Chapter V: Act IV: Scene I.—deck of the Pacha

_Nombre de Dios_. _Moonlight_. _The bright Caribean sea and luminous sky_. _The islands with their picturesque forms and foliage_. _The ample bay with its rivers_. _The land covered with forest_. _The mountains in the far distance_, _with snow-clad summits_, _above the range of the highest clouds_.

DRAKE. Land of wonder! Beauty! Richness! Abundance! which poets in their wildest flights of fancy never dreamed of.—Beyond!—The vast continent, stretching one knows not whither. Whose bowels teem with gold. The appanage of a single crown. Such is the greatness and the wealth of Philip—enough to conquer or to bribe the world wasted in his feeble hand. Our cockle-shells have sailed these summer seas without control. Spain’s giant frame asleep—incapable—or paralysed. How easy to sweep her from the sea. That looms in the future. It flits before me like distant land—now seen in sunshine—now lost in haze—a shapeless form. Still the vision never leaves me. Even in my sleep my country grapples her; always triumphant—fiercer—stronger every time. The death struggle wakes me—I see it clearly—Spain falls—and England takes her place. Here comes our canoe of observation, her low black outline scarce distinguishable from a ripple of the ocean (_the boat comes alongside_, JOHN DRAKE _and_ OXENHAM, _with an Indian_, _climb upon the deck_) Well Brother, I trust a good report?

JOHN DRAKE. The course is clear. Seize the batteries and take what you like.—There’s not an armed ship in the harbour.

DRAKE. I’ll give them a lesson for the one they taught me at San Juan de Ulloa. Therefore cut down, burn, destroy—save only gold, silver, jewels, and things worth carrying away. I’ll teach them to leave off their bloody work.

OXENHAM. Well, General, we have done pretty fair, to put our hands in practice. For months we have sailed through these parts—sacking towns, burning houses, sinking ships, crews and all, plundering and taking prizes, without being over scrupulous as to kind or quantity. Has there been a church, within our reach, where we have left a chalice, or a crucifix, worth carrying away?

DRAKE. The real work is now beginning. This Nombre de Dios is the shipping port for Spain—the store house of her treasure. Gold abounds here. Men, women, children—the proud Castillian—the feeble Creole—the wild Indian, are covered with it. Who is this you have brought with you?

OXENHAM. Oh! We have found a treasure worth the whole plunder of the town. This is one of the noble Symerons, who defend their country against the invader. He will tell you all, and introduce you to his countrymen, at war with the Spaniards.

DRAKE. Oh, excellent! (_he turns to the Indian_) I am glad to be acquainted with one of the oppressed children of the land. We English hate Spaniards like you, and have come here to make war upon them. What is your name?

INDIAN. Chiruca.—I am son of the Great Cacique who after the massacre of our people by the cruel Alonzo de Ojeda and the robber Enciso, rallied our nations against the invaders. We have heard of the brave Inglesos, and the terrible Drake. I came to seek you with an offer of friendship. Five great Caciques, with all their warriors, will join you against the foe. I will be your guide to them. You must go up the rivers of Panama—fight them in the woods, and seize the Racoes with the treasure. Our nation will assist you. I shall send Symerons by land to bring them to meet us.

DRAKE. The thing I most desire is to cross the Isthmus and catch a glimpse of the great ocean on the other side.

CHIRUCA. Nothing can be easier. We shall conduct you through fruit-laden forests, which yet a Spanish foot hath never cursed.

DRAKE. Good! When we shall have surprised and plundered Nombre de Dios. (_The men are bustling into the boats and making ready for the attack_.—MOON _salutes_ DRAKE _and eagerly observes_).

MOON. That galleon at anchor, General!—Would’nt it be as well to cut away her rigging and send adrift her boats, as we go in? She might make sail whilst we are engaged.

DRAKE. Well said, my boy. You’ll see to that. Clip her wings and make her wait our pleasure. We can ease her of her precious burden at our leisure. Now, my men, for action! Nombre de Dios is a victim bound for slaughter, and delivered into our hands.

MOON (_saluting_). The Pinnaces and boats, General, are manned and ready.

_Officers are bustling about and giving orders_.

DRAKE. Well done, Moon! You wait for orders. (_To_ OXENHAM.) A word before we start, Oxenham. You land on the left—lead your corps round to the back.

OXENHAM. And that high ground on the east, General. There might be cannon there?

DRAKE. Take it in your way. Then push for the eastern gate; it leads to the royal treasure house. Wait there the signal. Here is a plan of the place (_he points to it with his finger as he gives it to him_, _explaining it_). You see the course is clear and simple. When you hear the first volley, rush in with tremendous shouting, and meet me in the market-place.

OXENHAM. I shall be there, if alive.

_Exit_ OXENHAM _with his corps in a pinnace_.

DRAKE. Now then pull for the Quay. Away, my men, away! (_Exeunt_).

_Scene changes_.

SCENE II.—THE MARKET PLACE.

_With the main street leading down to the harbour_, _crowded with English_, _shouting and firing_. _In the distance the bay_, _with the ships_. DRAKE _enters at one side with his men_, _charging_. _As they enter a volley is fired at them by the enemy who immediately fly in confusion_.

DRAKE. Where are the longbows now? Give them your bolts, scourge them with English hail! Brave Oxenham! Here he comes true to promise. (_Enter_ OXENHAM _with his men from the other side_, _shouting_).

OXENHAM. Hurrah my boys! (_the bowmen shoot cheering_). Hah! They can’t stand that sort of storm blast, in these latitudes, general. We have carried all before us.

DRAKE. The town is ours. Now to secure the treasure. (_Confusion_—_The English mustering and charging about with their axes and longbows_).

_Enter_ MOON _with two Spaniards_, _prisoners_. _The men cheer him_.

MOON. Here are two prisoners, general. I have granted them their lives on condition that they lead us to the treasure store.

DRAKE (_in much delight and surprise_). Lucky Moon! To the treasure store! (_Confusion and rushing about_).

ENGLISH (_shouting_). To the treasure store! To the treasure store!

1st SPANIARD. Here is the king’s treasure house at hand! (_He turns to another side of the Market-place_, _and points to a wide door open_, _with lights burning_, _exposing piles of gold and silver bars_, _with quantities of precious stones_). How strange! The great doors open, and lights burning! (_aside_), some traitor—an Indian perhaps. There is treasure for you, enough to freight a fleet.

OXENHAM. We don’t want so much at present. Only about fifty tons of gold, and a few cases of the largest pearls and emeralds, (_cheers and laughter_). That’s what I call moderation. But we shall pay you another visit, (_he points to the heaps_). I say Moon, there’s something to look at.

2nd SPANIARD. I have been a merchant, accustomed to the wealth of Spain, in the East, and in the West, and can say the world has never seen such a mass of treasure. That single pile of silver bars is seventy feet long, ten wide, and twelve feet deep; I have measured it.

DRAKE, _who has been badly wounded in the action_, _is seized with weakness and staggers for support_, _leaning on his sword_.

DRAKE. Oxenham, you and Moon will see to all this. I am faint with loss of blood. (_He falls down fainting_, _alarm about him and running to his assistance_.)

OXENHAM. Look to the General, men. Give him some wine; bear a hand. Come on with your flasks! Has no one a flask?

MOON. All’s right, he revives. Here comes a supply?

_Enter_ JOHN DRAKE _helping along_ BILL SAUNDERS _loaded with wine_, _almost drunk and brandishing a great silver tankard_.

SAUNDERS (_singing_).

Good wines the stuff
Just drink enough,
You’ll never, never die.

Holy Neptune! The General’s down. Here’s the drug to revive him. Here General’s the genuine sherries, the true philosophers stone (_laughter_). No that’s not it—the elixir of life. Why it would raise the dead. See how it has revived me. (_He staggers_. _Laughter_. MOON, _interrupting him_, _seizes the bottle_.)

MOON. Now we have neither corkscrew nor drinking cup, what is to be done?

SAUNDERS. Do you think you lubber, Bill Saunders would forget that, and the General so bad? Here’s a bit of pewter will do what’s wanted, if handsomely used. Show me the bottle, (_he seizes the bottle_, _knocks off the neck with the tankard_, _and filing it presents it to the General with much applause_). Drink, General! (DRAKE _takes the cup_, _drinks and laughs_). That’s the medicine—the true agua vitæ, as a murdering Spaniard would call it. Damn them! The thieves know what’s good, it has the strength of Samson in it. Look at me that was killed dead, and am alive again, and all from that blessed liquor.

SAILOR. If you were dead Bill, you were dead drunk.

SAUNDERS. You lie like a doctor or a lawyer. I was only looking after something to revive the General. (_Laughter_. _He is dragged aside by the __sailors_, _who make fun with him_. DRAKE _sitting up with some gathered round him assisting and persuading him to go aboard_).

OXENHAM. Now General, we must have you carried aboard. You require rest and repose and your wounds seen to.

ALL (_crying out confusedly_). Aye! Aye! That’s it. Take care of the General, England can’t spare him. Let’s get him aboard.

OXENHAM. Besides, your presence is unnecessary. The town is in our hands, not a tongue durst wag, not a dog durst bark. They know their masters.

DRAKE. Well! brave friends and comrades, as you will.

DRAKE _is carried away amidst cheers from his devoted crew_.

OXENHAM. Now, about getting our stuff aboard. Lord we could not stow the tenth part of it.

MOON. Our Spanish friend here is right, it would freight a fleet.

JOHN DRAKE. It would sink ours.

OXENHAM. What a thundering shame! to send us out on such an expedition with two or three cockle shells, when with proper outfit and English hearts to back us, we could enrich the nation. But it is always the way with our government. They care more for her enemies than for England! (_He walks aside with his hands up in great indignation_).

JOHN DRAKE. What would please you in the way of Government, Jack?

OXENHAM (_with great energy_). To get up a fleet, man it with true British tars, rovers and volunteers I mean; give the command to Hawkins or Drake, then let Philip see how long his galleons could keep the sea, (_exultingly_). We would soon transfer the Indies with all their wealth to the crown of England.

MOON. Suppose Jack you were in authority, as King of England. What then?

OXENHAM. By all the stars in heaven I would begin with stringing to the yards arm, every Jack in office. But come let us go ahead with this little job. First, where’s our transport? Take a guard Moon, scour the town for horses, mules—everything that can carry. (_Exit_ MOON _and others with him_). Now men, with a will. Muster your gangs. (_Pointing to the great silver pile_). Hurrah! upon these silver bars! (_They rush about with bars of gold and silver_, _preparing to load them_.)

JOHN DRAKE. Avast there! Serve out the wine now. I’m sure we are all ready for it. Where’s Bill Saunders? He’s the man for that. (_Laughter and cheers_).

ALL. Hurrah for the wine! Hurrah for Drake! Hurrah for the Queen!

OXENHAM (_looking out_). Oh! I see MOON coming with a crowd of horses, mules and people. In the meantime, Saunders, you may as well enliven us with a stave—One of your moralities you know, just to let these Spaniards see how little we care for them.

ALL. Hurrah for the song. Now Bill! (SAUNDERS _hesitates_).

OXENHAM. He’s backward. It’s his modesty, (_laughter_), lend a hand there, heave him ahead!

_They gather round_ SAUNDERS _laughing and push him forward to the front_. _Hitching up his breeches sailor fashion_, _he prepares himself to sing_.

SAUNDERS (_looking round at them_). Come on then, boys, and chime in all hands, keeping time with the stroke oar, like jolly tars.

I.

The Greeks in dreams of Paradise
Did golden apples try
To make thy trees Hesperides
Their immortality,
But wine’s the stuff
Just drink enough,
The Nectar of the sky.

II.

Our father Noe knew the way,
He planted us the vine,
And Poets sing, and Prophets say,
His knowledge was divine.
For wine’s the stuff,
Then drink enough,
You’ll Never! Never die!

III.

When fevers, plagues, or blows are near.
Or surging seas run high,
We fearless Britons drink and cheer. (_They cheer_).
And face our destiny!
Oh Wine’s the stuff,
Just drink enough,
And never fear to die.

IV.

Be sure you don’t the Doctor call
Pill draught, and Bolus fly,
For if you take them, one or all!
Just bid your friends good bye!
Good wine’s the stuff,
Then drink enough,
And never say you’ll die! (_Laughter and cheers_).

ALL. NEVER SAY DIE! Hurrah! Hurrah!

(_Scene changes_).

SCENE III.—CREEK IN THE RIVER CHAGRES.

_The deep forest around_. _Distant mountains_. _Deck of the_ “_Pacha_.” DRAKE _and_ CHIRUCA.

DRAKE. This seems a hiding-place retired enough. Yet! should the Spaniards come here, and so many of us absent?

CHIRUCA. There is no danger. They know nothing of this region. Five nations of warriors are in arms against them. Our homes will be your homes; our food will be your food; the beautiful daughters of the land will be your wives; we will love you like brothers; we will join with your great nation; your great Queen shall be our Queen. This affair of Nombre de Dios will fly through our people; now we know you can give us vengeance and drive these robbers away. England shall have all the gold.

DRAKE. The more I see of this river the better I like it—the very haven for a pirate ship.

CHIRUCA. Here, then, I leave you, noble Drake. To morrow (_pointing to the mountains_) before those mountain tops are red with the rising sun, we shall meet at the junction of the streams. Adieu! (_he prepares to leap_)

DRAKE. Stop! Won’t you have a boat?

CHIRUCA (_waving his hand declining_). Adieu! Adieu! (_he leaps overboard and swims ashore_)

DRAKE. Marvellous speed. These Indians are amphibious. They can swim like beavers.

_Scene changes_.

SCENE IV.—TWO STREAMS MEETING AT A POINT OF LAND,

_On which grows a tall solitary Palm_, _its feathered branches waving in the morning air_. _The densely wooded banks reflected in the still water_. _The horizon in the background_, _a Sierra of lofty mountains_. _The sun rising and illumening their tops and sending his rays along one of the streams_. _A canoe coming down the shining river_.

_Enter_ DRAKE, OXENHAM, MOON _the carpenter_, _and others in a boat from
the side_.

DRAKE (_after a pause looking round_). I don’t see our dark-visaged friends; I hope there is no mistake. One cannot exactly apprehend treason. These Symerons hate as well as fear the Spaniards, and would neither aid nor trust them.

OXENHAM. True, General, our foes are theirs. From them they have nothing to expect but the slavery of their race or death. Gold they value not—thus cruelty and treachery defeat themselves. Spain can never be trusted. To us they look as friends to aid them in their vengeance.

DRAKE. What a tide of Spanish blood is due to them—a nation crushed, tortured, massacred, enslaved, driven from such a paradise as this, or seeing it blasted before their eyes. Such is conquest; such a foreign yoke, (_aside_) England, look well to it! There are men, and Englishmen, who would thus degrade their native land, the glorious and the free!

OXENHAM. It seems not like the wickedness of man—not to speak of Policy—Spain clothes herself with hate and terror. Her soldiers have the air of fiends from hell; their mission to destroy.

MOON. There is no danger, General. This is the spot—the junction of the two streams, and the solitary cocoanut tree on the point.

OXENHAM. Right, Moon, all right. There it is rearing aloft its head like a mighty standard—its giant plumes just waving in the morning air—no mistake!

DRAKE. What a picture! How strangely beautiful! An there were here some limner of Nature’s Physiognomy, with cunning to throw her wondrous effigy on his magic canvas; that dark still water, noiseless and deep, stealing snakelike through the monstrous foliage, mirrored in its glassy surface; that proud Sierra; the distant horizon, and the rising sun, tinging with purple glory its snowy tops, sending the sheen of silver along the opening river.

OXENHAM (_abruptly_). Here comes the canoe, like a regiment of men in single file. What a length of side! and made out of a single trunks.

MOON. It would puzzle a fellow like me, with only a little arithmetic, to count them. Lord! it shoots like an arrow. As we speak it is at the bank. Hurrah! there is our friend Chiruca in the bow. He is now you see an Indian Chief, and waves his eagle plume to us.

_The canoe with the Indians arrives_, _loaded with fruits and other provisions_, _and drinks of the country_.

DRAKE. Brave Chiruca, welcome! (_they embrace_)

CHIRUCA. Welcome to the land of our fathers, noble Drake. (_He points to his companions_.) These are the sons of Caciques, who have come to welcome you; the Chiefs who will gather round you; the valiant of their tribes (_they prostrate themselves before_ DRAKE, _who by the instruction of_ CHIRUCA _raises and embraces them_).

OXENHAM (_to_ DRAKE _aside_). This is the best move yet, General. We are now at the very throat of Spain. I have long had this in my eye, and kept it to myself. Make a nation of these Symerons, but the gold and pearls first.

DRAKE. I can see farther, John. I mean to ascend the heights and behold the other ocean—what Spain is doing. The source of all her wealth lies there.

_Indians_, _loaded with provisions_, _proceed up the precipitous rock at the side_; _others armed with lances and bows mingle with the English_, _and prepare to accompany them_. CHIRUCA _approaches_ DRAKE.

CHIRUCA. Friend Drake! We wait for you; the sun is above the mountains, and warns us that time passes (DRAKE _takes him by the arm and points forward_).

DRAKE. On then, Chiruca. Looking at these precipitous rocks—those tangled forests—those foaming cataracts—the stern outline of that high Sierra—the task would seem hopeless.

CHIRUCA. Gold and silver, in loads, traverse these heights on mules and llamas. We will show you the Recoes and their Spanish escort. With your men of iron, we shall make short work of the guard, and carry off the treasure. We will ambuscade them for you, and mow them down with poisoned arrows. You shall see them fly, as from a pestilence, or the scourge of the evil one.

DRAKE. Lead on.

CHIRUCA. This is the way. Follow me.

_The Indians bound up the face of the rock and disappear under the
hanging shrubs_.

MOON. That’s what I call a flying leap. Body o’ me! They’re birds or antilopes—not men.

DRAKE (_he calls up to_ CHIRUCA). Call you this a path? To get up there would require the wings of one of those Condors that have scented death from the Sierra, and are sailing over our heads, ready to pick our bones, should we break our necks.

MOON (_with a heavy axe_, _and several other things_, _produces a rope_, _which he has coiled round him_, _and throws one end up the rock_). I’ll show them a trick, General, that will beat all their jumping. (_He prepares to throw the rope_) Look out there aloft! (_he throws_) Now make fast Chiruca (_he runs up the rope amid much laughter_).

DRAKE. Well done, Moon! Always prepared; he’s loaded like one of Llamas.

MOON _slides down again and holds the rope for_ DRAKE.

MOON. There, General, I have tried it for you.

DRAKE. That was a bright and seamanlike thought, Moon.

DRAKE, OXENHAM, _and the others ascend_.

MOON. I wish I had brought a kedge anchor and a block or two with me, I think we shall need a whole running gear and tackle before we shall have warped through all these shoals and narrows (_he secures about him his axe and various implements_, _and ascends the rope_, _amid cheers from the top of the rock_. _They are seen crossing over a deep craggy ravine_, _on a bridge of ropes twisted of fibres of trees_, _and so disappear in the distance at the other side_). _Scene changes_.

SCENE VI.—PALACE OF THE INDIAN CACIQUE.

_First_, _the hedge of Prickly Pear_—_the outer defence_. _Secondly_, _the Moat with the drawbridge_. _The ground in front of the Palace_. _The surrounding country of rich and fertile plain_. _Further off the wooded heights_, _and winding Savannahs_, _with Lakes_, _Streams_, _and waterfalls terminating in the Sierra of lofty mountains_.

_Enter_ DRAKE, CHIRUCA, _and the party across the drawbridge_.

CHIRUCA (_he points to the Palace_). Behold the home of my Fathers! the Palace of the Great Comagre! (_they hold up their hands in astonishment_)

DRAKE. Grand! rich! sublime! Nature has sown thick her gifts and broadcast. On earth and sky every element of the picturesque is here; the horizon of that Majestic Sierra, with its streams and waterfalls! the lake sleeping in the gorgeous light of evening; those fertile vales; those cultivated fields and gardens of productive industry; the tall forest teeming with fruits and flowers, loading the breeze with spicy odours, and which the declining sun paints in the tints of Heaven. Who would not fight for such a country?

CHIRUCA (_he points to the defences_). This hedge is our outermost defence.

DRAKE. Neither horse nor man could enter it without death.

CHIRUCA. Behind it you see the moat. The only entrance, the Bamboo swinging bridge, can be defended with a thousand bows, whose poisoned arrows carry certain death. The Palace, enclosed in a stone wall, contains beside the dwelling apartments, accomodation for warriors to defend it, stores for provisions, and cellars for making and keeping our various liquors. But here comes the Great Cacique to welcome and honour you.

_Advance of Indian Warriors whose banners are the blood-stained shirts of Spaniards slain in battle_. _Their musicians sound shells and beat drums_. COMAGRE _appears at a little distance_. _His dress is a white cotton robe fantastically embroidered_, _confined at the waist with a belt of gold_, _bearing a dagger_; _which as well as his arms_, _is studded with precious stones_. _His limbs otherwise naked_, _similarly encircled_. _On his head a crown consisting of a band of gold curiously wrought_, _with points on which were enormous pearls_, _and studded with emeralds_, _and other stones of lustre_. _This over a cap of scarlet_. _From this crown he was called by the Spaniards_ “_Bonete d’ Oro_” “_Gold Cap_.” _He prostrates himself on the ground thus to await_ DRAKE.

DRAKE (_astonished_). Haste, Chiruca! your father has fallen!

CHIRUCA. No! this is our ceremony of welcome to an honoured guest. He thus shows his devotion to you. It is for you to advance and raise him up. (DRAKE _advances and raises the_ CACIQUE, _who then warmly embraces him_.)

COMAGRE (_embracing_ DRAKE). Welcome, welcome, noble Englishman! The terror of your great name—your matchless exploits, have struck our foes with panic. We hail you as a deliverer.

DRAKE. Thanks! Great Comagre, I have heard of your valorous deeds also.

COMAGRE (_holding him by the arm_, _leads him towards the Palace_). Come! Come! (_Exeunt into the Palace_.)

_Scene changes_.

SCENE VII.—INTERIOR OF THE PALACE.

_The_ CACIQUE’S _family ranged on a dais_. _The women are clothed with a short white cotton petticoat round their middle_, _elaborately embroidered_, _their limbs __naked save for the bands or circles of gold_. _Their heads decorated with chaplets of flowers and jewels_, _their necks with ropes of enormous pearls_. _Rings of gold and jewels in their noses and ears_.

COMAGRE. I will show you over my Palace, noble Drake, whilst a repast is being prepared for you. (_Exeunt_ DRAKE _and_ COMAGRE.)

_Scene changes_.

SCENE VIII.—THE HALL OF THE DEAD.

_A retired and sacred part of the building devoted to the purpose_, _richly decorated and stored with masses of gold and silver_. _A long line of mummied dead_, _dressed in robes of cotton_, _elaborately embroidered_, _and covered with jewels_, _are suspended to silver bars_, _and vibrating strangely with the gentle air through the open casements_.

_Enter_ COMAGRE _and_ DRAKE, _who_, _startled and amazed at the
unexpected scene_, _recoils with awe_.

COMAGRE. This, noble Drake, is the Hall of my Ancestors—the sacred mansion of the dead. There they are! (_he points to them_). In hours of sorrow or danger I visit them. Their spirits come from the happy land to sympathise with mine.

DRAKE (_much interested_). Are these the real bodies of the dead? How have they been preserved?

COMAGRE. The art is of ancient time, and came from beyond the great sea with the first fathers of the land. They are dried by fire, then wrapped in cloth of cotton with potent spices. Their robes are embroidered by the hands of our women, skilled in a secret language, which perpetuates to their descendants the memory of their deeds.

DRAKE. They are covered with gold and precious stones, which you would do well to conceal from the Spaniards. These diamonds and emeralds, these rubies and pearls are of priceless value. Not all the Royal Crowns and robes of Europe could show the like. They are safe from us; but if they were the property of Spain, I would tear them from convent, church, or altar.

COMAGRE. Noble Englishman, ’tis for this I love you, and have sought your friendship. I have opened my home—my treasures—my heart to you. Give us vengeance! if not protection. Friend hear the wrongs of our country in the presence of these noble dead. It is now a few years, since two Spaniards, sinking under fatigue and hunger, were captured in the forest having fled for their lives from their own cruel countrymen. They should have been put to death at once, being Spaniards, but the kindness of our nature prevailed. They were saved, brought home to the village, protected, nourished, treated as brothers.

DRAKE (_deeply interested_). How kind! How good! Well, friend?

COMAGRE (_with bitter indignation_). Well! They held secret intercourse with our foes.

DRAKE. Treacherous villains!

COMAGRE. With the very men who had doomed them to ignominious death as traitors.

DRAKE. Which they deserved.

COMAGRE. Betrayed the homes, the wealth, the secret paths of those who had sheltered—saved them.

DRAKE (_greatly excited_). Wretches!

COMAGRE. Well! without preparation or notice, in the darkness of the night we were attacked—robbed—massacred. The village was set on fire, men, women, and children were hurled into the flames.

DRAKE. Inhuman monsters!

COMAGRE. The morning sun rose upon calcined bones, and blackened ruins, where before was pleasure, loveliness and peace!

DRAKE (_holding up his hands and walking about in great excitement_). Horrible recital! Barbarous, unprovoked! Brutal cruelty! This is worse than the ravening of wild beasts.

COMAGRE (_with intensified rage_). Wild beasts! The rage of the most savage beast of the forest is gentleness compared with it! The boa will gorge himself and go to sleep. The ferocious puma will pounce upon a single victim and his appetite for blood will be appeased. But the ruthless fury of the Spaniard, when exhausted with slaughter, calls upon the devouring flames to aid him, and commits to senseless havoc, what his licentious appetite cannot enjoy, or his insatiate avarice carry away! (_He pauses breathless_. _Then walks about with hurried step_, _gasping and frantic with rage_.)

DRAKE. The same everywhere—Spain wars upon mankind, like fiends. The object, slavery or desolation.

COMAGRE. Give us revenge—Smite! Kill! Destroy the accursed foe! On with your devastating thunder, those iron mouths that wing their viewless death from far, that dauntless heart, that powerful arm. Come on Brother; come, Revenge. Revenge! Revenge! (_Dragging_ DRAKE _along_, _exeunt_).

_Scene changes_.

SCENE IX.—THE FOREST.

_Ascent of Panama_. _The party scattered about_. _Enter_ DRAKE _and_
CHIRUCA.

DRAKE. We have heard of wonderful treasure among your people, which has escaped the rapacity of the Spaniards.

CHIRUCA. There are whole provinces, where they have never set a foot, and where every mountain stream runs gold. It may be gathered in nets and baskets. The greatest collection of such riches was in the temple of the Goddess Dobeba. Vasco Nunez projected its plunder.

DRAKE. The name of the Deity, and her temple is new to me.

CHIRUCA. It is known and sacred, through all the Indian races. Our traditions tell us of the beginning of things, and a mighty female—the mother of the God that made the sun and moon, and the good things of the earth. She has the controul of the elements, and directs the thunder and lightning. A temple of gold, with the rarest gems and woods, was erected to her. Here pilgrims flocked from far and near, bearing rich offerings. Caciques of the most distant territories paid annually costly tribute to her worship. The temple was filled with treasure, walls and gates were gems and gold. The whole land abounds with these as plentifully as iron with you. The great Caciques furnish their tables, nay cook their viands, in vessels constructed of gold and silver, behold that great cattle trough at the fountain—It is of silver.

DRAKE (_eagerly interrupting_). But the golden temple and its treasures, I hope the villains did not get them?

CHIRUCA. No, friend Drake. The goddess took care of that—Zemaco, Lord of Darien, got wind of their purpose. Repairing thither with the Cacique of Dobeba, he despoiled the temple, and carried off the wealth of the Province. Our enemies ere they reached the spot, found a land of desolation. Led into a region of swamp and morass, with a deserted village, he looked round and was without a guide. Still he picked up some thousand ounces of gold, which the flying inhabitants had left. Despatching it down the river in two canoes he began his retreat. Before him yawned the morass, or spread the wilderness. Comagre had joined Zemaco, and hovered round with thousands of Indian warriors. His march was through showers of poisoned arrows, through starvation and pestilence: for the goddess had blasted the soil! When the remnant of his wretched band arrived at the coast, it was to behold his brigantines wrecked, his canoes with their precious freights swallowed up in the raging sea. The goddess moved the elements and stirred the briny deep to avenge her on her foes.

_Scene changes_.

SCENE X.—THE MOUNTAIN TOPS.

_With precipitous crags and a great cataract with river running down a deep gorge at the side_, _lined with rocks like walls_. _They have arrived at the last peak and stand at the foot of the precipice_, _looking up in despair_. _The Indian observing them a little amused_.

DRAKE (_looks up with surprise and doubt_, _aside_). Does our way lead up that wall, of alternate cliff and forest? (_turning to_ CHIRUCA) Must we climb that bald peak, just kissed by the rising sun, and glowing in his beams like molten silver. Whilst night still holds possession of hill and valley?

MOON. It seems to me, General, a mighty barrier to mark the limits of the world.

CHIRUCA (_amused at their dismay_). Vasco Nunez climbed the very top, on the same errand, and a band of followers loaded with their heavy armour. They struggled over rock and precipice—through river and torrent—through morass and forest—and had to fight their way through hostile nations at every step. One half their Lion-dogs (_Leonicos_) as they call their bloodhounds, and a vast number of the band, perished by fatigue, hunger, and poisoned arrows. With difficulty he regained his ships with a mere handful of his followers. I shall, however, conduct you by easy paths and pleasant valleys, to a plateau, from which you shall behold the great Pacific reposing at your feet: and gangs of treasure-laden mules and llamas, with their escorts, worming their difficult way across the Isthmus.

DRAKE (_with interest_, _surprise_, _and doubt_). Lead on my friend!

CHIRUCA _turns and points_, _smiling maliciously_, _to the right_, _where there is deep chasm or gorge_, _with high cliffed sides like walls_, _through which rushes a foaming torrent from a cascade at the top_, _thundering over a shelf_. _Wild beasts playing about_; _a tiger watching the party on the opposite bank_. _A curious bridge_, _or rather rope_, _at a little distance_, _extended across with a sort of chair on it_—_all of bark_, _twisted and wrought_; _an Indian means of transit_.

CHIRUCA (_pointing to the chasm_). Our way lies over here.

_They all look with amazement and dismay at the yawning gulf_. _They confer and gaze again and again with various emotions_; _some jeering_; _some angry_; _some laughing_. CHIRUCA _smiling observes them_.

DRAKE (_aside_). Easy paths! Pleasant valleys! Humph! You jest with us, Chiruca.

MOON. By all the host of heaven Indian, you might as well tell us to jump from the verge of the earth into Jupiter or Saturn or our nearest neighbour among the stars, or as we should be then lunatics, into the moon. (_Laughter in which they all join_).

CHIRUCA (_archly_). I must go foremost I see, and show you the way.

MOON. Take my advice, and put on a pair of wings and then have a care. I remember hearing a Friar reading about some ancient philosopher who made wings, and thought he could fly; but the sun melted the wax with which they were stuck together, and he fell into the sea, and was drowned. (_Laughter_). The open sea and an oak plank for Thomas Moon. (_Laughter_).

SEVERAL VOICES. Aye! Aye! Moon! That’s your element. You’re at home there. (_Laughter_).

CHIRUCA (_Not heading the observations_). I must first settle with that tiger, who is preparing to seize the first who crosses, and that will show you the power of a poisoned arrow.

_The Indian bends his bow and shoots_. _The tiger tumbles over the cliff into the roaring torrent below_. _They all look surprised at one another_, _conferring on the marvellous effect_. _The Indian ascends the rock a few paces_, _enters into the car or chair and as by magic appears to fly across the ravine_, _upon the rope_. _He immediately returns_, _and whilst he is dispatching them over_, _one by one_, _the scene changes_.

SCENE XI.—THE PLATEAU AND THE GREAT COTTON TREE.

_Before them the high bold peak or summit of Panama_, _on either side the two oceans_. _On the South_, _the pacific with the city of Panama_, _and the Isle of Pearls in its bay_. _On the other side the Atlantic_, _with Nombre de Dios on the Coast_, _and the Caribean sea_, _with its islands_. _The Isthmus_, _with a Reco or transport of treasure winding through defiles_.

CHIRUCA. We stand upon the Plateau, noble Drake. The ocean you desire is spread before you—an endless waste of waters, dark, fathomless, unknown! How say you—is it enough? If not, there’s the bold peak (_he points to the summit_). We can ascend like Vasco Nunez. But the labour would be vain—the danger something, and time inexorable flies. The sun has half performed his course. Here is the Atlantic. (_He turns to the North_, _pointing_). You see the islands where the Carib dwelt—now desolate—the race extinct! or slaves! (_with bitterness and passion_). Spain plants her foot upon a land, and sows the soil with death. (_He turns with aversion to the South_). On the South, behold the ocean, which they say is boundless, save for the islands far away, from which Tradition tells our fathers came—and where our spirits go. Spain’s proud ships pollute its waters now, and carry gold in safety. There! (_he points_). Just below, is Panama, where they collect the treasure, and out in its beauteous bay, the Isle of Pearls, famous for these gems, which even our Indian women prize so highly.

DRAKE (_much interested_). I noted their magnificence and profusion on the family of the Cacique.

CHIRUCA (_eagerly seizing_ DRAKE _and directing his attention_). See! See! in the far distance that long line of beasts, and men straggling along the edge of a deep gorge, some labour up the mountain pass and see! (_with energy_) how others slide down rocks. Poor beasts like men, enslaved. (_Turning to_ DRAKE _who is much interested_). That is a reco—a transport of treasure, (_with triumph_). That treasure shall be yours! (DRAKE _looks at him with surprise_). I have sent a spy to dog their movements. He will meet us at the place of ambuscade to night! Let me see. (_He counts the number of the beasts forming the transport to himself_). Mules! Llamas! It is a great one! Tons of treasure!

DRAKE. Noble Chiruca, you have fulfilled your promise. The Globe’s wide surface presents not such another sight. (_Aside._) The Atlantic seaboard I have already taxed for vengeance. My interest now lies here! (_He extends his hand towards the Pacific_). An inward impulse knits me to this ocean. The very sun upon its surface pours peculiar lustre. It waves seem gold—tinged with the loads they carry. They shall bear a nobler freight! Wondrous prospect. Two oceans that embrace the earth! But do I look with mortal eye on real things—or rapt in Prophet frenzy, gaze on vision? I feel my soul expand, o’er time and space, with energy divine and newborn hope. Two hostile fleets contend upon the flood, and dye its waters red for mastery. ’Tis Spain and England! The World! the prize between them! (_He looks up_). Give me, O Heaven, to sail that sea; proclaiming to every longitude thy law. That man is free. Down-trodden slave of Ignorance, look up, thy God is nigh! Look up and break thy fetters! Thy charter from on high, is Liberty.

CHIRUCA (_he comes to_ DRAKE _who absorbed his own thoughts had wandered aside_). Friend Drake (DRAKE _is startled out of his reverie_).

DRAKE. Pardon me, noble Chiruca, I was lost in deep reflection.

CHIRUCA. Well, how like you our observatory? Our enemies know it not. Yet by land and sea their game is played before us. Nor is it new—our fathers chose it. Mark you this tree? It is of ancient growth and is our watch tower (_he leads_ DRAKE _towards it_).

DRAKE. It looks as if ’twere planted at creation. When things were giants all! (_eight men are standing round it fathoming_). Measure the circumference, Moon.

MOON (_pointing to the men for answer_). Eight fathom, good, General.

CHIRUCA. There is an arbour in its branches which holds a dozen people. Let us ascend. (_He leads_ DRAKE _to the tree who examines it_). You see these steps cut in the trunk of yore? Follow me. (_The Indian ascends followed by_ DRAKE _and others_. _As they are seated in the arbour_, _they break into loud cheers above_, _taken up by those below_. _The Indians joining in it dancing and clashing their arms_.)

MOON. Three cheers for the Queen! (_cheers_)

OXENHAM. Confusion to Philip! (_cheers_)

_Scene changes_.

SCENE XII.—THE FOREST.

_Cocoa nut trees with monkeys_.

_Enter_ CHIRUCA _and_ DRAKE _with the others_.

CHIRUCA. Above a hundred mules and as many llamas loaded! tons of gold, silver, and, precious stones. You must form your own idea of their value. We wonder at your desire for such useless stuff.

DRAKE. And you consider that we can intercept and take them?

CHIRUCA. Of course! We are eighteen English, and thirty Symerons, and you know that one Englishman is equal to ten of them. We shall trap them like wolves or buffaloes; in fact, the Spaniards will show us their heels at the first volley from our bows; and the attendants who hate their tyrants will lead the beasts wherever we order. The ambuscade is just below us—close at hand. We can rest, and refresh ourselves here till the hour.

DRAKE. This is a rich and beautiful valley, but toiling through it under a burning sun, is dry work, and then to be tantalized with these delicious fruits!

_He and_ CHIRUCA _throw themselves on a bank to one side_. _The rest gather themselves into the centre_, _and are engaged talking and laughing_, _when Bang_! _Bang_! _Bang_! _Down comes a shower of cocoa nuts from a mob of monkeys_, _who thus commence petting their invaders and scamper through the branches screaming and hurling their missiles_. MOON _is knocked down_, _and scrambles up in alarm_, DRAKE _and_ CHIRUCA _laughing at the sport_.

MOON (_running off_). Holloa there, messmates! Look out for squalls, what the devil’s up? A legion of Devils, I think. (_He peeps from behind a free_, _laughing with all the others_, _who have betaken themselves to shelter_.) I call that Panama hail, boys, (_laughter and cheers from all_. _The monkeys also chattering in triumph_.) Hark to the devils, how they chatter and triumph. Hand me your longbow, Oxenham, and I’ll spoil the sport of that long-tailed rascal, (_looking up_), I’ll change your grinning.

DRAKE. Never mind, comrade! Let the poor things have their triumph. We shall enjoy the fruits of victory. Bear a hand with your axe, and open some of these nuts. Give us a drink of the juice. (_Moon falls to opening the nuts with a gimlet and his axe_, _whilst Indians hold Calabashes for the liquor_. _The rest having gathered melons_, _plantains_, _bananas and other juicy fruits into a heap_, _are eating and enjoying themselves_.)

OXENHAM (_eating a banana_). Why Tom, you have brought your whole chest of tools.

MOON (_laughing_). Yes, John, so have you; but you carry yours in your mouth.

CHIRUCA (_to_ DRAKE). We are at no loss for refreshing drinks, friend Drake, in our forest (_he points to a large tree_). Here, friend Tom, just notch this tall trunk, and get ready your calabashes. (DRAKE _comes forward to see_.) This is one of our largest and most valuable trees. The Spaniards call it Palo de Vacca (the Cow Tree). Now friend Tom!

MOON _gashes the great trunk and out rushes a stream of milk_, _which the Indians catch in calabashes and hand round_. _They all begin to drink_, _exclaiming_. _Excellent_! _Wonderful_!

DRAKE. This is marvellous! In the hands of a monk it would pass for a miracle. It scarcely differs from real milk, and will not be believed in England.

MOON. It beats cow-keeping, as far as a dolphin does a flying-fish. I bethink me of bringing home some slips and setting up a dairy in old Plymouth! (_laughter_)

VOICES. Your cows would all die of the cold, Tom.

MOON. Belike, General, if I should cut off a junk and put it to the fire, we might have a joint of roast beef. Heh!

ALL (_with burst of laughter_). Try it, Tom! Try it, Tom! You’ll find it hard to digest (_cheers_). You’ll need a marlin spike next to pick your teeth, Tom (_cheers_). Ha! Ha! The roast beef of Old England growing on a tree! (_cheers and laughter_).

_The Curtain falls_. _The Orchestra striking up_ “_The Roast Beef of Old
England_.”