GRIMOSCO. King! when last night our village shook with the loud noise, it was the Great Spirit who talk'd to his priest; my mouth shall speak his commands: King, we must destroy the strangers, for they are not our God's children; we must take their scalps, and wash our hands in the white man's blood, for he is an enemy to the Great Spirit. NANTAQUAS. O priest, thou hast dreamed a false dream; Miami, thou tellest the tale that is not. Hearken, my father, to my true words! the white man is beloved by the Great Spirit; his king is like you, my father, good and great; and he comes from a land beyond the wide water, to make us wise and happy! _POWHATAN deliberates. Music._ POWHATAN. Stranger, thou must prepare for death. Six of our brethren fell by thy hand. Thou must die. POCAHONTAS. Father, O father! SMITH. Had not your people first beset me, king, I would have prov'd a friend and brother to them; Arts I'd have taught, that should have made them gods, And gifts would I have given to your people, Richer than red men ever yet beheld. Think not I fear to die. Lead to the block. The soul of the white warrior shall shrink not. Prepare the stake! amidst your fiercest tortures, You'll find its fiery pains as nobly scorned, As when the red man sings aloud his death-song. POCAHONTAS. Oh! shall that brave man die! _Music. The KING motions with his hand, and SMITH is led to the block._ MIAMI. [_To executioners._] Warriors, when the third signal strikes, sink your tomahawks in his head. POCAHONTAS. Oh, do not, warriors, do not! Father, incline your heart to mercy; he will win your battles, he will vanquish your enemies! [_First signal._] Brother, speak! save your brother! Warriors, are you brave? preserve the brave man! [_Second signal._] Miami, priest, sing the song of peace; ah! strike not, hold! mercy! _Music. The third signal is struck, the hatchets are lifted up: when the PRINCESS, shrieking, runs distractedly to the block, and presses SMITH'S head to her bosom._ White man, thou shalt not die; or I will die with thee! _Music. She leads SMITH to the throne, and kneels._ My father, dost thou love thy daughter? listen to her voice; look upon her tears: they ask for mercy to the captive. Is thy child dear to thee, my father? Thy child will die with the white man. _Plaintive music. She bows her head to his feet. POWHATAN, after some deliberation, looking on his daughter with tenderness, presents her with a string of white wampum. POCAHONTAS, with the wildest expression of joy, rushes forward with SMITH, presenting the beads of peace._ Captive! thou art free!-- _Music. General joy is diffused--MIAMI and GRIMOSCO only appear discontented. The prince NANTAQUAS congratulates SMITH. The PRINCESS shows the most extravagant emotions of rapture._ SMITH. O woman! angel sex! where'er thou art, Still art thou heavenly. The rudest clime Robs not thy glowing bosom of its nature. Thrice blessed lady, take a captive's thanks!