University of Virginia Library

SCENE I.

The Governor's Palace at Panama.
Pedrarias and his Court at a grand feast, Alphonso by his father's side. Shouts are heard as from the people rejoicing around the palace. The guests rise with goblets in their hands to welcome Alphonso.
PEDRARIAS.
Thanks, thanks, my friends and fellows in renown!
That ye who shared my dangers and my toils,
Should, with such heartfelt brotherhood, partake
My private joy, to me is doubly grateful:
Our infant state on these fair-conquer'd shores
Thrives but by brotherhood thus firmly knit.
What yet remains were as a healthful pastime
To banish sluggish ease. 'Tis but to sweep,
From these our fruitful plains, the native hordes
That still infest them.—What says my Alphonso?

ALPHONSO
(shudders, and starts from his reverie).
My honour'd father! in this o'ercharged breast
A thousand feelings strive for mastery.
I would control my wayward thoughts, and worthily
Express my thanks to these our noble friends.

[He rises, and bows with a goblet in his hand.
LOPEZ.
The holiday thy glad return has made
In Panama, were idle revelry,
Unworthy of its cause, if mark'd alone
By clamorous shouts. A nobler game, Alphonso,
Should seal our joys with blood!

PEDRARIAS.
It is well said!
[The shouts without are repeated.
Don Gusman, bear our oft repeated thanks
Once more to the glad throng without, I pray;
Go thou and give them fair dismissal.—Now
[Rising.
In this last cup, my friends, I pledge you all.
[All rise and drink.
'Twere tedious to repeat my grateful thoughts.
The evening closes fast; and, ere I rest,
The cares of state demand a thoughtful hour.
[They begin to move off with ceremony, Pedrarias comes forward.
Conduct Don Lopez to the gate, my son.
[Exeunt Alphonso and Lopez.
No longer shall your boiling spirits chafe
Within these walls, my friends. The means are mine
To trace the savage hordes to their last refuge.
Visions of conquest on your slumbers wait!
My valiant Gomez, Carlos, and Alvarez;
And you—and you—my brave companions all!
Pass without compliment.—Sweet rest attend you!

[Exeunt with proper ceremony. Pedrarias remains in deep thought. Gusman returns.
GUSMAN.
Methinks, my lord, while with such general joy
All Panama has welcomed Don Alphonso,
Some secret care has prey'd upon your mind,
Checking the tide of a fond father's gladness.

PEDRARIAS.
True, Gusman, true; greatness has heavy cares.
Those savages, who rather than submit
To slavery, would sullen die despairing—
Say, have they suffer'd torture?

GUSMAN.
No, my lord.
Pardon that still the rebel natives live.
Tortures avail'd us nothing.—We desisted.

PEDRARIAS.
Perdition! shall they live who brave my power?
Why am I not obey'd?

GUSMAN.
If vanquish'd foes
We daily slaughter thus, where shall we find
The slaves required to dig the precious ore?

PEDRARIAS.
Ye have been slack. New tortures shall compel
These slothful slaves to ply their sun-bask'd limbs
For conquerors.—Let them be rack'd—Away!

GUSMAN.
My lord, 'tis useless now. Zamori's voice,
Their fellow slave, Zamori's, has prevail'd.

PEDRARIAS.
Zamori, say'st thou?

GUSMAN.
Yes, with earnest prayer,
He sued to parley with his countrymen,
Unheard by me.

PEDRARIAS.
Thou didst not sure consent?

GUSMAN.
I did, my lord. But was not distant far,
And something caught of what Zamori urged.
He spoke of patience—of some distant hope—
A hope full sweet—some good inestimable,
However dearly purchased. There I lost
His farther speech among the mingling sounds.
Their stubborn spirits on the instant yielded:
They wept—they gnash'd their teeth, when, sudden, he
First snatch'd a mattock, and with lusty stroke
Open'd the soil. All follow'd eagerly,
With bleeding wounds inflicted by the lash,
Or limbs disjointed by the rack.—'Twas piteous!

PEDRARIAS.
Gusman, thou wert of my all-conquering band.
I little thought to see thee heave the sigh
For these dull clods of earth.—Thou mov'st my scorn.
[He paces the stage, ruminating.
And would Zamori move his brutish fellows
To serve their master? What might be his motive?
Proud, uncomplaining, melancholy, stern,
I oft have mark'd this Indian's lofty mien;
And (for his carriage still rebuked my spirit)
I added e'en indignity to torture.
As rocks that from the daily whelming tide
Rear the unalter'd brow, he bore himself!
It was his firmness taught them to resist,
And is it he who schools them now to yield?

GUSMAN.
My lord, released of late from servile chains,
Nearer your person he has been advanced.
This gentler treatment in a noble nature—

PEDRARIAS.
'Twas but the nearer to observe his bearing.
There is a savage greatness in Zamori
That should awake suspicion. Much he may,
Swaying the minds of all his fellows thus.

GUSMAN.
Indeed, my lord, the slave has well deserved.
He will be faithful.

PEDRARIAS.
Faithful he shall be!
My eye is on him.—But far other cares
Engross my mind.—Hast thou observed Alphonso?
Can a few weeks have changed his very nature?
Musing he sits, and frowns as fancy works,
Or if I question him, he speaks as though
Each word involved some mighty consequence.

GUSMAN.
Perchance the thought of those who shared his sports,
And perish'd 'mong the desert wilds, may still
Hang heavy on his heart, and cloud his brow.

PEDRARIAS.
I know not what to think, nor what to fear.
—But thou retire, my friend, and charge Zamori
To seek my son, Alphonso, ere he rest,
And say I wait his coming in my chamber.
His father there would give the rein to nature,
And breathe a blessing on his son restored.

[Exeunt severally.