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The Indian Princess: La Belle Sauvage, a play by James Nelson Barker

Act 2 - Scene 3

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_ ACT II
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.] _

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