GEORGE WASHINGTON PARKE CUSTIS
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they would not have found me an easy conquest.
Matacoran. Where is thy leader and his warriors?
Hugo. Not far off.
Matacoran. What are the numbers of the English warriors?
Hugo. Including the soldiers in the barques, about three-score.
Matacoran. Ha! not more?
Hugo. An' I be not greatly mistaken, you'll find 'em enough.
Matacoran. Do not deceive me; we Indians have strange tortures for our prisoners; we stick them full of splinters from the oily pine, and then light them into flame, and dance round, singing their funeral songs.
Hugo. Sure, an' the devil's own dance it must be. Well, old Hugo has stood fire in the four quarters of the Old World, and it matters little if he die by fire in the New. I was born in a camp, cradled in a buckler, and these white locks and batter'd arms, are proofs of my long and faithful service. I am thy prisoner, Sir Savage, do with me as you list.
Matacoran. I like thy boldness. An' I give ye liberty what will ye do?
Hugo. Rejoin my banner with all speed.
Matacoran. And then—
Hugo. Fight the enemies of my king and country.
Matacoran. I like thee, old Warrior. Thou shalt return to thy chief, and tell him that Matacoran admires his valour, and bids him to the combat.
Hugo. On my life an' he'll not baulk ye in your bidding.
Matacoran. Thy sword and shield I keep in pledge, which thou may'st redeem in battle; take thy other arms, a brave soldier should never be unarm'd. Thou'rt free—Go.
Hugo. Thank 'ee, Sir Savage. Here's my hand, in an hour hence it will seek thy life in battle. Hugo hopes to redeem his arms where the combat thickens. Farewell, noble, generous enemy, farewell.
(Exit Hugo.)
Matacoran. Soldiers! the hour is come. Be not alarm'd at their noisy arms; grapple with the foe, and his thunder will cease. We exceed them in numbers, of twenty to one—shame if they overcome us. They have great store of riches, win but the battle, and take all my share; this trusty blade will be all my spoil. On, comrades, on—the spirits of thy fathers, thy king, country, all, will behold thy battle. On to victory! 'T is Matacoran leads the way.
(Exeunt cheering.)
Scene 2. Woody country. View of James River. Reports of musketry. Indians fly in terror across the stage.
(Enter Matacoran and Selictaz.)
Matacoran. Fly, Selictaz, to the rear, and bid the guards receive these cowards on their spear points, and turn them back upon the English. (Exit Selictaz.) Now to my chosen guard, and form them on the river bank. The rout continues! Stop, cowards! Ah, those dreadful arms. Stop—'t is your general calls you.
(Exit Matacoran.)
(Enter Smith, Percy, Rolfe, West, and Soldiers.)
Smith. Well done for the onset; spare your shot, and press them, brave comrades, with sword and target. Be my banner, like the eagle of Virginia, soaring above our battle, nor let it rest from its majestic flight, till it perches in triumph on the palace of Powhatan. On, I say! let my war cry be Victory and Virginia!
(Exeunt.)
Scene 3. A Wood. Alarms. Reports of musketry.
(Enter Smith, pressed by many Indians. Smith with an Indian tied to his left arm, uses him as a buckler; he throws the Indian from him dead. Smith is forced over the bank, and appears as fighting in the water. The Indians overpower, and bear him off in their arms.)
(Enter Matacoran.)
Matacoran. There, now, stand firm: and if their armour should resist your arrows it will not repel a spear when thrust by the vigour of a brave man's arm. See, your prince advances first to meet the foe. Indians, place your trust in the spear, in courage, and Matacoran. (Discharge of musketry heard, two Indians fall dead, the rest fly in disorder, uttering loud cries.) All is lost. Oh! cowards, your general's curse, the curse of your king and country attend your flight.
