The Cruelty of the SPANIARDS IN PERU.
The Curtain is drawn up. The First ENTRY.
THE Audience are entertain'd by Instrumentall Musick and a Symphany (being a wild Ayre sutable to the Region) which having prepar'd the Scene, a Lantdchap of the West-Indies is discern'd; distinguisht from other Regions by the parcht and bare Tops of distant Hills, by Sands shining on the shores of Rivers, and the Natives, in feather'd Habits and Bonnets, carrying, in Indian Baskets, Ingots of Gold and Wedges of Silver. Some of the Natives being likewise [Page 2]discern'd in their natural sports of Hunting and Fishing. This prospect is made through a wood, differing from those of European Climats by representing of Coco-Trees, Pines and Palmitos; and on the boughs of other Trees are seen Munkies, Apes and Parrots; and at farther distance Vallies of Sugar-Canes.
The Symphay being ended: The chief Priest of Peru enters with his Attendant after him. The Priest is cloth'd in a Garment of Feathers longer then any of those that are worne by other Natives, with a Bonnet whose ornament of Plumes does likewise give him a distinction from the rest, and carryes in his hand a guilded Verge. He likewise, because the Peruvians were worshipers of the Sun, carryes the Figure of the Sun on his Bonnet and Breast.
The First Speech, Spoken by the Priest of the Sun:
Taking a short view of their condition, before the Royall Family of the Incas taught them to live together in Multitudes, under Lawes, and made them by Arms reduce many other Nations.
THus fresh did Nature in our world appear,
When first her Roses did their leaves unfold:
E're she did use Art's Colours, and e're fear
Had made her pale, or she with cares lookt old.
When various sports did Man's lov'd freedom show,
And still the free were willing to obey;
Youth did to Age, and Sons to Parents bow.
Parents and Age first taught the Lawes of sway.
When yet we no just motive had to fear
Our bolder Incas would by Arms be rais'd;
When, temp'rately, they still contented were,
As great Examples, to be onely prais'd.
When none for being strong did seek reward,
Nor any for the space of Empire strove:
When Valour courted Peace and never car'd
For any recompence, but publique love.
We fetter'd none, nor were by any bound;
None follow'd Gold through Lab'rynths of the Mine:
And that which we on Strands of Rivers found,
Did onely on our Priests in Temples shine.
Then with his Verge, each Priest
Could, like an Exorcist,
The coldest of his Students warm,
And thus provoke them with a Charm.
The Speech being ended, the Priest waves his Verge, and his Attendant, with extraordinary Activity, performs the Somerset: and afterwards, waving his Verge towards the Room where the Musick are plac'd behind the Curtain, this Song is sung.
The First Song.
In pursuance of the manner of their Life, before their Incas brought them to live in Cities, and to build Forts.
1.
VVHilst yet our world was new,
When not discover'd by the old;
E're begger'd Slaves we grew,
For having Silver Hills, and Strands of Gold.
Chorus.
We danc'd and we sung,
And lookt ever young,
And from restraints were free,
As waves and winds at Sea.
2.
When wildly we did live,
E're crafty Cities made us tame:
When each his whole would give
To all, and none peculiar right did claim.
Chorus.
We danc'd and we sung,
&c.
3.
When none did riches wish,
And none were rich by bus'ness made;
When all did Hunt or Fish,
And sport was all our labour and our trade.
Chorus.
We danc'd and we sung,
&c.
4.
When Forts were not devis'd,
Nor Cittadils did Townes devour:
When lowly sheds suffic'd,
Because we fear'd the Weather more than Pow'r.
Chorus.
We danc'd and we sung,
&c.
5.
When Garments were not worn,
Nor shame did nakednesse resent:
Nor Poverty bred scorn:
When none could want, and all were innocent.
Chorus.
We danc'd and we sung,
&c.
After this Song, a Rope descends out of the Clowds, and is stretcht to a stifness by an Engine, whilst a Rustick Ayre is play'd, to which two Apes from opposite sides of the Wood come out, listen, return; and, comming out again, begin to dance, then, after a while, one of them leaps up to the Rope, and there dances to the same Ayre, whilst the other moves to his measures below Then both retire into the Wood. The Rope ascends.
The Second Entry.
AN Alman and Corante are plai'd: after which a Trumpet-Ayre changes the Scene; where a Fleet is discern'd at distance, with a prospect of the Sea and Indian Coast; the Ships bearing in their Flags the Spread-Eagle, to denote the Austrian Family; and on the right side are seen some Natives of Peru, pointing with amazment to the Fleet, (as never having had the [Page 7]view of Ships before) and in a mourning condition take their leaves of their wives and children; because of an antient Prophecy amongst them, which did signifie, That a Bearded People (those of Peru having ever held it uncomely to wear Beards) should spring out of the Sea, and conquer them. The object having remained a while, the Priest of the Sun enters with his Attendant.
The Second Speech.
Describing briefly the pleasant lives of the Incas till this season of fulfilling that Prophecy, when a Bearded People should come from the Sea to destroy them; and two of the Incan Family ruine that Empire, which twelve of the Emperours had erecte [...].
IN all the soft delights of sleep and ease,
Secure from War, in peacefull Palaces,
Our Incas liv'd: but now I see their doom:
Guided by winds, the Bearded People come!
And that dire Prophecy must be fulfill'd,
When Two shall ruine what our Twelve did build.
'Tis long since first the Sun's chief Priest foretold,
That cruell men, Idolaters of Gold,
Should pass vast Seas to seek their Harbour here.
Behold, in floating Castles they appear!
Mine eyes are struck! Away, away
VVith gentle Love's delicious sway!
The Incas from their wives must fly!
And ours may soon believe
VVe mourn to see them grieve,
But shall rejoyce to see them die.
For they by dying safety gain:
And when they quit,
In Death's cold fit,
Love's pleasure, they shall lose Life's pain.
The Priest having wav'd his Verge, his Attendant performs the Trick of Activity, call'd the Sea-Horse.
The Second Song.
Intimating their sorrow for their future condition, (according to the Prophecy) under their new Masters the Spaniards.
1.
NO more, no more,
Shall we drag to the Shore
Our Nets at the Ebb of the Flood;
Nor after we lay
The toyles for our Prey,
Shall we meet to compass the VVood.
Nor with our Arrowes e're delight,
To get renown
By taking down
The soaring Eagle in his flight.
2.
Make haste! make haste!
You delights that are past!
And do not to our thoughts appear:
Lest vainly we boast
Of joyes we have lost,
And grieve to reckon what we were.
The Incas glory now is gone!
Dark growes that light,
Which chear'd our sight,
Set is their deity, the Sun.
Chorus.
All creatures when they breed
May then with safety feed:
All shall have times for liberty but we.
We, who their Masters were,
Must now such Masters fear,
As will no season give us to be free.
This Song being ended, a dolfull Ayre is heard, which prepares the entrance of two Indians, in their feather'd habits of Peru; they enter severally from the opposite sides of the Wood, and gazing on the face of the Scene, fall into a Mimick Dance, in which they express the Argument of the Prospect, by their admiration at the sight of the Ships, (which was to those of Peru a new and wonderfull object) and their lamentation, at beholding their Countrymen in deep affliction, and taking their leaves of their wives and children.
The Third Entry.
A Symphany, consisting of four Tunes, prepares the change of the Scene; the [Page 11]prospect consisting of plain Indian Country, in which are discern'd at distance two Peruvian Armies marching, and ready to give Battel, being led by the two Royall Brethren, sons of the last Inca, Arm'd with Bowes, Glaves, and Spears, and wearing Quivers on their backs. The object having continu'd a while, the Priest of the Sun enters with his Attendant.
The Third Speech.
Intimating the unhappy event of the love of the last Inca; for be (contrary to the custome of all his Royall Ancestors, who alwaies marry'd their own Sisters) had chosen to his second Wife the beautifull Daughter of an inferiour Prince: his Priests and People having alwaies believ'd no blood, lesse distant then that of his Sisters, worthy to mingle with his own for propagation of the Emperiall Race. This forraign Beauty so far prevail'd on his passion, that she made him in his [Page 12]age assigne a considerable part of his Dominion to a younger Son, his Ancestors never having, during eleven Generations, divided their Empire. This Youth, growing ambitious after his fathers death, invaded his elder Brother at that unfortunate time when the Spaniards, pursuing their second discovery of the Peruvian Coast, landed, and made a prodigious use of the division of the two Brethren, by proving successfull in giving their assistance to the unjust cause of the Younger.
HOw fatall did our Inca's passion prove,
Whilst long made subject to a forraign love?
Poor Lovers, who from Empire's arts are free,
By nature may entirely guided be,
They may retire to shady Cottages,
And study there onely themselves to please:
For few consider what they mean or do;
But Nations are concern'd when Monarchs woe.
And though our Inca by no Law was ty'd
To love but one, yer could he not divide
His publick Empire as his private Bed.
In Thrones each is to whole Dominion bred.
He blindly priz'd his younger son's desert,
Dividing Empire as he did his heart.
And since his death, this made the Younger dare
T'affront the Elder's Sov'raignty with war.
Ambition's monstrous stomach does encrease
By eating, and it fears to starve, unlesse
It still may feed, and all it sees devour.
Ambition is not tir'd with toyle, nor cloy'd with pow'r.
This Speech being ended, the Priest waves his Verge, and his Attendant very activly performs the Spring; and they departing, this Third Song is sung.
The Third Song.
Which pursues the Argument of the Speech, and farther illustrates the many miseries, which the Civill War between the two Royall Brethren produc'd.
1.
TVVelve Incas have successivly
Our spatious Empire sway'd;
VVhose power whilst we obey'd,
VVe liv'd so happy and so free,
As if we were not kept in awe
By any Law,
VVhich martiall Kings aloud proclaim.
Soft conscience, Nature's whisp'ring Oratour,
Did teach us what to love or to abhor;
And all our punishment was shame.
2.
Our late great Inca fatally,
Did by a second wife
Eclipse his shining life,
VVhilst reason did on love rely.
Those Rayes she often turn'd and check't,
VVhich with direct
Full beams should have adorn'd his known
And first authoris'd Race: But Kings who move
VVithin a lowly sphear of private love,
Are too domestick for a Throne.
Chorus.
Now rigid VVar is come, and Peace is gone,
Fear governs us, and jealousie the Throne.
Ambition hath our Chiefs possest:
All now are wak't, all are alarm'd:
The weary know not where to rest,
Nor dare the harmlesse be unarm'd.
After this Song a warlike Ayre is play'd, to which succeeds a martiall Dance, perform'd by four Peruvians, arm'd with Glaves, who enter severally from opposite sides of the VVood, and expresse by their motions and gestures the fury of that Civill VVar, which, by the ambition of the younger Brother, has engag'd their Country; and then depart in pursuit of each other.
The Fourth Entry.
A Symphany consisting of four Tunes, prepares the change of the Scene, which represents a great Peruvian Army, put to flight by a small Body of Spaniards. This object is produc'd in pursuance of the main Argument; for the Spaniards having first bred an amazment in the Natives, by the noise and fire of their Guns, and having afterwards subverted the Elder Inca by assisting the Younger; did in a short time attain the Dominion over both by Conquest, The object of this Scene having remain'd a while, the Priest of the Sun enters with his Attendant.
The Fourth Speech.
Intimating the amazment of the Peruvians at the sight of the Spaniards in Arms; the consideration of the great distance of the Region from whence they came; for the ill effects of Armour worn by a People whom they never had offended, and of the security of innocence.
VVHat dark and distant Region bred
For war that bearded Race,
Whose ev'ry uncouth face
We more then Death's cold vissage dread?
They could not still be guided by the Sun.
Nor had they ev'ry night
The Moon t'inform their sight,
How durst they seek those dangers which we shun?
Sure they must more then mortall be,
That did so little care
For life, or else they are
Surer of future life than we.
But how they reasons Lawes in life fulfill
We know not; yet we know,
That scorn of life is low,
Compar'd to the disdain of living ill.
And we may judge that all they do
In life's whole scene is bad,
Since they with Arms are clad
Defensive and Offensive too.
In Nature it is fear that makes us arme;
And fear by guilt is bred:
The guiltlesse nothing dread,
Defence of seeking, nor designing harm.
The Priest of the Sun waves his Verge, and his Attendant performs the self-Spring.
The Fourth Song.
Pursuing the Argument of the amazment and fear of the Natives, occasion'd by the consideration of the long Voyage of the Spaniards to invade them.
1.
THose forraigne shapes so strange appear,
That wonderfull they seem:
And strangenesse breeds esteem;
And wonder doth engender fear:
And from our fear does adoration rise:
Else why do we encline
To think them Pow'rs divine,
And that we are ordain'd their sacrifice▪
Chorus.
1. When we our Arrowes draw,
It is with dreadfull awe:
2. Moving towards them whom we are loth to meet,
3. As if we marcht to face our destiny:
4. Not trusting to our Arrowes but our feet,
As if our bus'ness were to fly, to fly!
2.
All in Chorus.
We thought them more then human kind,
That durst adventure life
Through the tempestuous strife
Of seas, and ev'ry raging wind.
Through seas so wide, and for their depth so fear'd,
That we by leaps as soon
May reach th'ascended Moon,
As guesse through what vast dangers they have steer'd.
Chorus.
When we our Arrowes draw, &c.
This Song being ended, a Sarabrand is plai'd, whilst two Spaniards enter from the opposite sides of the Scene, exactly cloth'd and arm'd according to the custom of their Nation: and, to express their triumph after the victory over the Natives, they solemnly uncloak and unarm themselves to the Tune, and afterwards dance with Castanietos.
The Fifth Entry.
A Dolefull Pavin is plai'd to prepare the change of the Scene, which represents a dark Prison at great distance; and farther to the view are discern'd Racks, and other Engines of torment, with which the Spaniards are tormenting the Natives and English Marriners, which may be suppos'd to be lately landed there to discover the Coast. Two Spaniards are likewise discover'd, sitting in their cloakes, and appearing more solemn in Ruffs, with Rapiers and Daggers by their sides; the one turning a Spit, whilst the other is basting an Indian Prince, which is rosted at an artificiall fire. This object having remain'd a while, the Priest of the Sun enters with his Attendant.
The Fifth Speech.
The horrour of the Natives, bred by the object of the diversity of new torments devis'd by the Spaniards.
THese study arts of length'ning languishment,
And strength'ning those for pains whom pain hath spent.
They make the Cramp, by waters drill'd, to ceise
Men ready to expire,
Baste them with drops of fire,
And then, they lay them on the Rack for ease.
VVhat Race is this, who for our punishment
Pretend that they in haste from Heav'n were sent,
As just destroyers of Idolatry?
Yet will they not permit
We should our Idolls quit,
Because the Christian Lawe makes Converts free.
Or if, to please their Priests, some Chief permits
A few of us to be their Proselytes;
Yet all our freedom then is but deceit.
They ease us from our Chains
To make us take more pains,
Light'ning our legs to give our shoulders weight.
And other Christian strangers landing here,
Strait, to their jealous sight, as spies appear:
And those, they so much worse then Heathens deem,
That they must tortur'd die.
The world still waste must lye,
Or else a prison be to all but them.
His speech being ended, he waves his Verge, and his Attendant performs the Porpoise.
The Fifth Song.
Pursuing the Argument of the Speech, by a farther detestation of that cruelty, which the ambition of the Spaniards made them exercise in Peru.
1.
IF Man from sov'raign reason does derive
O're Beasts a high prerogative,
Why does he so himself behave,
That Beasts appear to be
More rationall then he?
Who has deserv'd to be their slave.
2.
How comes wild cruelty in human breasts?
Proud Man more cruell is than Beasts;
When beasts by hunger are enrag'd,
They no long pains devise
For dying enemies,
But kill, and eat, and are asswag'd.
3.
So much is Man refin'd in cruelty
As not to make men quickly dye.
He knowes by death all pains are past.
But as he hath the skill
A thousand waies to kill,
So hath he more to make pains last.
Chorus.
When Beasts each other chale and then devour,
'Tis Natures Law, necessity,
Which makes them hunt for food, & not for pow'r:
Men for Dominion, Art's chief vanity,
Contrive to make mend die;
Whose blood through wantonness they spil,
Not having use of what they kill.
This Song being ended, a mournfull Ayre is play'd, preparing the entrance of three Peruvians, limping in silver-fetters. They are driven into the Wood by an insulting Spaniard, with a Truncheon; [Page 23]then enter again loaden with Indian baskets full of golden Ingors, and silver Wedges, and lying down with the weight of their burthens, are raised by the blowes of the Spaniard, and fall into a halting Dance, till the Spaniard, reviving their wearinesse with his Truncheon, drives them again into the Wood.
The Sixt Entry.
A Symphony prepares the last change of the Scene, and an Army is discern'd at distance, consisting of English and Peruvians; the Van is led by the English, who are distinguisht by the Ensignes of England, and their Red-Coats. The Reer is brought up by the Peruvians, who are known by their feather'd Habits, Claves, and Spears. There is likewise discern'd a Body of arm'd Spaniards, their backs turn'd, and there Reer scatter'd as if put to flight. These imaginary English Forces may seem improper, because the English had made no discovery [Page 24]of Peru, in the time of the Spaniards first invasion there; but yet in Poeticall Representations of this nature, it may pass as a Vision discern'd by the Priest of the Sun, before the matter was extant, in order to his Prophecy.
This object having remain'd a while, the Priest of the Sun enters with his Attendant.
The Sixt Speech.
Intimating their first adoration of the Spaniards when they landed, the behaviour of the Spaniards towards them, and a Prophecy that they shall be reliev'd by the English.
VVE on our knees these Spaniards did receive
As gods, when first they taught us to believe.
They came from Heaven, and us o're heights would lead,
Higher then e're our sinfull fathers fled.
Experience now (by whose true eyes, though slow,
We find at last, what oft too late we know)
Has all their cous'ning miracles discern'd:
'Tis she that makes unletter'd mankind learn'd,
She has unmask't these Spanish dark Divines:
Perhaps they upward go,
But hasten us below,
Where we, through dismall depths, must dig in Mines.
When first the valiant English landed here,
Our reason then no more was rul'd by fear:
They streight the Spaniards Riddle did unfold,
Whose Heav'n in caverns lies of others Gold.
Our griefs are past, and we shall cease to mourn,
For those whom the insulting Spaniards scorn,
And slaves esteem,
The English soon shall free;
Whilst we the Spaniards see
Digging for them.
The Priest having ended his Speech, waves his Verge, and his Attendant performs the double Somerset.
The Priest being gone, a wild Ayre is play'd, (differing from that in the First Entry) which prepares the comming in of a Spaniard out of the Wood, loaden with Ingots of Gold, and Wedges of Silver. He makes his footing to the tune of the Instruments; and after a while he discovers a wearinesse and inclination to sleep, to which purpose he lies down, with his basket for his pillow. Two Apes come in from opposite sides of the Wood, and dance to the Ayre. After a while, a great Baboom [Page 26]enters, and joynes with them in the Dance. They wake the Spaniard, and end the Antique Measures with driving him into the Wood.
The Six Song.
Pursuing the Argument of that Prophecy, which foretells the subversion of the Spaniards by the English.
VVE shall no longer fear
The Spanish Eagle darkly hov'ging here;
For though from farthest Climes he hither fled,
And spatiously his wings has spread:
Yet th'English Lion now
Does still victorious grow,
And does delight
To make his walks as far
As th'other e're did dare
To make his flight.
CHORUS
1 High, 2 high, 3 and high
4 Our Arrowes shall slie,
And reach the winged for our prey.
Our Nets we'l cast; and Sprindges lay:
The Ayre, the River, and the Wood,
Shall yield us sport and change of food.
All in Chorus.
After all our dysasters
The proud Spaniards our Masters,
When we extoll our liberty by feasts,
At Table shall serve,
Or else they shall starve;
Whilst th'English shall sit and rule as our guests.
This Song being ended, as Ayre, consisting of three Tunes, prepares the grand Dance, three Indians entring first, afterwards to them three English Souldiers, distinguisht by their Red-Coats, and to them a Spaniard, who mingling in the measures with the rest, does in his gestures expresse pride and sullennesse towards the Indians, and payes a lowly homage to the English, who often salute him with their feet, which salutation he returns with a more lowly gravity; whilst the English and the Indians, as they encounter, salute and shake hands, in signe of their future amity. This Dance being perform'd, the Entertainment ends, and
The Curtain falls.
FINIS.