_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.
SCENE II. The Widow _Ranter's_ Hall.
Enter _Surelove_ fan'd by two Negroes, followed by _Hazard_.
_Sure._ This Madam _Ranter_ is so prodigious a Treater --oh! I hate a Room that smells of a great Dinner, and what's worse, a desert of Punch and Tobacco--what! are you taking leave so soon, Cousin?
_Haz._ Yes, Madam, but 'tis not fit I should let you know with what regret I go,--but Business will be obey'd.
_Sure._ Some Letters to dispatch to _English_ Ladies you have left behind--come, Cousin, confess.
_Haz._ I own I much admire the _English_ Beauties but never yet have put their Fetters on.
_Sure._ Never in love! oh, then you have pleasure to come.
_Haz._ Rather a Pain when there's no Hope attends it.
_Sure._ Oh, such Diseases quickly cure themselves.
_Haz._ I do not wish to find it so; for even in Pain I find a Pleasure too.
_Sure._ You are infected then, and come abroad for Cure.