Part 3 (1/2)
LARRY. You're a calf, master Robin. Wasn't it raining? Och, I shall never forget it; the thunder rolling, and her tongue a-going, and her tears and the rain; och, bother, but it was a dismal morning!
_Song_--LARRY.
I.
Och! dismal and dark was the day, to be sure, When Larry took leave of sweet Katy Maclure; And clouds dark as pitch hung just like a black lace O'er the sweet face of Heav'n and my Katy's sweet face.
Then, while the wind blow'd, and she sigh'd might and main, Drops from the black skies Fell--and from her black eyes; Och! how I was soak'd with her tears--and the rain.
[_Speaks._] And then she gave me this beautiful keep-sake [_Shows a pair of scissors._], which if ever I part with, may a tailor clip me in two with his big shears. Och! when Katy took you in hand, how nicely did you snip and snap my bushy, carroty locks; and now you're cutting the hairs of my heart to pieces, you tieves you--
[_Sings._] Och! Hubbaboo--Gramachree--Hone!
II.
When I went in the garden, each bush seem'd to sigh Because I was going--and nod me good-bye; Each stem hung its head, drooping bent like a bow, With the weight of the water--or else of its woe; And while sorrow, or wind, laid some flat on the ground, Drops of rain, or of grief, Fell from every leaf, Till I thought in a big show'r of tears I was drown'd.
[_Speaks._] And then each bush and leaf seem'd to sigh, and say, ”don't forget us, Larry.” I won't, said I.--”But arrah, take something for remembrance,” said they; and then I dug up this neat jewel [_Shows a potato._]; you're a little withered to be sure, but if ever I forget your respectable family, or your delightful dwelling place--may I never again see any of your beautiful brothers and plump sisters!--Och! my darling, if you had come hot from the hand of Katy, how my mouth would have watered at ye; now, you divil, you bring the water into my eyes.
[_Sings_.] Och! Hubbaboo--Gramachree--Hone! [_Exeunt._
SCENE III. _Werocomoco, the royal village of POWHATAN. INDIAN GIRLS arranging ornaments for a bridal dress. Music._
NIMA. Let us make haste, my companions, to finish the dress of the bride; to-day the prince Miami returns with our hunters from the chase; to-morrow he will bear away our princess to his own nation.
_Enter POCAHONTAS from the wood, with bow and arrow, and a flamingo (red bird). Music as she enters._
PRINCESS. See, Nima, a flamingo.
_INDIAN GIRLS crowd around, and admire the bird._
PRINCESS. O Nima! I will use my bow no longer; I go out to the wood, and my heart is light; but while my arrow flies, I sorrow; and when the bird drops through the branches, tears come into mine eyes. I will no longer use my bow.
_Distant hunting-horn. Music. They place themselves in att.i.tudes of listening. Hunting-horn nearer._
NIMA. 'Tis Miami and our hunters. Princess, why are your looks sad?
PRINCESS. O Nima! the prince comes to bear me far from my father and my brother. I must quit for ever the companions and the woods that are dear to me. Nima, the Susquehannocks are a powerful nation, and my father would have them for his friends. He gives his daughter to their prince, but his daughter trembles to look upon the fierce Miami.
_Music. HUNTERS seen winding down the hills; they are met by the women of the village; MIAMI approaches POCAHONTAS, and his attendants lay skins at her feet._
MIAMI. Princess, behold the spoils I bring thee. Our hunters are laden with the deer and the soft furred beaver. But Miami scorned such prey: I watched for the mighty buffalo and the s.h.a.ggy bear; my club felled them to the ground, and I tore their skins from their backs. The fierce carcajou had wound himself around the tree, ready to dart upon the hunter; but the hunter's eyes were not closed, and the carcajou quivered on the point of my spear. I heard the wolf howl as he looked at the moon, and the beams that feel upon his upturned face shewed my tomahawk the spot it was to enter. I marked where the panther had crouched, and, before he could spring, my arrow went into his heart. Behold the spoil the Susquehannock brings thee!
PRINCESS. Susquehannock, thou'rt a mighty hunter. Powhatan shall praise thee for his daughter. But why returns not my brother with thee?
MIAMI. Nantaquas still finds pleasure in the hunt, but the soul of Miami grew weary of being away from Werocomoco, for there dwelt the daughter of Powhatan.
PRINCESS. Let us go to my father.
_Music. Exeunt PRINCESS and MIAMI into palace, followed by NIMA and train; the others into their several cabins._
SCENE IV. _A Forest. SMITH enters, bewildered in its mazes. Music, expressive of his situation._