Part 13 (2/2)

GRIMOSCO. The valour of thy chiefs may slumber, but the craft of thy priest shall watch. When the English sit at that banquet from which they shall never rise; when their eyes read nothing but friends.h.i.+p in thy looks, there shall hang a hatchet over each victim head, which, at the silent signal of Grimosco--

POWHATAN. Forbear, counsellor of death! Powhatan cannot betray those who have vanquished his enemies; who are his friends, his brothers.

GRIMOSCO. Impious! Can the enemies of your G.o.d be your friends? Can the children of another parent be your brethren? You are deaf to the counsellor: 'tis your priest now speaks. I have heard the angry voice of the Spirit you have offended; offended by your mercy to his enemies.

Dreadful was his voice; fearful were his words. Avert his wrath, or thou art condemned; and the white men are the ministers of his vengeance.

POWHATAN. Priest!

GRIMOSCO. From the face of the waters will he send them, in mighty tribes, and our sh.o.r.es will scarce give s.p.a.ce for their footsteps. Powhatan will fly before them; his beloved child, his wives, all that is dear to him, he will leave behind. Powhatan will fly; but whither? which of his tributary kings will shelter him? Not one. Already they cry, ”Powhatan is ruled by the white; we will no longer be the slaves of a slave!”

POWHATAN. Ha!

GRIMOSCO. Despoiled of his crown, Powhatan will be hunted from the land of his ancestors. To strange woods will the fugitive be pursued by the Spirit whom he has angered--

POWHATAN. Oh, dreadful!

GRIMOSCO. And at last, when the angel of death obeys his call of anguish, whither will go his condemned soul? Not to the fair forests, where his brave fathers are. Oh! never will Powhatan clasp the dear ones who have gone before him. His exiled, solitary spirit will forever houl on the barren heath where the wings of darkness rest. No ray of hope shall visit him; eternal will be his night of despair.

POWHATAN. Forbear, forbear! O priest, teach me to avert the dreadful doom.

GRIMOSCO. Let the white men be slaughtered.

POWHATAN. The angry Spirit shall be appeased. Come.

[_Exit._

GRIMOSCO. Thy priest will follow thee.

_Enter MIAMI._

MIAMI. Excellent Grimosco! Thy breath, priest, is a deadly pestilence, and hosts fall before it. Yet--still is Miami a captive.

GRIMOSCO. Fear not. Before Powhatan reach Werocomoco thou shalt be free.

Come.

MIAMI. Oh, my soul hungers for the banquet; for then shall Miami feast on the heart of his rival!

[_Exeunt with savage triumph._

_Music. The PRINCESS rushes forward, terror depicted in her face. After running alternately to each side, and stopping undetermined and bewildered, speaks._

PRINCESS. O whither shall I fly? what course pursue?

At Werocomoco, my frenzied looks Would sure betray me. What if hence I haste?

I may o'ertake my lover, or encounter My brother and his friends. Away, my Nima!

[_Exit NIMA._

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