“ White man, awake; the rattle-snake is near; "The tyger is not couch'd yet." I awoke:

It was a woman

she drew back awhile

Το

gaze full on me,

and put forth her hand

With such a look of kindness (pardon me,

I ne'er can think on't with impunity) –
She led me to her hut, brought me fresh food,
And water from the spring-watch'd o'er my sleep,
And when I woke, she brought me food again;
Thus three long weeks she nurs'd me, and meanwhile
Taught me her language with a breath so sweet,
And was so apt a scholar learning mine,
(For of such little offices as these,

The mighty sum of love is all made up)
That with reviving health I drew in that
Which wanted still a cure; and not long after,
When of the Creeks I was appointed chief,
Then I remember'd Zoa, and her care
Of me at life's extremity. Yes, then,
In the full face of our assembled warriors,
I took her for my wife; and shall I leave her?
No, not for all the white-complexion'd dames
That dazzle Europe: never, never.

Alm. Accursed be she who tempts thee. - I am

come

To seek your faithful friendship, not your love.

If by a father's tyranny compell'd,
And urg'd beyond the patience of my sex,
I should take shelter with you

Raym.

With the Creeks?

True, 'tis sweet;

Alm. Ay, for I pant for freedom:

Raym.

But to the bird who never stretch'd his wing,

Or felt the season's sharp vicissitudes,

Fed by your hand, and lodg'd within your bosom,
Freedom is fatal, lady.-- Have you ponder'd

Well on the horrors of the savage state?

How our rude modes will shock your gentle breeding?
Our simple fare mock your high-season'd palate?
Our mean attire your heavenly beauty shroud?

On the bare earth can those soft limbs find slumber?
And then our habitations,

For beasts to hovel in.

Alm.

ah ! too mean

Yes, I have thought

Of all the ills your fancy conjures up ;

Ay, and of more: the road I know is rough,
And I ill shod for such a pilgrimage;

Yet not the elements, nor man, nor beast,
Can to this heart strike terror more profound,
Than a stern father's uncontracting brow,

Who, on the altar of his mad ambition,

Would offer up his child. — Will you protect me?

Raym. Yet pause upon the brink of resolution, Nor in a fit of spleen, a flush of anger,

A momentary tumult in the blood,

Dothat which will bring long repentant days,
Ornights of lonely hopeless meditation,
And leave a sharp imperishable thorn,
When all the rose is withered.

Alm.

Because I am a woman.

Raym.

You speak thus,

No, believe me,

Oh! when the loud-tongued trumpet, and the drum, Stirs all his soul, a soldier's wounds but warm him; But in the after calm, when slaughter sleeps,

Then as he festers in the midnight air,

And raw winds pierce his mangled body thro',
He curses honour and disclaims ambition.

I could say more, if time would halt to hear me;
But the day wears, and e'er the downward sun
Kisses the ocean, I would see the Creeks;
Suffice it, lady, after having call'd

Your thoughts to counsel, should you still resolve
To keep your desp'rate resolution,

Such welcome as rude savages can give,

You may command.

Alm. Come I will lead you to the light of day. Would I could bear to all, the thrilling voice

Of liberty, and thro' the peopled earth,
Unbar the dungeons of captivity.

Scene, the Governor's House.

GONSALVO and ABDALLAH.

Gons. My daughter not return'd?

Abd.

[Exeunt.

She's coming, sir.

Gons. Say, I would speak with her. (Exit AB

DALLAH.) 'Tis now unlucky

I ever promised her to Florio ;

I was too sudden in my resolution:

The wise make no resolves for still to-morrow

Laughs at the cunning purpose of to-day,

And man's the slave of circumstance. (Enter ALMANZA.)

Well, girl,

What think you of our Indian prisoner?

Could you not love him?

Alm.

Yes, my father,

As I love all men, charitably love him ;
But never with that fulness of the heart,

Which can love only one

Gons. He may divorce her.

Alm.

Gons. How?

He has a wife, sir,

Why then he shall not.

Alm. Be not angry, sir. I have been ever A most obedient child; from memory's dawn'*

* This speech is transferred from The Curfew.

I've hung with silent awe upon your lips,
And in my heart your counsels treasured up,
Next to the hallow'd precepts of my God:
But with a new delight my bosom throbb'd,
When first you talk'd of Florio. — You said, sir,
He was a handsome, youth

I thought so too

A brave one; my heart beat with fearful joy.

You said he was not rich, I heav'd a sigh

And turn'd my head; but whilst the struggling tear Stood in my eye, you swore that fortune's gifts

Were mean compar'd with nature's - Then, my father, You bad me learn to love him.

Gons.

Once indeed

I had a foolish dream of such a thing.

Alm. Oh, but I dream so still.

Gons.

'Tis time to wake then.

Enter GASPRO.

Well, sir, why break you in with that pale face?
There lives a wild impatience in your looks,

To utter horrid tidings

Gasp.

Speak!

Your son!

Gons. Well, what of him? Is he made pris'ner,

speak ;

Orfallen from his horse? the worst, and quickly.

Gasp. Near to the line which parts us from the Creeks,