George Washington Parke Custis

George Washington Parke Custis

Summary

Portrait of George Washington Parke Custis George Washington Parke Custis Representative American Plays… (1922)

Smith a prisoner! and alive! Smith a prisoner!
Selictaz. 'T is even so—Smith is thy prisoner, and alive.
Powhatan. Far beyond my hopes, thanks to the gods, and the brave Matacoran. Aha! girl, what say'st thou now to thy darling English, thy valiant Smith? Aha! wilt thou not now be the bride of Matacoran, the victorious Matacoran?
Pocatonas. Never! tho' he were victor of the world.
Powhatan. Oh! joy, joy; say, Selictaz, how long before the remaining English are brought captives to my feet.
Selictaz. That, King, is a very doubtful matter; for tho' the leader is taken, the battle doth not abate.
Source: Wikisource

Portrait of George Washington Parke Custis George Washington Parke Custis Representative American Plays… (1922)

Pocahontas. No, I must return; should the king learn that I have preserv'd thee, not even his belov'd daughter will escape his wrath. Pocahontas gone, who will befriend the English?
Smith. Lady, thy nobleness wins all our hearts. Grant me, I pray ye, a single feather of thy plume. (She gives a feather.) This will I wear on my helm.—Aye, and when the chivalry of Europe hold tournament in honour of their dames, I, thine own true knight, will appear in the lists, proclaim the Princess Pocahontas the most peerless of her sex, and shiver a lance in honour of the flower of Virginia.
Source: Wikisource

Portrait of George Washington Parke Custis George Washington Parke Custis Representative American Plays… (1922)

Powhatan. An hundred! I never gave more than fifty in all my wars.
Priest. Thy wars were with Monecans—the English are not Monecans.
Powhatan. If I give an hundred youths to the sacrifice, what am I promis'd, priest?
Priest. The entire discomfiture of all thy enemies.
Powhatan. But their guns—?
Priest. Will become harmless as blunted arrows—their lightnings may flash, their thunders roll, but they will be no more than the rumbling and glare from the summer cloud, where no bolt descends to shiver the pine.
Powhatan. Ensure me the head of Captain Smith, and the hundred is granted.
Source: Wikisource

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