Act 1 — Scene I.—PLYMOUTH—A STREET ALONG THE QUAY.

The harbour and ships, sailors swaggering about with a bold, saucy, defiant air, richly dressed, displaying a profusion of silks, gold, and jewelry; their women also flaunting in rich dresses.—Enter an English spy.

English Spy, (In a serious musing attitude)—I have watched this game from its beginning, when Mary married Philip. With all the might of Spain and Rome to back her she failed to crush a seeming helpless girl. The young Nobility, the proud hold chivalry of England took her part! On high paced steeds they rode her escort, or thronged her house with levies which shamed the deserted Court. Where’er she moved abroad, the roaring multitude surged round her, unbonneted to their idol as she passed. I saw that Church and Spain must lose! Elizabeth would be Queen at last! (He walks a few steps with a satisfied air.) When Mary’s reign was closed, what shouts of joy broke from emancipated London! A pall as black as death seemed lifted off men’s souls. What tables of rejoicing lined the streets! What blazing bonfires reddened all the walls! Catholic and Protestant forgot their creeds to hail the rising sun of Liberty! I said Priests and Monks may plot. There is one only party in the State. England for herself against the World! So hath it been of yore, so let it be for ever. No foreign Despot will she ever brook. (He walks proudly). What experience has been mine? Poverty! Power! Influence! rare companions! meeting only in the Monk—and he a Jesuit, a Missionary; what lands I have visited, what dangers and hardships encountered! hunger, thirst, travel, fatigue; frozen in the snows of Siberia, burnt to a living cinder in the Torrid Zone; perils by sea and land, the barbarous savage with open violence or poisoned weapon; still worse the pestilence that walketh in darkness. All have I endured. (His reverie is interrupted—startled by tremendous shouts and cheers of a violent crowd rapidly approaching).

Crowd, (behind the scenes). Hurrah for England! Down with Spain and her inquisition! Hurrah for the El Dorado! Hurrah for the General!

(Startled) What terrible hurly, burly now? Another gust of the rising tempest that is to shake the nations!

Enter a turbulent crowd of sailors, bursting in with a great banner on which is blazoned a ship in gold, and in similar letters the name “El Dorado,” cheering and shouting with violent gestures and confusion.

Crowd. Hurrah for the Virgin Queen! Down with Spain and her Inquisition.

1st Sailor. The Queen! God bless her, and give her a good English husband. No foreign rule here!

2nd Sailor. Confusion to Philip and all Foreigners! England for the English!

3rd Sailor. Aye! Aye! lads. We’ll keep them out! No landing of the foe on our coasts. Our cruizers will keep the channel clear.

4th Sailor (with energy). The Channel’s ours!

Spy (aside) No doubt, they will clear it of everything that carries gold, or other foreign valuables, without being over particular about their nationality.

The chief or general, standing beside the banner, a tall powerful man, though young, sunburnt, and weather-beaten, gaudily dressed as silk, velvet, gold and jewels can make him. In his broad belt plaited with gold, are stuck a brace of heavy pistols, richly chased with silver, and a long dagger hafted with gold and diamonds. On his head a blue velvet cap with a gold band. On the velvet, emblazoned with jewels, a ship with the words “El Dorado.” He holds forth in his left hand a large ingot, or bar of gold.

Chief. Look ye here, ye sons of the Ocean Queen, ye storm-birds that have the daring spirit of your sea-king race, that love the raging surf, and the mountain wave when it rolls the highest! Ye of the forward step, and the ready fist, who wish for a little of this! (holding out the ingot). (Cheers). Who’ll volunteer for the good ship El Dorado? We don’t want every lubber that may offer, only roaring boys that are not afraid to board a Spanish galleon without counting the square feet of her lumbering hull, or the hundreds of her cowardly crew. The El Dorado has a speedy forefoot, I can tell you; she can run the Caribs in about a fortnight, and we don’t care who knows the When and the Whither, not as much as one!—Copper!—Maravedi! (snapping his fingers).

Crowd, (cheering), Hurrah! That’s the talk and no bunkum! We know you, General. We’ll follow you to the death.

1st Bystander. Who is he? A gallant bearing and tall! He looks a hero born for command.

2nd Bystander. So he ought to look; Don’t you know him? That’s young Lord —. (He whispers the name), one of Elizabeth’s early lovers. One of the five hundred young nobles who rode beside her in defiance of Mary’s wrath. When his idol was insulted at Court, he behaved so violently that he became a marked man, and the persecution growing hot, he took to the sea for vengeance on the Spanish party. Now he sticks to it, you perceive, for something else, (with a knowing look).

Chief. Now then! who’s for the free flag and the gold coast? We have already seventy hands, and want a few to make up a hundred. That’s enough of Englishmen to carry any of their goldships, or any Spanish town in the world. We want especially the sons of our brave men who have died in Spanish dungeons, or by fire and faggot! (Shouts of indignation and hurrah for the General).

Crowd. Here we are, General! We’ll man your guns for you! Hurrah! We’ll pay them off all old scores!

1st Sailor, (in a swaggering tone.) I have searched the whole coast, from Rio de la Hacha to San Juan, have been up the Darien and the Bocco del Torro, I know every creek where a Cruizer can lie like an Alligator for her prey.

2nd Sailor. And I every coral-reef, from the Windward islands to Bahama. I’ll pilot you, General.

Chief. Come on then, my Bullies!—To the brave ship El-Dorado! March!

They advance with the Standard singing and stamping in time as sailors do when weighing anchor; the crowd following and joining in with excitement, as they chant the following doggerel.

Spy, (looking after them.) A tempting offer! had I not a deeper game upon the die of Fate, and a loftier stake to play for than all the gold of the Indies—the liberty of the world! How many parts I have filled in social life! A bigot and inquisitor in Despotic Rome, I saw fierce Bourbon, called the Constable, rush with hot valour on her wall; I fired the death-shot! saw the Apostate fall! ’Twas vain! The mighty wave swept on resistless. The City of the Caesars and the Popes—the twice Mistress of the world—lay helpless under the ruffian foe, defiling what fierce Vandal and noble Goth majestic in strength and courage spared. No place was sacred. No party safe. The sanctuaries of religion, the sepulchres of the dead, the very tomb of St. Peter rifled for their wealth; Guelph and Ghibeline, Priest and Layman, the vilest trades and callings taxed for contributions when plunder failed;—and when the blood-hound scent for gold came to fault, torture was applied, without respect to rank, or sex, or age, to wring the last scudo from the prostrate people. There was a spoil! ten millions of gold! the garnered harvest of centuries of corruption, the imposts of a taxed world gathered in one stagnant pool. Offerings of pilgrims, gifts of the dying; the orphan’s patrimony; the widow’s dower; extortions of Ecclesiastical Courts; indulgences; the liquidated value of every vice, lust and crime! bribes for which Heaven had bartered its joys, and hell had commuted its torments of the damned! The sack of Imperial Rome! (holding up his hands in dismay) Satanic Bourbon! Infernal Tempter! Thou knew’st the mystic Solder which alone could weld that Rebel Host, mad with lust and hunger, discordant, dissolute, through battle, fatigue, and famine! And hurl the blazing Meteor on the goal of thy Vengeance and Ambition! I beheld the Holy Father himself a prisoner in his castle of St. Angelo; his jailors! the Catholics of Spain. My eyes were opened! I fled from the Desolation. Before me spread an Earthquake of Republics, a wreck of Nations. France and Spain had torn the land. I took refuge in the fleet of Dorea with the Spirits that were left. Genoa rose at his heroic summons. We proclaimed the Republic. Yes! I saw that last flame of Italian Glory! It flickered and went out for ever. Through the once free cities of Italy I harangued the Infidel—in democratic clubs on the rights of Nature—the Republicans on their laws—to gather up the broken fragments of their liberties, and arm against the spoilers of the land. In Holland I preached freedom through the grim creed of Calvin, and urged the dull Flemmings to defend their Constitutions. I have been all things to all men. My single foe—Despotic Spain—My creed, its overthrow. In England two characters by turns. A conspirator to assassinate the Queen with fanatics who would deluge the land with blood, destroy their own and other’s freedom, and yield our glorious Island to a foreign tyrant—the execrable Philip. And now I am an agent of the unselfish Patriot, Walsingham (I would trust none other!)—to foil this foul conspiracy, and save my native country from slavery and ruin. I must to the “Blue Anchor” to meet this Arch-plotter for the Church and Philip. I’ll search his inmost thoughts. I’ll sound the very depths of all his treason! (Exit.)