The Indian Princess

Alice. Welcome, my bonny Walter.

Walter. A sweet kiss, Alice, to season my bitter tidings. Our captain's lost.

Walter. You shall hear. A league or two below this, we entered a charming stream, that seemed to glide through a fairy land of fertility. I must know more of this, said our captain. Await my return here. So bidding us moor the pinnace in a broad basin, where the Indian's arrows could reach us from neither side, away he went, alone in his boat, to explore the river to its head.

Larry. Gallant soul!

Walter. What devil prompted us to disobey his command I know not, but scarce was he out of sight, when we landed; and mark the end on't: up from their ambuscado started full three hundred black fiends, with a yell that might have appalled Lucifer, and whiz came a cloud of arrows about our ears. Three tall fellows of ours fell: Cassen, Emery, and Robinson. Our lieutenant, with Percy and myself, fought our way to the water side, where, leaving our canoe as a trophy to the victors, we plunged in, ducks, and, after swimming, dodging, and diving like regained the pinnace that we had left like geese.

Alice. Heaven be praised, you are safe; but our poor captain —

Walter. Aye; the day passed and he returned not; we came back for a reinforcement, and to-morrow we find him, or perish.

Alice. Perish! —

Walter. Aye; shame seize the poltroon who wou'dn't perish in such a cause; wou'dn't you, Larry?

Larry. By Saint Patrick, it's the thing I would do, and hould my head the higher for it all the days of my life after.

Walter. But see, our lieutenant and master Percy.

Enter Rolfe and Percy

Rolfe.

Good Walter look to the barge, see it be ready
By earliest dawn.

Walter.

I shall, sir.

Rolfe.

And be careful,
This misadventure be not buzz'd abroad,
Where 't may breed mutiny and mischief. Say
We've left the captain waiting our return,
Safe with the other three; meantime, choose out
Some certain trusty fellows, who will swear
Bravely to find their captain or their death.

Walter.

I'll hasten, sir, about it.

Larry.

Good lieutenant,
Shall I along?

Rolfe.

In truth, brave Irishman,
We cannot have a better. Pretty Alice,
Will you again lose Walter for a time?

Alice. I would I were a man, sir, then, most willingly I'd lose myself to do our captain service.

Rolfe. An Amazon!

Walter.

Oh, 'tis a valiant dove.

Larry. But come; Heaven and St. Patrick prosper us.

    [Exeunt Walter, Larry, Alice.

Rolfe.

Now, my sad friend, cannot e'en this arouse you?
Still bending with the weight of shoulder'd Cupid?
Fie! throw away that bauble, love, my friend:
That glist'ning toy of listless laziness,
Fit only for green girls and growing boys
T' amuse themselves withal. Can an inconstant,
A fickle changeling, move a man like Percy?

Percy.

Cold youth, how can you speak of that you feel not?
You never lov'd.

Rolfe.

Hum! yes, in mine own way;
Marry, 'twas not with sighs and folded arms;
For mirth I sought in it, not misery.
Sir, I have ambled through all love's gradations
Most jollily, and seriously the whilst.
I have sworn oaths of love on my knee, yet laugh'd not;
Complaints and chidings heard, but heeded not;
Kiss'd the cheek clear from tear-drops, and yet wept not;
Listen'd to vows of truth, which I believed not;
And after have been jilted —

Percy.