A Pavilion.
Discovers the Indian King and Queen sitting in State, with
Guards of Indians, Men and Women attending: To them Bacon
richly dress’d, attended by Daring, Fearless and other
Officers; he bows to the King and Queen, who rise to receive
him.
King. I am sorry, Sir, we meet upon these Terms, we who so often have embrac’d as Friends.
Bac. How charming is the Queen! [Aside.] War, Sir, is not my Business nor my Pleasure: Nor was I bred in Arms, my Country’s Good has forc’d me to assume a Soldier’s Life; and ’tis with much regret that I employ the first Effects of it against my Friends: yet whilst I may — whilst this Cessation lasts, I beg we may exchange those Friendships, Sir, we have so often paid in happier Peace.
King. For your part, Sir, you’ve been so noble, that I repent the fatal Difference that makes us meet in Arms. Yet though I’m young, I’m sensible of Injuries; and oft have heard my Grandsire say, That we were Monarchs once of all this spacious World, till you, an unknown People, landing here, distress’d and ruin’d by destructive Storms, abusing all our charitable Hospitality, usurp’d our Right, and made your Friends your Slaves.
Bac. I will not justify the Ingratitude of my Forefathers, but finding here my Inheritance, I am resolv’d still to maintain it so, and by my Sword which first cut out my Portion, defend each Inch of Land, with my last drop of Blood.
Queen. Even his Threats have Charms that please the Heart.
[Aside.
King. Come, Sir, let this ungrateful Theme alone, which is better disputed in the Field.
Queen. Is it impossible there might be wrought an understanding betwixt my Lord and you? ’Twas to that end I first desired this Truce, my self proposing to be Mediator, to which my Lord Cavernio shall agree, could you but condescend — I know you are noble: And I have heard you say our tender Sex could never plead in vain.
Bac. Alas! I dare not trust your pleading, Madam: a few soft Words from such a charming Mouth would make me lay the Conqueror at your Feet, as a Sacrifice for all the Ills he has done you.
Queen. How strangely am I pleas’d to hear him talk.
[Aside.
King. Semernia, see, the Dancers do appear;
Sir, will you take your Seat?
[To Bacon.
[He leads the Queen to a Seat, they sit and talk.
Bac. Curse on his Sports that interrupted me, my very Soul was hovering at my Lip, ready to have discover’d all its Secrets. But oh! I dread to tell her of my pain, and when I wou’d an awful trembling seizes me, and she can only from my dying Eyes read all the Sentiments of my captive Heart.
[Sits down, the rest wait.
Enter Indians that dance Anticks: after the Dance the King
seems in discourse with Bacon, the Queen rises and comes
forth.
Queen. The more I gaze upon this English Stranger, the more Confusion struggles in my Soul: Oft I have heard of Love, and oft this Gallant Man (when Peace had made him pay his idle Visits) has told a thousand Tales of dying Maids; and ever when he spoke, my panting Heart, with a prophetick Fear in Sighs reply’d, I shall fall a Victim to his Eyes.
Enter an Indian.
Indian. Sir, here’s a Messenger from the English Council desires admittance to the General.
[To the King.
Bac. With your Permission he may advance.
[To the King.
Re-enter Indian with Dunce. A Letter.
Dun. All Health and Happiness attend your Honour, this from the honourable Council.
[Gives him a Letter.
King. I’ll leave you till you have dispatch’d the Messenger, and then expect your presence in the Royal Tent.
[Exeunt King, Queen, and Indians.
Bac. Lieutenant, read the Letter.
[To Daring.
Daring reads.
SIR, the necessity of what you have acted makes it pardonable, and
we could wish we had done the Country and our selves so much Justice
as to have given you that Commission you desired. — We now find it
reasonable to raise more Forces, to oppose these Insolences, which
possibly yours may be too weak to accomplish, to which end the
Council is ordered to meet this Evening, and desiring you will come
and take your place there, and be pleas’d to accept from us a
Commission to command in Chief in this War. — Therefore send those
Soldiers under your Command to their respective Houses, and haste,
Sir, to your affectionate Friends —
Fear. Sir, I fear the Hearts and Pen did not agree when this was writ.
Dar. A plague upon their shallow Politicks! Do they think to play the old Game twice with us?
Bac. Away, you wrong the Council, who of themselves are honourable Gentlemen; but the base coward Fear of some of them, puts the rest on tricks that suit not with their Nature.
Dun. Sir, ’tis for noble ends you are sent for, and for your safety I’ll engage my Life.
Dar. By Heaven, and so you shall; — and pay it too with all the rest of your wise-headed Council.
Bac. Your Zeal is too officious now; I see no Treachery, and can fear no Danger.
Dun. Treachery! now Heavens forbid, are we not Christians, Sir, all Friends and Countrymen? believe me, Sir, ’tis Honour calls you to increase your Fame, and he who would dissuade you is your Enemy.
Dar. Go cant, Sir, to the Rabble — for us, we know you.
Bac. You wrong me when you but suspect for me; let him that acts dishonourably fear. My innocence and my good Sword’s my Guard.
Dar. If you resolve to go, we will attend you.
Bac. What, go like an invader! No, Daring, the Invitation’s friendly, and as a Friend attended only by my menial Servants, I’ll wait upon the Council, that they may see that when I could command it, I came an humble Suppliant for their Favour. — You may return, and tell ‘em I’ll attend.
Dun. I kiss your Honour’s Hands —
[Goes out.
Dar. ‘Sdeath, will you trust the faithless Council, Sir, who have so long held you in hand with Promises, that Curse of States-men, that unlucky Vice that renders even Nobility despis’d?
Bac. Perhaps the Council thought me too aspiring, and would not add Wings to my ambitious Flight.
Dar. A pox of their considering Caps, and now they find that you can soar alone, they send for you to knip your spreading Wings. Now, by my Soul, you shall not go alone.
Bac. Forbear, lest I suspect you for a Mutineer; I am resolv’d to go.
Fear. What, and send your Army home; a pretty fetch.
Dar. By Heaven, we’ll not disband, not till we see how fairly you are dealt with: If you have a Commission to be General, here we are ready to receive new Orders: If not, we’ll ring them such a thundring Peal shall beat the Town about their treacherous Ears.
Bac. I do command you not to stir a Man, till you’re inform’d how I am treated by ‘em. — leave me, all.
[Exeunt Officers.
[While Bacon reads the Letter again, to him the Indian Queen
with Women waiting.
Queen. Now while my Lord’s asleep in his Pavilion, I’ll try my Power with the General for an Accommodation of a Peace: The very dreams of War fright my soft Slumbers that us’d to be employ’d in kinder Business.
Bac. Ha! — the Queen — what Happiness is this presents it self which all my Industry could never gain?
Queen. Sir —
[Approaching him.
Bac. Prest with the great extremes of Joy and Fear, I trembling stand, unable to approach her.
Queen. I hope you will not think it Fear in me, though timorous as a Dove by nature fram’d: Nor that my Lord, whose Youth’s unskill’d in War, can either doubt his Courage, or his Forces, that makes me seek a Reconciliation on any honourable Terms of Peace.
Bac. Ah Madam! if you knew how absolutely you command my Fate, I fear but little Honour would be left me, since whatsoe’er you ask me I should grant.
Queen. Indeed I would not ask your Honour, Sir, that renders you too brave in my esteem. Nor can I think that you would part with that. No, not to save your Life.
Bac. I would do more to serve your least commands than part with trivial Life.
Queen. Bless me, Sir, how came I by such a Power?
Bac. The Gods and Nature gave it you in your Creation, form’d with all the Charms that ever grac’d your Sex.
Queen. Is’t possible? am I so beautiful?
Bac. As Heaven, or Angels there.
Queen. Supposing this, how can my Beauty make you so obliging?
Bac. Beauty has still a Power over great Souls, and from the moment I beheld your Eyes, my stubborn Heart melted to compliance, and from a nature rough and turbulent, grew soft and gentle as the God of Love.
Queen. The God of Love! what is the God of Love?
Bac. ’Tis a resistless Fire, that’s kindled thus — at every
[Takes her by the Hand and gazes on her.
gaze we take from such fine Eyes, from such bashful Looks, and such soft Touches — it makes us sigh, — and pant as I do now, and stops the breath when e’er we speak of Pain.
Queen. Alas for me if this should be Love!
[Aside.
Bac. It makes us tremble when we touch the fair one; and all the Blood runs shivering through the Veins, the Heart’s surrounded with a feeble Languishment, the Eyes are dying, and the Cheeks are pale, the Tongue is faltring, and the Body fainting.
Queen. Then I’m undone, and all I feel is Love.
[Aside.
If Love be catching, Sir, by Looks and Touches, let us at distance parley — or rather let me fly, for within view is too near —
[Aside.
Bac. Ah! she retires — displeas’d I fear with my presumptuous Love, — Oh, pardon, fairest Creature.
[Kneels.
Queen. I’ll talk no more, our Words exchange our Souls, and every Look fades all my blooming Honour, like Sun-beams on unguarded Roses — Take all our Kingdoms — make our People Slaves, and let me fall beneath your conquering Sword: but never let me hear you talk again, or gaze upon your Eyes. —
[Goes out.
Bac. She loves! by Heaven, she loves! and has not Art enough to hide her Flame, though she have cruel Honour to suppress it. However, I’ll pursue her to the Banquet.
[Exit.