And on this savage shore, Where his faulchion stream'd with gore, His noble heart The savage dart Had quiver'd through; But swifter flew To his heart the pretty princess Pocahontas. [_Exit WALTER._ _Enter KATE._ GERALDINE. Now, brother page-- KATE. Dear mistress, I have found My faithful Larry. GERALDINE. Happy girl! and I Hope soon to meet my heart's dear lord, my Percy. Hist! the lord governor-- KATE. He little thinks Who is the page he loves so-- GERALDINE. Silence. KATE. Mum. _Enter DELAWAR, WALTER, LARRY, &c._ DELAWAR. Each noble act of his that you recite Challenge all my wonder and applause. Your captain is a brave one; and I long To press the hero's hand. But look, my friends, What female's this, who, like the swift Camilla, On airy step flies hitherward? WALTER. My lord, This is the lovely princess you have heard of; Our infant colony's best patroness; Nay, sir, its foster-mother. DELAWAR. Mark how wild-- _Music. The PRINCESS enters, with wild anxiety in her looks; searches eagerly around for SMITH and ROLFE._ DELAWAR. Whom do you look for, lady? PRINCESS. They are gone! Gone to be slaughter'd! WALTER. If you seek our captain, He has departed for your father's banquet. PRINCESS. Then they have met, and they will both be lost, My lover and my friend. O! faithless path, That led me from my lover! Strangers, fly! If you're the white man's friends-- DELAWAR. Lady, we are. PRINCESS. Then fly to save them from destruction! DELAWAR. How? PRINCESS. Inquire not; speak not; treachery and death Await them at the banquet. DELAWAR. Haste, my friends, Give order for immediate departure. PRINCESS. E'en now, perhaps, they bleed! O lover! brother! Fly, strangers, fly! _Music. Drum beats; a bustle; scene closes._ SCENE IV. _At Werocomoco; banquet. SMITH, ROLFE, PERCY, NANTAQUAS, POWHATAN, &c., seated. GRIMOSCO, MIAMI and a number of INDIANS attending._ POWHATAN. White warriors, this is the feast of peace, and yet you wear your arms. Will not my friends lay by their warlike weapons? They fright our fearful people. SMITH. Our swords are part of our apparel, king; Nor need your people fear them. They shall rest Peaceful within their scabbards, if Powhatan Call them not forth, with voice of enmity. POWHATAN. Oh, that can never be! feast then in peace, Children and friends-- _Leaves his place and comes forward to GRIMOSCO._ O priest! my soul is afraid it will be stained with dishonour.