Rolfe.
Say'st thou?
Smith.
Come, gentlemen, we'll toward the town.
Nantaquas. My sister, you will now return to our father.
Princess. Return, my brother?
Nantaquas. Our father lives but while you are near him. Go, my sister, make him happy with the knowledge of his son's happiness. Farewell, my sister!
[The Princess appears dejected.
Smith.
Once more, my guardian angel, let me thank thee.
[Kissing her hand.
Ere long we will return to thee, with presents
Well worth a princess' and a king's acceptance.
Meantime, dear lady, tell the good Powhatan
We'll show the prince such grace and entertainment,
As shall befit our brother and his son.
Adieu, sweet sister.
Music. They take leave of the Princess; she remains silently dejected; her eyes anxiously follow Rolfe, who lingers behind, and is the last to take leave
Princess. Stranger, wilt thou too come to Werocomoco?
Rolfe. Dost thou wish it, lady?
Princess. [Eagerly.] O yes!
Rolfe. And why, lovely lady?
Princess. My eyes are pleased to see thee, and my ears to hear thee, stranger.
Rolfe. And did not the others who were here also please thy sight and hearing?
Princess. Oh! they were all goodly; but – their eyes looked not like thine; their voices sounded not like thine; and their speeches were not like thy speeches, stranger.
Rolfe. Enchanting simplicity! But why call me stranger? Captain Smith thou callest brother. Call me so too.
Princess. Ah, no!
Rolfe. Then thou thinkest not of me as thou dost of him? [She shakes her head and sighs.] Is Captain Smith dear to thee?
Princess. Oh yes! very dear; [Rolfe is uneasy.] and Nantaquas too: they are my brothers; – but – that name is not thine – thou art —
Rolfe. What, lovely lady?
Princess. I know not; I feel the name thou art, but I cannot speak it.
Rolfe. I am thy lover, dear princess.
Princess. Yes, thou art my lover. But why call me princess?
Rolfe. Dear lady, thou art a king's daughter.
Princess. And if I were not, what wouldst thou call me?
Rolfe. Oh! if thou wert a beggar's, I would call thee love!
Princess. I know not what a beggar is; but oh! I would I were a beggar's daughter, so thou wouldst call me love. Ah! do not longer call me king's daughter. If thou feelest the name as I do, call me as I call thee: thou shalt be my lover; I will be thy lover.
Rolfe. Enchanting, lovely creature!
[Kisses her ardently.
Princess. Lover, thou hast made my cheek to burn, and my heart to beat! Mark it.
Rolfe. Dear innocence!
[Putting his hand to her heart.
Princess. Lover, why is it so? To-day before my heart beat, and mine eyes were full of tears; but then my white brother was in danger. Thou art not in danger, and yet behold – [Wipes a tear from her eye.] Besides, then, my heart hurt me, but now! Oh, now! – Lover, why is it so?
[Leaning on him with innocent confidence.
Rolfe. Angel of purity! thou didst to-day feel pity; and now – Oh, rapturous task to teach thee the difference! – now, thou dost feel love.
Princess. Love!
Rolfe. Love: the noblest, the sweetest passion that could swell thy angel bosom.
Princess. Oh! I feel that 'tis very sweet. Lover, with thy lips thou didst make me feel it. My lips shall teach thee sweet love. [Kisses him, and artlessly looks up in his face; placing her hand upon his heart.] Does thy heart beat?
Rolfe. Beat! O heaven! —
[Robin, who had been with Nima, comes forward.
Robin. Gad! we must end our amours, or we shall be left. Sir, my master, hadn't we better —
Rolfe. Booby! idiot!
Enter Walter
Walter. Sir, lieutenant, the captain awaits your coming up.
Rolfe. I'll follow on the instant.
Princess. Thou wilt not go?
Rolfe. But for a time, love.
Princess. I do not wish thee to leave me.
Rolfe. I must, love; but I will return.
Princess. Soon – very soon?
Rolfe. Very – very soon.
Princess. I am not pleased now – and yet my heart beats. Oh, lover!
Rolfe. My angel! there shall not a sun rise and set, ere I am with thee. Adieu! thy own heavenly innocence be thy safeguard. Farewell, sweet love!
Music. He embraces her and exit, followed by Robin and Walter. Princess looks after him. A pause
Princess. O Nima!
Nima. Princess, white men are pow-wows. The white man put his lips here, and I felt something – here —
[Putting her hand to her heart.
Princess. O lover!
She runs to the place whence Rolfe went out, and gazes after him
Music. Enter from opposite side, Miami
Miami. [Sternly.] Princess!
Princess. [Turning.] Ah!
Miami. Miami has followed thy steps. Thou art the friend of the white men.
Princess. Yes, for they are good and godlike.
Miami. Mine eyes beheld the pale youth part from you; your arms were entwined, your lips were together!
[Struggling with jealousy.
Princess. He is my lover; I am his lover.
[Still looking after Rolfe.
Miami. [Stamps with anger.] Hear me! In what do the red yield to the white men? and who among the red men is like Miami? While I was yet a child, did the dart which my breath blew through my sarbacan ever fail to pierce the eye of the bird? What youth dared, like Miami, to leap from the precipice, and drag the struggling bear from the foaming torrent? Is there a hunter – is there a warrior – skilful and brave as Miami? Come to my cabin, and see the scalps and the skins that adorn it. They are the trophies of the Susquehannock!
Princess. Man, mine eyes will never behold thy trophies. They are not pleased to look on thee.
[Averting her eyes with disgust.
Miami. Ha! [Pause – he resumes in a softened tone.] Princess, I have crossed many woods and waters, that I might bear the daughter of Powhatan to my nation. Shall my people cry out, with scorn, "behold! our prince returns without his bride?" In what is the pale youth above the red Miami?
Princess. Thine eyes are as the panther's; thy voice like the voice of the wolf. Thou shouldst make my heart beat with joy; and I tremble before thee. Oh no! Powhatan shall give me to my lover. I will be my lover's bride!
Music. Miami stamps furiously; his actions betray the most savage rage of jealousy; he rushes to seize the Princess, but, recollecting that her attendants are by, he goes out in an agony, by his gestures menacing revenge. The Princess exit on the opposite side, followed by train
Scene III. Werocomoco
Music. Enter from the palace Powhatan and Grimosco; met by the Princess, who runs to her father
Powhatan. My daughter!
Princess. O father! the furious Miami!
Powhatan. What of the prince?
Princess. Father, my father! do not let the fierce prince bear me to his cruel nation!
Powhatan. How!
Princess. By the spirit of my mother, I implore my father. Oh! if thou deliver me to the Susquehannock, think not thine eyes shall ever again behold me; the first kind stream that crosses our path shall be the end of my journey; my soul shall seek the soul of the mother that loved me, far beyond the mountains.
Powhatan. Daughter, mention not thy mother!
Princess. Her shade will pity her unhappy child, and I shall be at rest in her bosom.
[Weeping.
Powhatan. Rest in my bosom, my child! [She starts with joyful emotion.] Thou shalt not go from thy father.
Princess. Father; dear father!
[Seizing his hand.
Music. An Indian enters, bearing a red hatchet
Indian. King!
Powhatan. Thou art of the train of the Susquehannock: speak.
Indian. My prince demands his bride.
[The Princess clings fearfully to the King.
Powhatan. Tell thy prince, my daughter will not leave her father.
Indian. Will Powhatan forget his promise to Miami?
Powhatan. Powhatan will not forget his promise to her mother; and he vowed, while the angel of death hovered over her, that the eye of tender care should never be averted from her darling daughter.
Indian. Shall not then my prince receive his bride?
Powhatan. The daughter of Powhatan – never.
Indian. Take then his defiance.
[Music. He presents the red hatchet.
Powhatan. The red hatchet! 'Tis well. Grimosco, summon our warriors.
Grimosco. O king! might I —
Powhatan. Speak not. Tell our chiefs to assemble; and show them the war-signal [Exit Grimosco.]. Go, tell your master, the great Powhatan will soon meet him, terrible as the minister of vengeance. [Exit Indian.] The chiefs approach. My child, retire from this war scene.
Princess. O dear parent! thine age should have been passed in the shade of peace; and do I bring my father to the bloody war-path?
Powhatan. Not so; the young prince has often dared my power, and merited my vengeance; he shall now feel both.
Princess. Alas! his nation is numerous and warlike.
Powhatan. Fear not, my child; we will call the valiant Nantaquas from his brothers; the brave English too will join us.
Princess. Ah! then is thy safety and success certain.
[Exit into palace, followed by Nima, &c.
Music. Enter Grimosco and Warriors
Powhatan. Brave chieftains! need I remind you of the victories you have gained; the scalps you have borne from your enemies? Chieftains, another victory must be won; more trophies from your foes must deck your cabins; the insolent Miami has braved your king, and defied him with the crimson tomahawk. Warriors! we will not bury it till his nation is extinct. Ere we tread the war-path, raise to our god Aresqui the song of battle, then march to triumph and to glory.
Song to Aresqui
Aresqui! Aresqui!
Lo! thy sons for war prepare!
Snakes adorn each painted head,
While the cheek of flaming red
Gives the eye its ghastly glare.
Aresqui! Aresqui!
Through the war-path lead aright,
Lo! we're ready for the fight.
War Song
First Indian.
See the cautious warrior creeping!
Second Indian.
See the tree-hid warrior peeping!
First Indian.
Mark! Mark!
Their track is here; now breathless go!
Second Indian.
Hark! Hark!
The branches rustle – 'tis the foe!
Chorus.
Now we bid the arrow fly —
Now we raise the hatchet high.
Where is urg'd the deadly dart,
There is pierced a chieftain's heart;
Where the war-club swift descends,
A hero's race of glory ends!
First Indian.
In vain the warrior flies —
From his brow the scalp we tear.
Second Indian.
Or home the captiv'd prize,
A stake-devoted victim, bear.
First and Second Indian.
The victors advance —
And while amidst the curling blaze,
Our foe his death-song tries to raise —
Dance the warriors' dance.
[War-dance.
Grand Chorus.
Aresqui! Aresqui!
Through the war-path lead aright
Lo! we're ready for the fight.
[March to battle.
ACT III
Scene I. Jamestown – built
Walter and Alice
Walter. One mouthful more. [Kiss.] Oh! after a long lent of absence, what a charming relish is a kiss, served from the lips of a pretty wife, to a hungry husband.
Alice. And, believe me, I banquet at the high festival of return with equal pleasure. But what has made your absence so tedious, prithee?
Walter. Marry, girl, thus it was: when we had given the enemies of our ally, Powhatan, defeature, and sent the rough Miami in chains to Werocomoco, our captain dispatches his lieutenant, Rolfe, to supply his place, here, in the town; and leading us to the water's edge, and leaping into the pinnace, away went we on a voyage of discovery. Some thousand miles we sailed, and many strange nations discovered; and for our exploits, if posterity reward us not, there is no faith in history.
Alice.
And what were your exploits?
Walter.
Rare ones, egad!
We took the devil, Okee, prisoner.
Alice.
And have you brought him hither?
Walter.
No: his vot'ries
Redeem'd him with some score or two of deer-skins.
Then we've made thirty kings our tributaries:
Such sturdy rogues, that each could easily
Fillip a buffalo to death with 's finger.
Alice. But have you got their treasures?
Walter.
All, my girl.
Imperial robes of raccoon, crowns of feather;
Besides the riches of their sev'ral kingdoms —
A full boat load of corn.
Alice.
Oh, wonderful!
Walter.
Aye, is it not? But, best of all, I've kiss'd
The little finger of a mighty queen.
Sweet soul! among the court'sies of her court,
She gave us a Virginian mascarado.
Alice.
Dost recollect the fashion of it?
Walter.
Oh!
Were I to live till Time were in his dotage,
'Twould never from mine eyes. Imagine first,
The scene, a gloomy wood; the time, midnight;
Her squawship's maids of honour were the masquers;
Their masks were wolves' heads curiously set on,
And, bating a small difference of hue,
Their dress e'en such as madam Eve had on
Or ere she eat the apple.
Alice.
Pshaw!
Walter.
These dresses,
All o'er perfum'd with the self-same pomado
Which our fine dames at home buy of old Bruin,
Glisten'd most gorgeously unto the moon.
Thus, each a firebrand brandishing aloft,
Rush'd they all forth, with shouts and frantic yells,
In dance grotesque and diabolical,
Madder than mad Bacchantes.
Alice.
O the powers!
Walter.
When they had finished the divertisement
A beauteous Wolf-head came to me —
Alice.
To you?
Walter.
And lit me with her pine-knot torch to bedward,
Where, as the custom of the court it was,
The beauteous Wolf-head blew the flambeau out,
And then —
Alice.
Well!
Walter.
Then, the light being out, you know,
To all that follow'd I was in the dark.
Now you look grave. In faith I went to sleep.
Could a grim wolf rival my gentle lamb?
No, truly, girl: though in this wilderness
The trees hang full of divers colour'd fruit,
From orange-tawny to sloe-black, egad,
They'll hang until they rot or ere I pluck them,
While I've my melting, rosy nonpareil.
[Kiss.
Alice.
Oh! you're a Judas!
Walter.
Then am I a Jew!
Enter Smith, Percy, Nantaquas, Larry, &c
Smith.
Yet, prince, accept at least my ardent thanks:
A thousand times told over, they would fail
To pay what you and your dear sister claim.
Through my long absence from my people here,
You have sustain'd their feebleness.
Nantaquas.
O brother,
To you, the conqueror of our father's foes;
To you, the sun which from our darken'd minds
Has chas'd the clouds of error, what can we
Not to remain your debtors?
Smith.
Gen'rous soul!
Your friendship is my pride. But who knows aught
Of our young Rolfe?
Percy.
This morning, sir, I hear,
An hour ere our arrival, the lieutenant
Accompanied the princess to her father's.
Smith.
Methinks our laughing friend has found at last
The power of sparkling eyes. What say you, prince,
To a brave, worthy soldier for your brother?
Nantaquas.
Were I to choose, I'd put all other by
To make his path-way clear unto my sister.
But come, sir, shall we to my father's banquet?
One of my train I've sent to give him tidings
Of your long-wish'd for coming.
Smith.
Gentle prince,
You greet my fresh return with welcome summons,
And I obey it cheerfully. Good Walter,
And, worthy sir [To Larry.], be it your care
To play the queen bee here, and keep the swarm
Still gathering busily. Look to it well:
Our new-raised hive must hold no drones within it.
Now, forward, sirs, to Werocomoco.
[Exeunt Smith, Prince, Percy, &c.
Manent Walter and Larry
Walter.
So, my compeer in honour, we must hold
The staff of sway between us.
Larry.
Arrah, man,
If we hould it between us, any rogue
Shall run clean off before it knocks him down,
While at each end we tug for mastery.
Walter.
Tush, man! we'll strike in unison.
Larry.
Go to —
Walter.
And first, let's to the forest – the young sparks
In silken doublets there are felling trees,
Poor, gentle masters, with their soft palms blister'd;
And, while they chop and chop, they swear and swear,
Drowning with oaths the echo of their axe.
Larry.
Are they so hot in choler?
Walter.
Aye.
Larry.
We'll cool 'em;
And pour cold patience down their silken sleeves.
Walter.
Cold patience!
Larry.
In the shape of water, honey.
Walter.
A notable discovery; come away!
Larry.
Ha! isn't that a sail?
Walter.
A sail! a fleet!
[Looking toward the river.
Enter Talman
Talman.
We have discovered nine tall ships.
Larry.
Discovered!
Away, you rogue, we have discovered them,
With nature's telescopes. Run – scud – begone —
Down to the river! Och, St. Pat, I thank you!
Go toward river. Huzza within. Music expresses joyful bustle. Scene closes
Scene II. A grove
Enter Robin and Nima
Robin. Aye, bless you, I knew I should creep into your heart at last, my little dusky divinity.
Nima. Divinity! what's that?
Robin. Divinity – it's a – Oh, it's a pretty title that we lords of the creation bestow upon our playthings. But hist! here they come. Now is it a knotty point to be argued, whether this parting doth most affect the mistress and master, or the maid and man. Let Cupid be umpire, and steal the scales of Justice to weigh our heavy sighs.
[Retire.
Enter Rolfe and Pocahontas
Princess.
Nay, let me on —
Rolfe.
No further, gentle love;
The rugged way has wearied you already.
Princess.
Feels the wood pigeon weariness, who flies,
Mated with her beloved? Ah! lover, no.
Rolfe.
Sweet! in this grove we will exchange adieus;
My steps should point straight onward; were thou with me,
Thy voice would bid me quit the forward path
At every pace, or fix my side-long look,
Spell-bound, upon thy beauties.
Princess.
Ah! you love not
The wild-wood prattle of the Indian maid,
As once you did.
Rolfe.
By heaven! my thirsty ear,
Could ever drink its liquid melody.
Oh! I could talk with thee, till hasty night,
Ere yet the sentinel day had done his watch;
Veil'd like a spy, should steal on printless feet,
To listen to our parley! Dearest love!
My captain has arrived, and I do know,
When honour and when duty call upon me,
Thou wouldst not have me chid for tardiness.
But, ere the matin of to-morrow's lark,
Do echo from the roof of nature's temple,
Sweetest, expect me.
Princess.
Wilt thou surely come?
Rolfe.
To win thee from thy father will I come;
And my commander's voice shall join with mine,
To woo Powhatan to resign his treasure.
Princess.
Go then, but ah! forget not —
Rolfe.
I'll forget
All else, to think on thee!
Princess.
Thou art my life!
I lived not till I saw thee, love; and now,
I live not in thine absence. Long, Oh! long
I was the savage child of savage Nature;
And when her flowers sprang up, while each green bough
Sang with the passing west wind's rustling breath;
When her warm visitor, flush'd Summer, came,
Or Autumn strew'd her yellow leaves around,
Or the shrill north wind pip'd his mournful music,
I saw the changing brow of my wild mother
With neither love nor dread. But now, Oh! now,
I could entreat her for eternal smiles,
So thou might'st range through groves of loveliest flowers,
Where never Winter, with his icy lip,
Should dare to press thy cheek.