The Indian Princess Part 7

ROBIN. But, master Larry--

WALTER. Prithee, thou evergreen aspen leaf, thou non-intermittent ague!

why didst along with us?

ROBIN. Why, you know, my master Rolfe desired it; and then you were always railing out on me for chicken-heartedness. I came to shew ye I had valour.

WALTER. But forgetting to bring it with thee, thou wouldst now back for it; well, in the name of Mars, go; return for thy valour, Robin.

ROBIN. What! alone?

LARRY. Arrah! then stay here till it comes to you, and then follow us.

ROBIN. Stay here! O Lord, methinks I feel an arrow sticking in my gizzard already! Hark ye, my sweet master, let us sing.

LARRY. Sing?

ROBIN. Sing; I'm always valiant when I sing. Beseech you, let us chaunt the glee that I dish'd up for us three.

LARRY. It has a spice of your cowardly cookery in it.

WALTER. But since 'tis a provocative to Robin's valour--

LARRY. Go to: give a l.u.s.ty hem, and fall on.

_Glee._

We three, adventurers be, Just come from our own country; We have cross'd thrice a thousand ma, Without a penny of money.

We three, good fellows be, Who wou'd run like the devil from Indians three; We never admir'd their bowmandry; Oh, give us whole skins for our money.

We three, merry men be, Who gaily will chaunt our ancient glee, Though a la.s.s or a gla.s.s, in this wild country, Can't be had, or for love, or for money.

LARRY. Well, how do you feel?

ROBIN. As courageous as, as a--

LARRY. As a wren, little Robin. Are you sure, now, you won't be after fancying every deer that skips by you a divil, and every bush a bear?

ROBIN. I defy the devil; but hav'n't you heard, my masters, how the savages go a hunting, drest out in deer-skin? How could you put one in mind, master Larry? O Lord! that I should come a captain-hunting! the only game we put up is deer that carry scalping knives! or if we beat the bush to start a bold commander, up bolts a b.l.o.o.d.y bear!

[_WALTER and LARRY exchange significant nods._

LARRY. To be sure we're in a parlous case. The forest laws are dev'lish severe here: an they catch us trespa.s.sing upon their hunting ground, we shall pay a neat poll-tax: nothing less than our heads will serve.

ROBIN. Our heads?

WALTER. Yes, faith! they'll soon collect their capitation.

They wear men's heads, sir, hanging at the breast, Instead of jewels; and at either ear, Most commonly, a child's, by way of ear-drop.

ROBIN. Oh! curse their finery! jewels, heads, O Lord!

LARRY. Pshaw man! don't fear. Perhaps they'll only burn us.

What a delicate roasted Robin you wou'd make!

Troth! they'd so lick their lips!

ROBIN. A roasted robin!--

WALTER. Tut! if they only burn us, 'twill be brave.

Robin shall make our death-songs.

ROBIN. Death-songs, oh!

[_ROBIN stands motionless with fear._

LARRY. By the good looking right eye of Saint Patrick, There's Rolfe and Percy, with a tribe of Indians. [_Looking out._

ROBIN. Indians! they're pris'ners, and we--we're dead men!

[_While WALTER and LARRY exeunt, ROBIN gets up into a tree._]

O Walter, Larry! ha! what gone, all gone!

Poor Robin, what is to become of thee?

_Enter SMITH, POCAHONTAS, NANTAQUAS, PERCY, ROLFE, NIMA and INDIANS, LARRY and WALTER._

SMITH. At hazard of her own dear life she saved me.

E'en the warm friendship of the prince had fail'd, And death, inevitable death, hung over me.

Oh, had you seen her fly, like Pity's herald, To stay the uplifted hatchet in its flight; Or heard her, as with cherub voice she pled, Like Heav'n's own angel-advocate, for mercy.

POCAHONTAS. My brother, speak not so. [_Bashfully._

ROLFE. What gentleness!

What sweet simplicity! what angel softness!

_ROLFE goes to her. She, timidly, but with evident pleasure, receives his attentions. During this scene the PRINCESS discovers the first advances of love in a heart of perfect simplicity. SMITH, &c., converse apart._

ROBIN. [_In the tree._] Egad! there's never a head hanging to their ears; and their ears hang to their heads, for all the world as if they were christians; I'll venture down among them.

[_Getting down._

NIMA. Ah! [_Bends her bow, and is about to shoot at him._

LARRY. Arrah! my little dark Diana, choose n.o.ble game, that's only little Robin.

ROBIN. Aye, bless you, I'm only little Robin. [_Jumps down._

_NIMA examines him curiously, but fearfully._

ROBIN. Gad, she's taken with my figure; ah! there it is now; a personable fellow shall have his wench any where. Yes, she's admiring my figure.