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_ ACT III
SCENE IV.
At Werocomoco; banquet. SMITH, ROLFE, PERCY, NANTAQUAS, POWHATAN, &c., seated. GRIMOSCO, MIAMI and a number of INDIANS attending.
POWHATAN.
White warriors, this is the feast of peace, and yet you
wear your arms. Will not my friends lay by their warlike
weapons? They fright our fearful people.
SMITH.
Our swords are part of our apparel, king;
Nor need your people fear them. They shall rest
Peaceful within their scabbards, if Powhatan
Call them not forth, with voice of enmity.
POWHATAN.
Oh, that can never be! feast then in peace,
Children and friends--
[Leaves his place and comes forward to GRIMOSCO.]
O priest! my soul is afraid it will be stained with dishonour.
GRIMOSCO.
Away! the Great Spirit commands you. Resume your seat;
hold the white men in discourse; I will but thrice
wave my hand, and your foes are dead.
[KING resumes his seat.]
[To MIAMI.]
Now, prince, has the hour of vengeance arrived.
POWHATAN.
[With a faltering voice.]
Think not, white men, that Powhatan wants the knowledge to prize your friendship. Powhatan has seen three generations pass away; and his locks of age do not float upon the temples of folly.
[GRIMOSCO waves his hand: the INDIANS steal behind the ENGLISH, MIAMI behind ROLFE. KING proceeds.]
If a leaf but fall in the forest, my people cry out with terror, "hark! the white warrior comes!" Chief, thou art terrible as an enemy, and Powhatan knows the value of thy friendship.
[GRIMOSCO waves his hand again; the INDIANS seize their tomahawks, and prepare to strike. KING goes on.]
Think not, therefore, Powhatan can attempt to deceive thee--
[The KING'S voice trembles; he stops, unable to proceed. The INDIANS' eyes are fixed on GRIMOSCO, waiting for the last signal. At this moment the PRINCESS rushes in.]
PRINCESS.
Treachery to the white men!
[At the same instant, drum and trumpet without. Music. The ENGLISH seize the uplifted arms of the INDIANS, and form a tableau, as enter DELAWAR and his party. After the music, the SOLDIERS take charge of the INDIANS. POCAHONTAS flies to the arms of ROLFE.]
NANTAQUAS.
O father!
[POWHATAN is transfixed with confusion.]
SMITH.
Wretched king! what fiend could urge you?
POWHATAN.
Shame ties the tongue of Powhatan. Ask of that
fiend-like priest, how, to please the angry Spirit,
I was to massacre my friends.
SMITH.
Holy Religion! still beneath the veil
Of sacred piety what crimes lie hid!
Bear hence that monster. Thou ferocious prince--
MIAMI.
Miami's tortures shall not feast your eyes!
[Stabbing himself.]
SMITH.
Rash youth, thou mightst have liv'd--
MIAMI.
Liv'd! man, look there!
[Pointing to ROLFE and PRINCESS. He is borne off.]
POWHATAN.
Oh, if the false Powhatan might--
SMITH.
No more.
Wiser than thou have been the dupes of priesthood.
Your hand. The father of this gen'rous pair
I cannot choose but love. My noble lord,
I pray you pardon my scant courtesy
And sluggish duty, which so tardy-paced
Do greet your new arrival--
DELAWAR.
Valiant captain!
Virtue-ennobled sir, a hero's heart
Will make mine proud by its most near acquaintance.
[Embrace.]
SMITH.
Your coming was most opportune, my lord.
One moment more--
DELAWAR.
Nay, not to us the praise.
Behold the brilliant star that led us on.
SMITH.
Oh! blest is still its kindly influence!
Could a rough soldier play the courtier, lady,
His practis'd tongue might grace thy various goodness,
With proper phrase of thanks; but oh! reward thee!
Heaven only can--
PRINCESS.
And has, my brother. See!
I have its richest gift.
[Turning to ROLFE.]
ROLFE.
My dearest love!
SMITH.
Her brother, sir, and worthy of that name.
[Introduces NANTAQUAS to DELAWAR;
PERCY and GERALDINE, who had been conversing, advance.]
PERCY.
You tell me wonders.
GERALDINE.
But not miracles.
Being near the uncle, sir, I knew the lady.
PERCY.
And was I then deceived?
GERALDINE.
What, gentle Percy!
Young man, 'twas not well done, in idle pique,
To wound the heart that lov'd you.
PERCY.
O sir! speak!
My Geraldine, your niece, is she not married?
DELAWAR.
Nor like to be, poor wench, but to her grave,
If mourning for false lovers break maids' hearts.
PERCY.
Was she then true? O madman! idiot!
To let the feeble breath of empty rumour
Drive me from heavenly happiness!
DELAWAR.
Poor girl!
She fain would have embark'd with me.
PERCY.
Ah, sir!
Why did she not?
DELAWAR.
Marry, sir, I forbade her:
The rough voyage would have shook her slender health
To dissolution.
GERALDINE.
Pardon, sir; not so--
DELAWAR.
How now, pert page?
GERALDINE.
For here she is, my lord.
And the rough voyage has giv'n her a new life.
PERCY.
My Geraldine!
DELAWAR.
My niece! O brazenface!
Approach me not; fly from your uncle's anger;
Fly to your husband's arms for shelter, hussy!
[GERALDINE flies to PERCY'S embrace.]
PERCY.
Oh! speechless transport! mute let me infold thee!
DELAWAR.
[To KATE.]
And you, my little spark, perhaps, your cloak
Covers another duteous niece--or daughter.
Speak, lady: for I see that title writ
In crimson characters upon your cheek.
Art of my blood?
LARRY.
No, sir, she's of my flesh;
Flesh of my flesh, my lord. Now, arrah, Kate,
Don't blush. This goodly company all knows
My flesh may wear the breeches, without scandal.
WALTER.
Listen not, Alice, to his sophistry.
Sir, if our good wives learn this argument,
They'll logically pluck away our--
ALICE.
Tut:
Fear ye not that; for when a woman would,
She'll draw them on without a rule of reason.
DELAWAR.
Methinks 'tis pairing time among the turtles.
Who have we here?
[ROBIN and NIMA come forward.]
ROBIN.
A pair of pigeons, sir; or rather a robin and a dove.
A wild thing, sir, that I caught in the wood here.
But when I have clipt her wings, and tamed her, I hope
(without offence to this good company) that we shall
bill without biting more than our neighbours.
SMITH.
Joy to ye, gentle lovers; joy to all;
A goodly circle, and a fair. Methinks
Wild Nature smooths apace her savage frown,
Moulding her features to a social smile.
Now flies my hope-wing'd fancy o'er the gulf
That lies between us and the aftertime,
When this fine portion of the globe shall teem
With civiliz'd society; when arts,
And industry, and elegance shall reign,
As the shrill war-cry of the savage man
Yields to the jocund shepherd's roundelay.
Oh, enviable country! thus disjoin'd
From old licentious Europe! may'st thou rise,
Free from those bonds which fraud and superstition
In barbarous ages have enchain'd her with;--
Bidding the antique world with wonder view
A great, yet virtuous empire in the west!
Finale.
Freedom, on the western shore
Float thy banner o'er the brave;
Plenty, here thy blessings pour;
Peace, thy olive sceptre wave!
PERCY, WALTER, &c.
Fire-eyed Valour, guard the land;
Here uprear thy fearless crest;
PRINCESS, KATE, ALICE, &c.
Love, diffuse thy influence bland
O'er the regions of the west.
CHORUS, Freedom, &c.
LARRY.
Hither, lassie, frank and pretty,
Come and live without formality.
Thou, in English christen'd Pity,
But call'd, in Irish, Hospitality.
CHORUS, Freedom, &c.
[THE END]
James Nelson Barker's play: Indian Princess: La Belle Sauvage
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