Moon. Take my advice, and put on a pair of wings and then have a care. I remember hearing a Friar reading about some ancient philosopher who made wings, and thought he could fly; but the sun melted the wax with which they were stuck together, and he fell into the sea, and was drowned. (Laughter). The open sea and an oak plank for Thomas Moon. (Laughter).
Several Voices. Aye! Aye! Moon! That’s your element. You’re at home there. (Laughter).
Chiruca (Not heading the observations). I must first settle with that tiger, who is preparing to seize the first who crosses, and that will show you the power of a poisoned arrow.
The Indian bends his bow and shoots. The tiger tumbles over the cliff into the roaring torrent below. They all look surprised at one another, conferring on the marvellous effect. The Indian ascends the rock a few paces, enters into the car or chair and as by magic appears to fly across the ravine, upon the rope. He immediately returns, and whilst he is dispatching them over, one by one, the scene changes.
Scene XI.—THE PLATEAU AND THE GREAT COTTON TREE.
Before them the high bold peak or summit of Panama, on either side the two oceans. On the South, the pacific with the city of Panama, and the Isle of Pearls in its bay. On the other side the Atlantic, with Nombre de Dios on the Coast, and the Caribean sea, with its islands. The Isthmus, with a Reco or transport of treasure winding through defiles.
Chiruca. We stand upon the Plateau, noble Drake. The ocean you desire is spread before you—an endless waste of waters, dark, fathomless, unknown! How say you—is it enough? If not, there’s the bold peak (he points to the summit). We can ascend like Vasco Nunez. But the labour would be vain—the danger something, and time inexorable flies. The sun has half performed his course. Here is the Atlantic. (He turns to the North, pointing). You see the islands where the Carib dwelt—now desolate—the race extinct! or slaves! (with bitterness and passion). Spain plants her foot upon a land, and sows the soil with death. (He turns with aversion to the South). On the South, behold the ocean, which they say is boundless, save for the islands far away, from which Tradition tells our fathers came—and where our spirits go. Spain’s proud ships pollute its waters now, and carry gold in safety. There! (he points). Just below, is Panama, where they collect the treasure, and out in its beauteous bay, the Isle of Pearls, famous for these gems, which even our Indian women prize so highly.
Drake (much interested). I noted their magnificence and profusion on the family of the Cacique.
Chiruca (eagerly seizing Drake and directing his attention). See! See! in the far distance that long line of beasts, and men straggling along the edge of a deep gorge, some labour up the mountain pass and see! (with energy) how others slide down rocks. Poor beasts like men, enslaved. (Turning to Drake who is much interested). That is a reco—a transport of treasure, (with triumph). That treasure shall be yours! (Drake looks at him with surprise). I have sent a spy to dog their movements. He will meet us at the place of ambuscade to night! Let me see. (He counts the number of the beasts forming the transport to himself). Mules! Llamas! It is a great one! Tons of treasure!
Drake. Noble Chiruca, you have fulfilled your promise. The Globe’s wide surface presents not such another sight. (Aside.) The Atlantic seaboard I have already taxed for vengeance. My interest now lies here! (He extends his hand towards the Pacific). An inward impulse knits me to this ocean. The very sun upon its surface pours peculiar lustre. It waves seem gold—tinged with the loads they carry. They shall bear a nobler freight! Wondrous prospect. Two oceans that embrace the earth! But do I look with mortal eye on real things—or rapt in Prophet frenzy, gaze on vision? I feel my soul expand, o’er time and space, with energy divine and newborn hope. Two hostile fleets contend upon the flood, and dye its waters red for mastery. ’Tis Spain and England! The World! the prize between them! (He looks up). Give me, O Heaven, to sail that sea; proclaiming to every longitude thy law. That man is free. Down-trodden slave of Ignorance, look up, thy God is nigh! Look up and break thy fetters! Thy charter from on high, is Liberty.