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_ ACT I
SCENE V.
Powhatan River, as the first scene. [Enter LARRY.]
Now do I begin to suspect, what, to be sure, I've been certain of a long time, that master Robin's a little bit of a big rogue. I just now observed him with my friend Walter's wife. Arrah! here they come. By your leave, fair dealing, I'll play the eavesdropper behind this tree.
[Retires behind a tree.]
[Enter ALICE, followed by ROBIN.]
ROBIN.
But, mistress Alice, pretty Alice.
ALICE.
Ugly Robin, I'll not hear a syllable.
ROBIN.
But plague, prithee, Alice, why so coy?
[Enter WALTER, observing them, stops].
ALICE.
Master Robin, if you follow me about any longer with
your fooleries, my Walter shall know of it.
ROBIN.
A fig for Walter! is he to be mentioned the same day with the dapper Robin? can Walter make sonnets and madrigals, and set them, and sing them? besides, the Indians have eat him by this, I hope.
WALTER.
Oh, the rascal!
ROBIN.
Come, pretty one, quite alone, no one near,
even that blundering Irishman away.
LARRY.
O you spalpeen! I'll blunder on you anon.
ROBIN.
Shall we, Alice, shall we?
[Quartetto.]
ROBIN.
Mistress Alice, say,
Walter's far away,
Pretty Alice!
Nay, now--prithee, pray,
Shall we, Alice? hey!
Mistress Alice?
ALICE.
Master Robin, nay--
Prithee, go your way,
Saucy Robin!
If you longer stay,
You may rue the day,
Master Robin.
WALTER.
[Aside.]
True my Alice is.
LARRY.
[Aside.]
Wat shall know of this.
ROBIN.
[Struggling.]
Pretty Alice!
WALTER.
[Aside.]
What a rascal 'tis!
LARRY.
[Aside.]
He'll kill poor Rob, I wis!
ROBIN.
[Struggling.]
Mistress Alice, Let me taste the bliss--
[Attempts to kiss her.]
ALICE.
Taste the bliss of this,
[Slaps his face.]
Saucy Robin!
WALTER.
[Advancing.]
Oh, what wond'rous bliss!
LARRY.
[Advancing.]
How d'ye like the kiss?
ALICE. }
WALTER. } Master Robin?
LARRY. }
[
ROBIN steals off.]
WALTER.
Jackanapes!
LARRY.
Aye, hop off, cock robin! Blood and thunder now, that
such a sparrow should try to turn hawk, and pounce on
your little pullet here.
ALICE.
Welcome, my bonny Walter.
WALTER.
A sweet kiss, Alice, to season my bitter tidings.
Our captain's lost.
LARRY. }
ALICE. } Lost!
WALTER.
You shall hear. A league or two below this, we entered a charming stream, that seemed to glide through a fairy land of fertility. I must know more of this, said our captain. Await my return here. So bidding us moor the pinnace in a broad basin, where the Indian's arrows could reach us from neither side, away he went, alone in his boat, to explore the river to its head.
LARRY.
Gallant soul!
WALTER.
What devil prompted us to disobey his command I know not,
but scarce was he out of sight, when we landed; and mark
the end on't: up from their ambuscado started full three
hundred black fiends, with a yell that might have appalled
Lucifer, and whiz came a cloud of arrows about our ears.
Three tall fellows of ours fell: Cassen, Emery, and Robinson.
Our lieutenant, with Percy and myself, fought our way to the
water side, where, leaving our canoe as a trophy to the victors,
we plunged in, ducks, and, after swimming, dodging, and diving
like regained the pinnace that we had left like geese.
ALICE.
Heaven be praised, you are safe; but our poor captain--
WALTER.
Aye; the day passed and he returned not;
we came back for a reinforcement,
and to-morrow we find him, or perish.
ALICE.
Perish!--
WALTER.
Aye; shame seize the poltroon who wou'dn't perish in
such a cause; wou'dn't you, Larry?
LARRY.
By Saint Patrick, it's the thing I would do,
and hould my head the higher for it all the days
of my life after.
WALTER.
But see, our lieutenant and master Percy.
[Enter ROLFE and PERCY.]
ROLFE.
Good Walter look to the barge,
see it be ready By earliest dawn.
WALTER.
I shall, sir.
ROLFE.
And be careful,
This misadventure be not buzz'd abroad,
Where 't may breed mutiny and mischief. Say
We've left the captain waiting our return,
Safe with the other three; meantime, choose out
Some certain trusty fellows, who will swear
Bravely to find their captain or their death.
WALTER.
I'll hasten, sir, about it.
LARRY.
Good lieutenant,
Shall I along?
ROLFE.
In truth, brave Irishman,
We cannot have a better. Pretty Alice,
Will you again lose Walter for a time?
ALICE.
I would I were a man, sir, then,
most willingly I'd lose myself to do our captain service.
ROLFE.
An Amazon!
WALTER.
Oh, 'tis a valiant dove.
LARRY.
But come; Heaven and St. Patrick prosper us.
[Exeunt WALTER, LARRY, ALICE.]
ROLFE.
Now, my sad friend, cannot e'en this arouse you?
Still bending with the weight of shoulder'd Cupid?
Fie! throw away that bauble, love, my friend:
That glist'ning toy of listless laziness,
Fit only for green girls and growing boys
T' amuse themselves withal. Can an inconstant,
A fickle changeling, move a man like Percy?
PERCY.
Cold youth, how can you speak of that you feel not?
You never lov'd.
ROLFE.
Hum! yes, in mine own way;
Marry, 'twas not with sighs and folded arms;
For mirth I sought in it, not misery.
Sir, I have ambled through all love's gradations
Most jollily, and seriously the whilst.
I have sworn oaths of love on my knee, yet laugh'd not;
Complaints and chidings heard, but heeded not;
Kiss'd the cheek clear from tear-drops, and yet wept not;
Listen'd to vows of truth, which I believed not;
And after have been jilted--
PERCY.
Well!
ROLFE.
And car'd not.
PERCY.
Call you this loving?
ROLFE.
Aye, and wisely loving.
Not, sir, to have the current of one's blood
Froz'n with a frown, and molten with a smile;
Make ebb and flood under a lady Luna,
Liker the moon in changing than in chasteness.
'Tis not to be a courier, posting up
To the seventh heav'n, or down to the gloomy centre,
On the fool's errand of a wanton--pshaw!
Women! they're made of whimsies and caprice,
So variant and so wild, that, ty'd to a God,
They'd dally with the devil for a change.--
Rather than wed a European dame,
I'd take a squaw o' the woods, and get papooses.
PERCY.
If Cupid burn thee not for heresy,
Love is no longer catholic religion.
ROLFE.
An' if he do, I'll die a sturdy martyr.
And to the last preach to thee, pagan Percy,
Till I have made a convert. Answer me,
Is not this idol of thy heathen worship
That sent thee hither a despairing pilgrim;
Thy goddess, Geraldine, is she not false?
PERCY.
Most false!
ROLFE.
For shame, then; cease adoring her;
Untwine the twisted cable of your arms,
Heave from your freighted bosom all its charge,
In one full sigh, and puff it strongly from you;
Then, raising your earth-reading eyes to Heaven,
Laud your kind stars you were not married to her,
And so forget her.
PERCY.
Ah! my worthy Rolfe,
'Tis not the hand of infant Resolution
Can pluck this rooted passion from my heart:
Yet what I can I will; by heaven! I will.
ROLFE.
Why, cheerly said; the baby Resolution
Will grow apace; time will work wonders in him.
PERCY.
Did she not, after interchange of vows--
But let the false one go, I will forget her.
Your hand, my friend; now will I act the man.
ROLFE.
Faith, I have seen thee do 't, and burn'd with shame,
That he who so could fight should ever sigh.
PERCY.
Think'st thou our captain lives?
ROLFE.
Tush! he must live;
He was not born to perish so. Believe 't,
He'll hold these dingy devils at the bay,
Till we come up and succour him.
PERCY.
And yet
A single arm against a host--alas!
I fear me he has fallen.
ROLFE.
Then never fell
A nobler soul, more valiant, or more worthy,
Or fit to govern men. If he be gone,
Heaven save our tottering colony from falling!
But see, th' adventurers from their daily toil.
[Enter adventurers, WALTER, LARRY, ROBIN, ALICE, &c.]
WALTER.
Now, gentlemen labourers, a lusty roundelay after
the toils of the day; and then to a sound sleep,
in houses of our own building.
ROUNDELAY CHORUS.
Now crimson sinks the setting sun,
And our tasks are fairly done.
Jolly comrades, home to bed,
Taste the sweets by labour shed;
Let his poppy seal your eyes,
Till another day arise,
For our tasks are fairly done,
As crimson sinks the setting sun. _
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