University of Virginia Library

SCENE IV.

A garden.
Arak and Antonio.
Arak.
That the fair Mora loves you tenderly,
And has for you forgone her love to me,
I doubt no more, nor can I blame the change,
When I contrast my naked ignorance,
With that rich-crown'd, that flowing vestured knowledge,
Which makes you ever to my wond'ring eyes,
Appear the sovereign wisdom of all times.
But while my tongue thus says, what I should say,
My heart, alas, still in its savage grossness,
Yearns at the sacrifice and speaks in tears.

Ant.
No: generous Arak, thy true heart is right,
And 'tis thy judgment that mistakes in this.
I am not worthy of fair Mora's love;
Reclaim her yet, re-win her for thyself,
Would she were worthy thee, and I like thee,
Could merit her by so resigning her.

Arak.
O hapless Mora, fated like thy lover,
To feel the anguish of rejected passion!—
Have you no charm that you can give to me,
To lure her truant heart to its first love!
Or some endearing cordial for yourself,
To make you see her with fond eyes like mine?
But see, Orooko comes. If he can turn
The Queen's affection to her lord again,
Perchance his skill may Mora's too reclaim.

Ant.
[aside]
O Heavens, what horror am I doom'd to suffer?
[Arak during this soliloquy has advanced towards Orooko.]
How the pure fancies of this guileless race
Make the foul odium of my guilt appear!
They look on me as on the orb of day;
O little think they that the light they worship
Gleams but from dead and guilty rottenness,
Compar'd to which they are themselves Heaven's stars.

[Enter Orooko, and Arak returns.]
Orooko.
Unhappy Arak! I will speak to him.

Ant.
[to Orooko.]
Have you been able to relieve the Queen?

Orooko.
[to Ant.]
You only can do that,—why do you start?
The ill that taints her bosom came by you—
And you should, Sir, in bringing such disease,
Have brought with it the needful antidote.
Are such distempers common in your country?

Ant.
I fear they are.

Orooko.
The gentle Mora too,
Arak's betroth'd, has caught the same infection;
Sir, you seem greatly mov'd. I mean no harm,
I only grieve that with the arts you teach,
Such fearful and appalling reprobation,
Should thus destroy the ties of faithful love.

Arak.
But Mora is not, like her royal Mistress,
Afraid and angry when I speak to her.
She owns her love and treats me as a brother.

Orooko.
She owns her love! what love?

Arak.
Love for Antonio!

Ant.
(aside)
Ha! he has caught the truth!

Arak.
What means all this?

Orooko.
Leave us, dear Arak—leave us for a while.
[Exit Arak.
Stay, Sir, you must remain, a word, a word.
The giant bark that brought you to our coast
Seem'd as it welter'd on the surfy shore,
Some monstrous thing presaging woe to us.
From all the haunts of all our woody land,
Successive came our wand'ring tribes, to see
The awful sight. And with compassion mov'd
Our youthful monarch, Yamos, took thy hand
And plac'd thee by himself, an honor'd guest.
At that dire hour your dreadful work began.
You taught us arts—divided us in bands,
These for the chace, and those to seed the soil,
And when your tongue had learnt our simple speech,
You spoke of life and worlds beyond the stars,
And call'd our ancient rites of gratitude,
To the great Spirit—aimless superstition.

Ant.
In doing so, I know that I did well.

Orooko.
The proof of that must show in the effect.
But I proceed—Dissensions rose among us—
Your altars prosper'd, while with hapless me
A few undaunted faithful chose the woods.
Here, here enchanted by your seeming wisdom,
Thousands on thousands swarm'd to raise the town,
And it was rais'd. For this eternal temple,
High in whose measureless concave the sun
A lamp of everlasting splendor shines,
You have th'Apostates from their father's God,
Led to a mansion built by their own hands,
And made them kneel before such feeble emblems,
As the soft-breathing of a bird, might quench;
And you have dungeons rear'd.

Ant.
O let me fly—

Orooko.
Fly! whither. No.—You shall hear all your works,
Now answer me.—The gentle Mora loves you,—
For you her heart has turn'd from gen'rous Arak,
And yet she sees him with nor hate, nor fear—
Thy pallid visage tells me all I ask.—
Go to thy temples, prisons, knowledge, arts,
And find some means to purge our tainted tribes,
From these new sins that thou hast brought with them.