University of Virginia Library

ACT II.

SCENE I.

Sakia, Beaufort.
Sak.
When meets the Council?

Beauf.
Already they're assembled,
And now dispose of mine and your Son's Fate,
The beautiful Irene,
And in an hour here we expect Zephario,
Who must impart their final Resolution to us.

Sak.
Have they debated yet of Peace and War?

Beauf.
That the Angian Council have referr'd to me,
And to your Son, and to the wise Zephario.

Sak.
When will my Son vouchsafe to hear his Mother?

Beauf.
See, where he comes to attend you.

SCENE II.

Sakia, Ulamar.
Ulam.
My Mother!

Sak.
My Son!
Oh may the Bounty of th' eternal Mind
Show'r down his choicest Blessings on my Ulamar!

Ulam.
Oh may he but prolong the present Blessing!
That I may long behold the best of Mothers.

Sak.
And yet you could desert this Mother, Ulamar,
And could resist her absolute Commands,
And all her soft Entreaties could despise;
And I behold thee here in spight of both,
All dismal with the pretious Blood of Hurons
And their Allies, Heav'n knows, alas, whose Blood!
Why would'st thou thus against my softest Pray'rs,
Do an unnatural Deed that thus should pierce
The tender Bowels of the Wretch that bore thee?

Ulam.
And how could I avoid it? how resist
Th' Almighty Voice of God, and the great Call
Of Nature urging me to repel Force
By Force, and to defend my self and you?

Sak.
O name not me! for me thou hast undone.

Ulam.
And how could I resist my Country's Call?
That awful Call that in extreme Distress
Aloud implor'd my Aid?

Sak.
Thy Country! Ah! thou fought'st against it, Ulamar,
And hast embru'd thy Hands in its dear Blood.

Ulam.
My Hands are nobly painted with the Blood
Of Hurons and of French, its mortal Foes.

Sak.
And canst thou then so utterly forget
That thou wert born upon th' Huronian Lake?

Ulam.
No, but I know that I am an Angian now,
My Hand, my Heart, my Soul are Angians all.

Sak.
And has a twelve Years Bondage so estrang'd thee,
That thou esteem'st thy Countrymen thy Foes?
O Weakness to be pitied or despis'd!

Ulam.
For ever blest be that eternal Pow'r
That gave me a human comprehensive Soul,
That can look down upon all narrow Principles.
For every brave Man's Country is the Universe,
His Countrymen Mankind, but chiefly those
Who wish the Happiness of all the rest,
And who are Friends to all their Fellow Creatures:
And such are all the brave Iroquian Tribes,
Such are th' unconquer'd English, free themselves,
And loving all who actually are free,
And all who sadly sigh for Liberty;
But hating Tyrants and their Slaves alike,
And equally contemning both as fall'n
Below the Dignity of Human Nature.

Sak.
Tyrants are odious, Slaves are to be pitied,
Our own sad Fate has told us so.

Ulam.
To me all Slaves are odious as their Tyrants,
I mean all Slaves who are the Tools of Tyrants,
They are true Slaves, who have the Souls of Slaves,
And worse than Beasts make use of their own Hands,
To clinch the Chains which first their Masters tied.
Such tame and wretched things are all your Hurons,
No Countrymen for me who here disown them,
Such are those Pests of Human Race the French,
Damn'd to eternal Slavery themselves,
And therefore would like Devils damn Mankind.

Sak.
The Hurons thou disown'st, disown them still,
But know amongst them are thy dear Relations,
Whom God and Nature charges thee to cherish:
How canst thou tell that in the late fought Field
Thou didst not meet thy Father in thy Foe?
Yes, how canst thou be sure thou didst not lift
Thy impious Head against his sacred Life,
And stabbing me in him in whom I live,
Act in one blow a double paracide!

Ulam.
When e'er I cease to hearken to the Dictates
Of the World's Ruler and his Servant Nature,
I shall deserve to be a thing accurst;
In the late Fight that I might spare my Kindred,
I shun'd your Hurons and attack'd the French,
And urging thro' their troops my glorious Way,
I made a slaughter of their bravest Chiefs,
Which they will long with bitter Woe remember.

Sak.
Ha! have a care! thou sayest Mankind's thy Kindred,
Among the French too thou might'st find Relations.

Ulam.
'Tis true we were created Brothers all,
And all descend from one eternal Sire;
But whom the Father for his Sons disowns,
I own not for my Brethren; no, the Brave
And Just are only Brethren worthy me,
And such I shall respect where e'er I find them.

Sak.
And canst thou fondly think there are no such
Among the Squadrons of the warlike French?

Ulam.
I know there are.
When first in the late Fight with my good Sword,
I carried Death among the Faithless French;
One of their foremost Leaders I observ'd,
Who mow'd our Iroquois like ripen'd Corn,
Extending them in Ranks along the Plain;
With him went all his Souldiers Hearts and Eyes;
And long live Miramont aloud they cry'd.

Sak.
Ha! Miramont! Ah Gods! [Apart]
speak that again!

Ulam.
Yes, long live Miramont aloud they cry'd.

Sak.
Speak on, [Apart]
tho' something dire is on thy Tongue.

Ulam.
In short, that Frenchman shew'd himself so brave,
That he appear'd a Conquest worthy me.

Sak.
By Heav'n the very dismal thing I fear'd.

[Apart.
Ulam.
With Indignation stung I on him flew,
And in my first Attack was so successful,
That from his wounded Arm his Weapon dropt.

Sak.
What will become of the forlorn Sakia!

[Apart.
Ulam.
Then with Revenge inflam'd I on him rush'd,
And my good Sword presenting to his Heart.

Sak.
O Heav'n and Earth! O Nature canst thou bear it!

[Apart.
Ulam.
Die, die, said I, perfidious Villain die!

Sak.
O Miramont, thou Darling of my Soul,
Would I had never heard of thee again!
[Apart.
O wretched Father! and O cursed Son!

Ulam.
Madam, you tremble, and a deadly Pale
O'erspreads your Face; what strange Disorder's this?

Sak.
I'm always on the wrack when Blood is spilt.

Ulam.
Then now be calm, for here no Blood was spilt.

Sak.
How's that? indeed! is't possible! just Heav'n.

Ulam.
Madam, 'tis certain.
For looking sternly in the Frenchman's Face,
While Fate stood threatning on my lifted Arm,
Thro' his undaunted Eyes I saw his Soul,
So great, so awful and so truly noble,
That I rever'd the Sight, and check'd my Hand,
And gave him Liberty, the Salt of Life,
And sent him to his own; and now you see,
I can acknowledge Virtue in a Foe,
And can respect it, and reward it too.

Sak.
Ha! what a turn of wondrous Fate is here?
And how shall I conceal my impetuous Joy?
Miramont lives, my Soul's Desire is near me,
[Apart.
And Happiness begins to dawn from Heav'n;
He lives; and Love and I shall meet again.
Oh! unexpected ravishing return,
To Bliss, too swift and mighty to be born!
'Twas but last moment that I felt Despair,
The very worst of ills; and now I hope,
Ay now I entertain the charming Hope,
Of holding him of whom my Soul is fond,
Of holding him in these desiring Arms,
And I shall see, O I shall die with Joy!
Yes, I shall see my Love, my Life again.
O let me see him, Gods, and let me die!

Ulam.
Madam, your Looks discover great Disorder.
She hears me not, nor sees me; now her Eyes
Seem deeply fix'd upon some absent object;
And now they wildly rowl.
What mean these Musings, and these sudden Starts?
And these Convulsions that thus shake her Soul!
Heav'n long preserve my Mother! Madam hear me,
Some body comes, retire before they appproach,
And be not seen in this extreme Disorder.

[Leads her out, and returns.

SCENE III.

Ulamar, Beaufort.
Beauf.
My Ulamar!

Ulam.
My Friend.
Ha! thou look'st sad, whenever thou art griev'd,
Alas I find 'tis I my self that suffer;
What Thought disturbs my Friend?

Beauf.
Thy sympathizing Grief disturbs thy Friend,
But when I think of losing thee, oh then!

Ulam.
That loss would quickly be repair'd, for thou,
Who mad'st me what I am can'st make another;
And form him fit for Friendship and for thee.

Beauf.
'Twas Heav'n alone could make thee what thou art,
A Jewel of inestimable Price,
I added to thy Lustre, not thy Worth,
And the small Pains I took to make thee shine,
Makes thee more pretious in my joyful Eyes;
But when I think of losing thee.

Ulam.
I will not think of losing thee,
I cannot bear the Thought.

Beauf.
Whose must Irene be?

Ulam.
Heav'n only knows,
But will alas in one half Hour declare.

Beauf.
Whose is her Heart, for thou hast oft enquir'd.

Ulam.
But never yet could find.

Beauf.
To me she still has too respectful been,
And much too cold and too indifferent.

Ulam.
And too uneasie and reserv'd to me.

Beauf.
Perhaps some happier Man among the Crow'd,
Of her Adorers while we sigh in vain,
Possesses all her Soul; 'tis hard to think,
That she whose Beauty captivates all Hearts,
Should be like Virtue, with her self content,
And never know desire.
Try her once more at this important Juncture,
For I have search'd into her Heart in vain;
'Tis true, my Soul is of her Beauty fond,
As ev'n of Glory, with whose noble fire,
It twenty Years succesfully has burn'd;
Yet I who see my fortieth Sun renew'd;
Will entertain no Passion that revolts,
From Reasons sovereign and eternal Law.
'Tis true I would, for who would not be blest?
But will not by her Misery be blest.

Ulam.
Nor I by Heav'n!

Beauf.
But now let me conjure thee Ulamar,
Ev'n by that charming Hope that makes us languish,
By holy Friendship's venerable Bond
That now confines us in this strict Embrace,
By the Remembrance of those happy Hours
Which we have past exciting one another
To elevated Thoughts and glorious Deeds;
For whomsoever Fate reserves Irene,
Oh let him not be blest by halves,
Let him not lose his Friend?
May never any Coldness come till Death,
Between our Loves and us!

Ulam.
Not Death himself
Unless he quite extinguishes my Mind,
Shall make me cold to Beaufort.

Beauf.
But our Fate comes, and I must disappear.

SCENE IV.

Ulamar, Irene.
Iren.
Was not that Beaufort? why does he avoid us?
What makes him look so sad?

Ulam.
By Heav'n she seems concern'd for him.
[Apart.
Thrice happy Beaufort!
Whose Sorrow ev'n in absence has the force,
To move your Soul, while I before your Eyes
Unpitied can despair.

Iren.
Ah you mistake me, Ulamar!
Oh that I had the Pow'r as I have the Will
To bring soft Peace to ev'ry troubled Breast!

Ulam.
And 'tis that Virtue that undoes me more,
'Tis not that Angel's Face, nor Angel's Form,
That Form surpassing all your lovely Sex;
'Tis not that winning Pomp of outward Graces
Which upon you, as on their Queen attend;
But 'tis your mind that Captivates my Soul,
Your Mind in Youth's first Bloom with ev'ry Grace,
And ev'ry Virtue fraught, as if that Heav'n
And Nature's self took pleasure to instruct you.
Before I beheld thee my restless Soul,
To something high, to something great aspir'd;
But what I ne'er could tell, till seeing thee
And knowing thee inform'd and fix'd my ravish'd Soul,
And shew'd it what with blind and restless search
Before it sought in vain; yes, shew'd it Virtue:
Virtue it self that by great Heav'ns Command,
Assumes that lovely Form t'attract Mankind,
And draw them to it self.
But while you captivate the gazing World
You still remain serene, as if that Heav'n
Design'd you not to love but be ador'd,
Appearing not to know how very warm
How sharply pointed are those fatal Eyes;
Smiling, you kill and know not that you strike,
And we with Pleasure die.

Iren.
Oh fond mistaken Ulamar! oh never more deceiv'd!
Know all the Extremities of Love I feel.

Ulam.
You love?

Iren.
I am all Love, I burn, I die with Love.

Ulam.
'Tis sure for some immortal Being then,
For mortal Man could ne'er conceal his Joy.

Iren.
Alas he knows it not no more than Ulamar.

Ulam.
Let him be told it e'er it be too late;
Is it for Beaufort? I'll resign to Beaufort,
For tho' I love thee more than Life it self,
Tho' 'tis impossible to live without thee;
To shew thee how much I prefer thy Happiness
Before my own, I will to make thee happy,
I will leave thee the loveliest thing in Nature,
For Death the most detestable.

Iren.
Beaufort, assure thy self has all my esteem,
But 'tis another that has all my Heart.

Ulam.
O Man whose Happiness, ev'n Gods might envy!
My Friend and I, for I for him dare answer,
Will no advantage take of what the Council,
And wise Zephario shall anon determine;
But both, oh Gods, to him resign our Claim!

Iren.
[Aside.]
O matchless Love! O proof of Godlike Virtue!
While he speaks this behold with what Convulsions
His struggling Passion shakes his generous Frame,
With whose excess he trembles and he dies.

Ulam.
But oh! if ever thou could'st be too blame,
Thou would'st be so in this, for why? oh why
Hast thou so long conceal'd the fatal Secret?

Iren.
Because I never could 'till now declare it
Without exposing too much shameful Weakness;
Therefore my raging Passion I confin'd,
Which burning inward prey'd upon my Life;
But from the Man I lov'd I hid it most.
In this alas I sympathize with you;
'Tis not my Lover's Form ensnares my Heart,
Tho' his our Angian Virgins all adore;
But when I saw a Youth in his first Bloom
Lead our brave Iroquois with more success
Than our most ancient and experienc'd Warriors,
Perform such Wonders for his Countrey's Safety,
And for the Libertys of Humankind;
To which he sacrifices his Repose,
And ev'n his Life, and Hazards the enjoyment
Of what he loves much dearer ev'n than Life.

Ulam.
Oh Gods! O Transport! whither is she going?

Iren.
When I beheld all this you may be sure,
Th'Almighty Mind has giv'n to me a Soul,
That could not see a Lover with these Virtues;
These Godlike Virtues, and remain insensible,
The Joy that lightens from thy humid Eyes
Informs me that thou understand'st me, Ulamar,
And I design'd thou should'st; but then be sure
Thy godlike Virtue which inflam'd my Heart
Has in my Breast produc'd the noble Pride
Of imitating so much Excellence.
As thou hast sacrifiz'd Repose and Life,
And hazarded th'enjoyment ev'n of me,
Whom thou lov'st more than Life, for thy dear Countrey,
I tho' a Woman nobly will attempt
To emulate thy singular Example.
And tho' I love, nay doat, to Madness doat,
Tho' my Heart feels what never Tongue can utter,
Yet if my Countrey once decrees me Beauforts,
For Beaufort I'll retrieve my Heart,
And never see thee more.

Ulam.
Oh too accomplish'd Beaufort! Oh my Friend!
What have I lost by thy transcendent Virtue?

SCENE V.

Zephario, Irene, Ulamar, Beaufort.
Ulam.
What has Fate determin'd?

Beauf.
See its Interpreter, enquire of him.

Ulam., Beauf.
Hail to Zephario.

Zeph.
Ye matchless Friends, thou Beaufort, and thou Ulamar,
Are ye determin'd fully to consent
To what the Angians here by me pronounce.

Ulam., Beauf.
We are.

Zeph.
In full Assembly then they vote you Thanks
For all the Wonders ye this Day perform'd,
In the Defence of Liberty and Canada;
To thee particularly Thanks they pay,
Brave Youth, who by the Boldness of thy Conduct
(Boldness in desperate Extreams is Wisdome)
Rallying our routed Troops restor'd the Day,
And nobly rais'd us from Despair to Conquest:
For which the Conscience of the noble Deed
And everlasting Fame Reward the Doer;
But since in the first onset of the French
That fierce Attack that carry'd all before it;
Beaufort by wondrous Friendship mov'd preserv'd
Thee, Ulamar, by our own flying Troops
As by a Torrent, overborn, o'erwhelm'd,
Trampled by Friends, surrounded by the Foe,
And stood the Barrier betwixt thee and Fate,
That threatned thee from Friends and Foes alike;
The Council wisely have decreed, that he
Who sav'd th'Heroick Youth to whom we owe
Our Conquest, did with him preserve the State;
And therefore have decreed him for Reward
A Trifle in it felf, but dear to him
My Daughter.

Beauf.
Madam do you consent?

Iren.
I do.

Beauf.
My Ulamar doest thou?

Ulam.
Oh take her while I have Voice to say she's thine!

Beauf.
Oh strange Consent!
Despair is in her Eyes, and Death in his.
Madam, your Tongue consents, your Soul denys.

Iren.
'Tis true, my Soul, brave Beaufort, is another's;
But soon, depend upon it, shall be thine,
And shall as true and faithful prove to thee,
As thou hast been to Liberty and Angie:
True, were my Affections mine, and I my own
Then, Ulamar, I had been only thine,
But I was born for Angie not my self;
And Angie, Beaufort, has decreed me thine.
Thou, Ulamar, possess some happier Maid,
Who may deserve to live, to die with thee,
And bless the happy pair, all Bounteous Heav'n
When I shall be no more.

Beauf.
Apart.
Was ever such a sight, and such a Hearing?
The accents dye upon her Charming Tongue,
And leave her Lovely over-flowing Eyes
To pour out the abundance of her Soul.
I who cou'd dye for Ulamar or her.
Shall I make both unhappy, nay my self too;
For I must doubly share in all their Woes.
No, rouze thy self my Soul, and in one Act
Deliver three: I now am of an Age
In which the Passions reasons Voice obey,
And Reason tells me Heav'n and Nature form'd
Irene for her Lovely Ulamar.
And therefore made them eqnal in their Loves,
Their Beauty and their years: Rouze Rouze my Soul!
'Tis done, my Friend, and thou too charming Maid,
And wise Zephario Hear, I thank the Angians,
I thank them for th' Inestimable gift
With which they have Rewarded my poor zeal,
And I accept it to bestow it Here.

Ul.
Ha! Gods! What meanest thou? Mock me not my Friend!

Beauf.
No, take her, by th' Eternal mind she's thine,
And know that when I first bestow'd my Heart
My very Soul upon thee I bestow'd.
A gift that was less Dear to me.

Iren.
Is't possible! And is not this a Dream?
Can there in Man be such a Godlike mind?

Zeph.
And is your final Resolution this?

Beauf.
'Tis fix'd as Natures Laws that nere can change.

Zeph.
Do you accept Irene for your Wife?

Ul.
Do I accept her?
With greater Rapture than the Wretch that's freed
From Deaths Convulsive pangs embraces Heav'n:
But Oh the Man, who Loves to that degree
And can resign her; He alone deserves her.

Zeph.
The Deed is Noble, for 'tis Wise and Just,
The English always were a Gallant Nation,
And Foes to Force, and Friends to Liberty.
They who without the Mind possess the Body,
Possess by Force, and Ravish, not Enjoy:
He who can Absolutely rule himself,
And can leave others free is truly Noble:
Young man prepare, this Night shall Joyn your Hands.

Ul.
This very Night!
By the Immortal Powr's I'm scarce my self.
Fear, Hope, and Sorrow and Transporting Joy
And wonder at this unexpected Bliss,
Have all by turns so much disturb'd my Soul:
This very Night my Father!

Zeph.
This Night my Son, for an Important cause,
Frontenac Viceroy of this Indian France
Disowns the Treason of the late attempt,
And promises severely to chastize it;
Mean while a murmur runs among our Angians,
Which from their Prisoners they derive they say,
That the late Damn'd surprise was first design'd
By a French Officer who Loves Irene:
For every Band was charg'd to Seize on her:
Thou art a Valiant! And Successful Warriour,
And canst defend the Darling of my Age,
Far better than her Father's feeble arms.

Ul.
Defend her! Yes, what Beaufort has resign'd
To me, I only will to Heav'n resign.
Oh Beaufort, best of Men, and best of Friends!
Shall I refuse to die for such a Friend?
Shall ever I forget the boundless Debt
I owe to thee? Oh what shall I repay!
Thou hast my Soul already.
[Zep. to Ul.]
Come instantly, we'll joyn your hands, and then
See what these Messengers of Peace design,
And then—

Ul.
And Immortality will then be mine.