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.
ACT II
Scene I. Inside the palace at Werocomoco. Powhatan in state, Grimosco, &c., his wives, and warriors, ranged on each side. Music
Powhatan. My people, strange beings have appeared among us; they come from the bosom of the waters, amid fire and thunder; one of them has our war-god delivered into our hands: behold the white being!
Music. Smith is brought in; his appearance excites universal wonder; Pocahontas expresses peculiar admiration
Pocahontas. O Nima! is it not a God!
Powhatan. Miami, though thy years are few, thou art experienced as age; give us thy voice of counsel.
Miami. Brothers, this stranger is of a fearful race of beings; their barren hunting grounds lie beneath the world, and they have risen, in monstrous canoes, through the great water, to spoil and ravish from us our fruitful inheritance. Brothers, this stranger must die; six of our brethren have fall'n by his hand. Before we lay their bones in the narrow house, we must avenge them: their unappeased spirits will not go to rest beyond the mountains; they cry out for the stranger's blood.
Nantaquas. Warriors, listen to my words; listen, my father, while your son tells the deeds of the brave white man. I saw him when 300 of our fiercest chiefs formed the warring around him. But he defied their arms; he held lightning in his hand. Wherever his arm fell, there sunk a warrior: as the tall tree falls, blasted and riven, to the earth, when the angry Spirit darts his fires through the forest. I thought him a God; my feet grew to the ground; I could not move!
Pocahontas. Nima, dost thou hear the words of my brother.
Nantaquas. The battle ceased, for courage left the bosom of our warriors; their arrows rested in their quivers; their bowstrings no longer sounded; the tired chieftains leaned on their war-clubs, and gazed at the terrible stranger, whom they dared not approach. Give an ear to me, king: 't was then I held out the hand of peace to him, and he became my brother; he forgot his arms, for he trusted to his brother: he was discoursing wonders to his friend, when our chiefs rushed upon him, and bore him away. But oh! my father, he must not die; for he is not a war captive; I promised that the chain of friendship should be bright between us. Chieftains, your prince must not falsify his word; father, your son must not be a liar!
Pocahontas. Listen, warriors; listen, father; the white man is my brother's brother!
Grimosco. King! when last night our village shook with the loud noise, it was the Great Spirit who talk'd to his priest; my mouth shall speak his commands: King, we must destroy the strangers, for they are not our God's children; we must take their scalps, and wash our hands in the white man's blood, for he is an enemy to the Great Spirit.
Nantaquas. O priest, thou hast dreamed a false dream; Miami, thou tellest the tale that is not. Hearken, my father, to my true words! the white man is beloved by the Great Spirit; his king is like you, my father, good and great; and he comes from a land beyond the wide water, to make us wise and happy!
Powhatan deliberates. Music
Powhatan. Stranger, thou must prepare for death. Six of our brethren fell by thy hand. Thou must die.
Pocahontas.
Father, O father!
Smith.
Had not your people first beset me, king,
I would have prov'd a friend and brother to them;
Arts I'd have taught, that should have made them gods,
And gifts would I have given to your people,
Richer than red men ever yet beheld.
Think not I fear to die. Lead to the block.
The soul of the white warrior shall shrink not.
Prepare the stake! amidst your fiercest tortures,
You'll find its fiery pains as nobly scorned,
As when the red man sings aloud his death-song.
Pocahontas.
Oh! shall that brave man die!
Music. The King motions with his hand, and Smith is led to the block
Miami. [To executioners.] Warriors, when the third signal strikes, sink your tomahawks in his head.
Pocahontas. Oh, do not, warriors, do not! Father, incline your heart to mercy; he will win your battles, he will vanquish your enemies! [First signal.] Brother, speak! save your brother! Warriors, are you brave? preserve the brave man! [Second signal.] Miami, priest, sing the song of peace; ah! strike not, hold! mercy!
Music. The third signal is struck, the hatchets are lifted up: when the Princess, shrieking, runs distractedly to the block, and presses Smith's head to her bosom
White man, thou shalt not die; or I will die with thee!
Music. She leads Smith to the throne, and kneels
My father, dost thou love thy daughter? listen to her voice; look upon her tears: they ask for mercy to the captive. Is thy child dear to thee, my father? Thy child will die with the white man.
Plaintive music. She bows her head to his feet. Powhatan, after some deliberation, looking on his daughter with tenderness, presents her with a string of white wampum. Pocahontas, with the wildest expression of joy, rushes forward with Smith, presenting the beads of peace
Captive! thou art free! —
Music. General joy is diffused —Miami and Grimosco only appear discontented. The prince Nantaquas congratulates Smith. The Princess shows the most extravagant emotions of rapture
Smith.
O woman! angel sex! where'er thou art,
Still art thou heavenly. The rudest clime
Robs not thy glowing bosom of its nature.
Thrice blessed lady, take a captive's thanks!
[He bows upon her hand.
Pocahontas.
My brother! —
[Music. Smith expresses his gratitude.
Nantaquas. Father, hear the design that fills my breast. I will go among the white men; I will learn their arts; and my people shall be made wise and happy.
Pocahontas. I too will accompany my brother.
Miami. Princess! —
Pocahontas. Away, cruel Miami; you would have murdered my brother! —
Powhatan. Go, my son; take thy warriors, and go with the white men. Daughter, I cannot lose thee from mine eyes; accompany thy brother but a little on his way. Stranger, depart in peace; I entrust my son to thy friendship.
Smith. Gracious sir,
He shall return with honours and with wonders;
My beauteous sister! noble brother, come!
Music. Exeunt, on one side, Smith, Princess, Nantaquas, Nima, and train. On the other, King, Priest, Miami, &c. The two latter express angry discontent
Scene II. A forest
Enter Percy, Rolfe
Rolfe.
So far indeed 'tis fruitless, yet we'll on.
Percy.
Aye, to the death.
Rolfe.
Brave Percy, come, confess
You have forgot your love.
Percy.
Why, faith, not quite;
Despite of me, it sometimes through my mind
Flits like a dark cloud o'er a summer sky;
But passes off like that, and leaves me cloudless.
I can't forget that she was sweet as spring;
Fair as the day.
Rolfe.
Aye, aye, like April weather;
Sweet, fair, and faithless.
Percy.
True alas! like April!
Song– Percy
Fair Geraldine each charm of spring possest,
Her cheek glow'd with the rose and lily's strife;
Her breath was perfume, and each winter'd breast
Felt that her sunny eyes beam'd light and life.
Alas! that in a form of blooming May,
The mind should April's changeful liv'ry wear!
Yet ah! like April, smiling to betray,
Is Geraldine, as false as she is fair!
Rolfe.
Beshrew the little gipsy! let us on.
[Exeunt Percy, Rolfe.
Enter Larry, Walter, Robin, &c
Larry. Go no further? Och! you hen-hearted cock robin!
Robin. But, master Larry —
Walter. Prithee, thou evergreen aspen leaf, thou non-intermittent ague! why didst along with us?
Robin. Why, you know, my master Rolfe desired it; and then you were always railing out on me for chicken-heartedness. I came to shew ye I had valour.
Walter. But forgetting to bring it with thee, thou wouldst now back for it; well, in the name of Mars, go; return for thy valour, Robin.
Robin. What! alone?
Larry. Arrah! then stay here till it comes to you, and then follow us.
Robin. Stay here! O Lord, methinks I feel an arrow sticking in my gizzard already! Hark ye, my sweet master, let us sing.
Larry. Sing?
Robin. Sing; I'm always valiant when I sing. Beseech you, let us chaunt the glee that I dish'd up for us three.
Larry. It has a spice of your cowardly cookery in it.
Walter. But since 'tis a provocative to Robin's valour —
Larry. Go to: give a lusty hem, and fall on.
Glee
We three, adventurers be,
Just come from our own country;
We have cross'd thrice a thousand ma,
Without a penny of money.
We three, good fellows be,
Who wou'd run like the devil from Indians three;
We never admir'd their bowmandry;
Oh, give us whole skins for our money.
We three, merry men be,
Who gaily will chaunt our ancient glee,
Though a lass or a glass, in this wild country,
Can't be had, or for love, or for money.
Larry. Well, how do you feel?
Robin. As courageous as, as a —
Larry. As a wren, little Robin. Are you sure, now, you won't be after fancying every deer that skips by you a divil, and every bush a bear?
Robin. I defy the devil; but hav'n't you heard, my masters, how the savages go a hunting, drest out in deer-skin? How could you put one in mind, master Larry? O Lord! that I should come a captain-hunting! the only game we put up is deer that carry scalping knives! or if we beat the bush to start a bold commander, up bolts a bloody bear!
[Walter and Larry exchange significant nods.
Larry. To be sure we're in a parlous case. The forest laws are dev'lish severe here: an they catch us trespassing upon their hunting ground, we shall pay a neat poll-tax: nothing less than our heads will serve.
Robin. Our heads?
Walter.
Yes, faith! they'll soon collect their capitation.
They wear men's heads, sir, hanging at the breast,
Instead of jewels; and at either ear,
Most commonly, a child's, by way of ear-drop.
Robin.
Oh! curse their finery! jewels, heads, O Lord!
Larry.
Pshaw man! don't fear. Perhaps they'll only burn us.
What a delicate roasted Robin you wou'd make!
Troth! they'd so lick their lips!
Robin.
A roasted robin! —
Walter.
Tut! if they only burn us, 'twill be brave.
Robin shall make our death-songs.
Robin.
Death-songs, oh!
[Robin stands motionless with fear.
Larry.
By the good looking right eye of Saint Patrick,
There's Rolfe and Percy, with a tribe of Indians.
[Looking out.
Robin.
Indians! they're pris'ners, and we – we're dead men!
[While Walter and Larry exeunt, Robin gets up into a tree.]
O Walter, Larry! ha! what gone, all gone!
Poor Robin, what is to become of thee?
Enter Smith, Pocahontas, Nantaquas, Percy, Rolfe, Nima and Indians, Larry and Walter
Smith.
At hazard of her own dear life she saved me.
E'en the warm friendship of the prince had fail'd,
And death, inevitable death, hung over me.
Oh, had you seen her fly, like Pity's herald,
To stay the uplifted hatchet in its flight;
Or heard her, as with cherub voice she pled,
Like Heav'n's own angel-advocate, for mercy.
Pocahontas. My brother, speak not so.
[Bashfully.
Rolfe.
What gentleness!
What sweet simplicity! what angel softness!
Rolfe goes to her. She, timidly, but with evident pleasure, receives his attentions. During this scene the Princess discovers the first advances of love in a heart of perfect simplicity. Smith, &c., converse apart
Robin. [In the tree.] Egad! there's never a head hanging to their ears; and their ears hang to their heads, for all the world as if they were christians; I'll venture down among them.
[Getting down.
Nima. Ah!
[Bends her bow, and is about to shoot at him.
Larry. Arrah! my little dark Diana, choose noble game, that's only little Robin.
Robin. Aye, bless you, I'm only little Robin.
[Jumps down.
Nima examines him curiously, but fearfully
Robin. Gad, she's taken with my figure; ah! there it is now; a personable fellow shall have his wench any where. Yes, she's admiring my figure. Well, my dusky dear, how could you like such a man as I am?
Nima. Are you a man?
Robin. I'll convince you of it some day. Hark ye, my dear.
[Attempts to whisper.
Nima. Ah! don't bite.
Robin. Bite! what do you take me for?
Nima. A racoon.
Robin. A racoon! Why so?
Nima. You run up the tree.
[Motions as if climbing.
Larry.
Well said, my little pagan Pythagoras! —
Ha! ha!
Robin. Hum!
[Retires disconcerted.
Rolfe and Percy come forward
Rolfe.
Tell me, in sooth, didst ever mark such sweetness!
Such winning – such bewitching gentleness!
Percy.
What, caught, my flighty friend, love-lim'd at last?
O Cupid, Cupid! thou'rt a skilful birder.
Although thou spread thy net, i' the wilderness,
Or shoot thy bird-bolt from an Indian bow,
Or place thy light in savage ladies' eyes,
Or pipe thy call in savage ladies' voices,
Alas! each tow'ring tenant of the air
Must fall heart pierc'd – or stoop, at thy command,
To sigh his sad notes in thy cage, O Cupid!
Rolfe.
A truce; a truce! O friend, her guiltless breast
Seems Love's pavilion, where, in gentle sleep,
The unrous'd boy has rested. O my Percy!
Could I but wake the slumb'rer —
Percy.
Nay, i' faith,
Take courage; thou hast given the alarm:
Methinks the drowsy god gets up apace.