Powhatan. The English!
Grimosco. The nobler beast of the forest issues boldly from his den, and the spear of the powerful pierces his heart. The deadly adder lurks in his covert till the unwary footstep approach him.
Powhatan. I see no adder near me.
Grimosco. No, for thine eyes rest only on the flowers under which he glides.
Powhatan. Away, thy sight is dimmed by the shadows of age.
Grimosco. King, for forty winters hast thou heard the voice of counsel from my lips, and never did its sound deceive thee; never did my tongue raise the war cry, and the foe appeared not. Be warned then to beware the white man. He has fixed his serpent eye upon you, and, like the charmed bird, you flutter each moment nearer to the jaw of death.
Powhatan. How, Grimosco?
Grimosco. Do you want proof of the white man's hatred to the red? Follow him along the bay; count the kings he has conquered, and the nations that his sword has made extinct.
Powhatan. Like a warrior he subdued them, for the chain of friendship bound them not to each other. The white man is brave as Aresqui; and can the brave be treacherous?
Grimosco. Like the red feathers of the flamingo is craft, the brightest plume that graces the warrior's brow. Are not your people brave? Yet does the friendly tree shield them while the hatchet is thrown. Who doubts the courage of Powhatan? Yet has the eye of darkness seen Powhatan steal to the surprise of the foe.