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SCENE III.
A Grove, a Plantation seen at a little Distance.Aboan
alone.
At length I am alone—but why alone?
My Thoughts are worse Society to me
Than the poor Slaves with whom I'm doom'd to labour—
I cannot bear it—if I turn my View
Backward or forward, round me, or within,
'Tis all Regret, Oppression, and Despair.—
Yet why Despair!—something may yet be done;—
May yet be done—hold—let me most distrust
The flatterer Hope—if she one moment lures me
To patient Suff'rance, from that fatal Moment
Insiduous Slumbers steal upon my Virtue—
I shall—distraction! must grow tame by Habit—
I must—what else has quench'd in those around me
That Indignation which now choaks my Utt'rance?
All Hell is in the Thought—my struggle must be now,
This instant Now—precipitation's Wisdom—
Slaves at a distance.
Slav.
Hoa! Hoa! Aboan Aboan—
Abo.
Hark! here they come—It must, it shall be so
Hackney'd they are in mis'rys new to me,
Like secret Fire that smokeless Embers hide.
Yet still the Love of Liberty must live.
Enter three Slaves.
1st Slav.
Here, where are you? come, to work, to work,
2d Slav.
You are a Stranger, ign'rant of your Duty;
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With many a smarting Blow.
3d Slav.
Aye good Aboan
Come, come with us, for if the Overseer
Ev'n now surprise us—
2d Slav.
Hush, I hear his Voice—
1st Slav.
No, no, 'tis not he—
Abo.
Wou'd he scourge us then?
3d Slav.
Wou'd he? Experience soon will tell you that.
Abo.
Has then Experience ever told it you?
3d Slav.
Has it? don't ask me—wou'd I could say no?
Abo.
You have been beaten then to patient Drudgery.
2d Slav.
'Tis shameful to confess it, yet 'tis true.
Abo.
What to confess is shameful, is it not
More shameful still to suffer?
3d Slav.
What if it be?
Abo.
Then suffer it no longer.
1st Slav.
No longer—no, if we knew how to help it.
Abo.
Knew how?—suppose a Friend should tell you how?
They gather eagerly about him.
2d Slav.
What say you?
1st Slav.
Are there ways?
3d Slav.
Can you tell us?
Abo.
I see by this Impatience you're not quell'd
Into a torpid tame Insensibility;
I'll tell you then such News as shall revive
Each drooping Virtue, string each Nerve anew.
All Slav.
What is it?—what is it?—
Abo.
There is among you now a mighty Prince,
Great as a tutelary God in Arms;
Before the Lightening of whose dreaded Sword,
These pale, cold, half-form'd Tyrants that insult ye
Wou'd vanish, like thin Mists before the Sun.
1st Slav.
What did he come with you?
Abo.
He came with me,
I am myself distinguish'd by his Friendship,
And oft with him have led the Front of Battle.
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But how, where—
3d Slav.
Is there only you and he?
Abo.
There are six more of high Command about him,
All try'd, all firm, all fit for great Atchievements.
1st Slav.
Where are they?
Abo.
The Prince, my Lord, not long since parted from me;
The rest, not now far off, will soon be found—
When we were parted he embrac'd us all;
My Friends, says he, “One thing will comfort us,
“Whatever World we are thrown next upon
“Cannot be worse than this”—
These were my royal Master's Words at parting,
And sure you cannot doubt but they are true.
Shall we then, having nothing worse to fear,
Bear with dull sluggish Patience what we suffer!—
If nothing's worse the Chance is all for gain:—
There can be Danger then in no Attempt;
And if there was 'twere better still, for Danger
Has always its Equivalent in Glory.
The Slaves look on each other eagerly, as silently asking each other what they think—after a Pause
1st Slav.
And will this Prince, and you, and these your Friends
Assist us to be free?
Abo.
Will you with them
Join Hands in the Attempt?—
A Cry without at some distance—the Slaves start and seem terrified.
What cry was that?
2d Slav.
'Tis the Complaint of wretched Slaves, extorted
By bloody Whips laid on without Remorse,
And without Cause—e'er Night perhaps from us,
And you, such Cry may by such Stripes be forc'd—
Abo.
Ye Gods! and shall we not resist it then!
Slaves.
We will—
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Your Hands—at Night we meet again.
Come on—now lead me to my Task.
[Exeunt.
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