Perhaps, tho' somewhat it does strain belief, Somewhat diminish'd from your former self, Doom'd to some galling offices, perhaps ; To serve where you commanded; to stand by, Zoa. I will have vengeance! Hence, and let me think. Pot. Give me the picture then. Zoa. I'll bring it presently. Pot. Away, Potowmak; Fie on these thoughts! You are an Indian woman, who, till wrong'd, Zoa. Revenge. I want not to be schooled. Away! Pot. Farewell, then. [Exit. Zoa. Think'st thou I'll weep, and load the air with sighs: A spectacle of pity, sit me down, That men may cry "Poor Zoa" as they pass! No, let the breath that should be spent in sighs, Blow the loose sparks of vengeance to a flame; Enter ALMANZa disguised as an Indian woman.Zoa. Ha! Who art thou? Alm. One who has broke upon your meditations, To learn the shortest road to Zoa's hut. Zoa. What is thy business with her? I am she. Thou art not of our tribe. Alm. You see a Spanish fugitive. Zoa. Nor of your country A Spaniard? Thou art the governor's daughter? 'Tis by heav'ns! (Aside.) Alm. You have guess'd boldly, think not there fore rightly. Zoa. Your pale cheek tells me 'tis a cunning guess, A true one, lady. Alm.. Who and what I am You shall be told hereafter; now suffice it, I am the friend of Raymond. Zo4. Have you seen him? Zoa. In his prison? Did you visit him? Alm. I was the herald of his liberty. - In the warm fold of friendship — Raymond's friend I feel with a keen sense the obligation, And hope ere long to thank you as I ought. [Exeunt. ACT IV. Governor's House. GONSALVO as returning from the pursuit of the Indians, with Attendants. Gons. It is in vain - My rage is idly spent, Wild as the wind that o'er the desert sweeps. My heedless boy! Oh, should this Indian scape me, Raym. (Entering.) Stand by, and let me pass. Gon. Then all is well. Raym. You see I keep my word, sir, My son, another Spanish gentleman, Have been most basely seiz❜d, Raym. What, by the Creeks? Gons. Yes, and are now detain’d Raym. As prisoners, sir? Seiz'd without provocation, and unarm'd. Gons. Ay, as they hunted Raym. 'Tis a grievous fault, In savage Indians most unpardonable: Had they been Spaniards, who to serve their turn, Had kidnapp'd an unciviliz❜d Creek, Whilst they held out to him the right hand of friend ship, Something might have been said: - but for rudeCreeks, Gon. I understand your sneer; but mark me, sir, Raym. Gnats and musquitoes. Gons. Thou shalt be years in dying. Mark me well, PEREZ. (Entering.) Where's the governor, Gon. Ha! what bringest thou? out with thy horrid tale: It cannot be more dismal than thy looks; Nor can my cheek grow paler with the news, Than thine is in the bearing it. Per. Thy son and Florio, Gons. They are dead Per. I hope not so. Gons. Proceed go on. And yet thou fear'st it, speak. Per. We were made prisoners. |