drama of the Time of the Incas

Rehearse Yma Sumac's monologue