WALTER. Marry, girl, thus it was: when we had given the enemies of our ally, Powhatan, defeature, and sent the rough Miami in chains to Werocomoco, our captain dispatches his lieutenant, Rolfe, to supply his place, here, in the town; and leading us to the water's edge, and leaping into the pinnace, away went we on a voyage of discovery. Some thousand miles we sailed, and many strange nations discovered; and for our exploits, if posterity reward us not, there is no faith in history. ALICE. And what were your exploits? WALTER. Rare ones, egad! We took the devil, Okee, prisoner. ALICE. And have you brought him hither? WALTER. No: his vot'ries Redeem'd him with some score or two of deer-skins. Then we've made thirty kings our tributaries: Such sturdy rogues, that each could easily Fillip a buffalo to death with 's finger. ALICE. But have you got their treasures? WALTER. All, my girl. Imperial robes of raccoon, crowns of feather; Besides the riches of their sev'ral kingdoms-- A full boat load of corn. ALICE. Oh, wonderful! WALTER. Aye, is it not? But, best of all, I've kiss'd The little finger of a mighty queen. Sweet soul! among the court'sies of her court, She gave us a Virginian mascarado. ALICE. Dost recollect the fashion of it? WALTER. Oh! Were I to live till Time were in his dotage, 'Twould never from mine eyes. Imagine first, The scene, a gloomy wood; the time, midnight; Her squawship's maids of honour were the masquers; Their masks were wolves' heads curiously set on, And, bating a small difference of hue, Their dress e'en such as madam Eve had on Or ere she eat the apple. ALICE. Pshaw! WALTER. These dresses, All o'er perfum'd with the self-same pomado Which our fine dames at home buy of old Bruin, Glisten'd most gorgeously unto the moon. Thus, each a firebrand brandishing aloft, Rush'd they all forth, with shouts and frantic yells, In dance grotesque and diabolical, Madder than mad Bacchantes. ALICE. O the powers! WALTER. When they had finished the divertisement A beauteous Wolf-head came to me-- ALICE. To you? WALTER. And lit me with her pine-knot torch to bedward, Where, as the custom of the court it was, The beauteous Wolf-head blew the flambeau out, And then-- ALICE. Well! WALTER. Then, the light being out, you know, To all that follow'd I was in the dark. Now you look grave. In faith I went to sleep. Could a grim wolf rival my gentle lamb? No, truly, girl: though in this wilderness The trees hang full of divers colour'd fruit, From orange-tawny to sloe-black, egad, They'll hang until they rot or ere I pluck them, While I've my melting, rosy nonpareil. [_Kiss._ ALICE. Oh! you're a Judas! WALTER. Then am I a Jew! _Enter SMITH, PERCY, NANTAQUAS, LARRY, &c._