The Cruelty of the SPANIARDS IN PERU. Expressed by Instrumental and Vocal Music, and by Art of Perspective in Scenes, etc. Represented daily at the Cockpit in DRURY-LANE, At Three after noon punctually. LONDON, Printed for Henry Herriagman, and are to be sold at his Shop at the Anchor in the Lower walk in the New Exchange. 1658. The description of the FRONTISPIECE. AN Arch is discerned raised upon stone of Rustic work; upon the top of which is written, in an Antique Shield, PERU; and two Antique Shields are fixed a little lower on the sides, the one bearing the Figure of the Sun, which was the Scutcheon of the Incas, who were Emperors of Peru: The other did bear the Spread-Eagle, in signification of the Austrian Family. The design of the Frontispiece, is, by way of preparation, to give some notice of that Argument which is pursued in the Scene. The Argument of the whole Design, consisting of six ENTRIES. THe Design is first to represent the happy condition of the People of Peru anciently, when their inclinations were governed by Nature; and than it makes some discovery of their establishment under the Twelve Incas, and of the dissensions of the two Sons of the last Inca. Then proceeds to the discovery of that new Western World by the Spaniard, which happened to be during the dissension of the two Royal Brethren. It likewise proceeds to the Spaniards Conquest of that Incan Empire, and then discovers the cruelty of the Spaniards over the Indians, and over all Christians (excepting those of their own Nation) who landing in those Parts, came unhappily into their power. And towards the conclusion, it infers the Voyages of the English thither, and the amity of the Natives towards them, under whose Ensigns (encouraged by a Prophecy of their chief Priest) they hope to be made Victorious, and to be freed from the Yoke of the Spaniard. The Cruelty of the SPANIARDS IN PERU. The Curtain is drawn up. The First ENTRY. THE Audience are entertained by Instrumental Music and a Symphany (being a wild Air suitable to the Region) which having prepared the Scene, a Lantdchap of the West- Indies is discerned; distinguished from other Regions by the parched and bare Tops of distant Hills, by Sands shining on the shores of Rivers, and the Natives, in feathered Habits and Bonnets, carrying, in Indian Baskets, Ingots of Gold and Wedges of Silver. Some of the Natives being likewise discerned in their natural sports of Hunting and Fishing. This prospect is made through a wood, differing from those of European Climates by representing of Coco-Trees, Pines and Palmitoes; and on the boughs of other Trees are seen Monkeys, Apes and Parrots; and at farther distance Valleys of Sugarcanes. The Symphay being ended: The chief Priest of Peru enters with his Attendant after him. The Priest is clothed in a Garment of Feathers longer than any of those that are worn by other Natives, with a Bonnet whose ornament of Plumes does likewise give him a distinction from the rest, and carries in his hand a guilded Verge. He likewise, because the Peruvians were worshippers of the Sun, carries 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 Royal Family of the Incas taught them to live together in Multitudes, under Laws, 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: she did use Art's Colours, and e'er fear Had made her pale, or she with cares looked old. When various sports did Man's loved 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 Laws of sway. When yet we no just motive had to fear Our bolder Incas would by Arms be raised; When, temp'rately, they still contented were, As great Examples, to be only praised. When none for being strong did seek reward, Nor any for the space of Empire strove: When Valour courted Peace and never cared For any recompense, but public love. We fettered none, nor were by any bound; None followed Gold through Lab'rynths of the Mine: And that which we on Strands of Rivers found, Did only on our Priests in Temples shine. Then with his Verge, each Priest Can, 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 Music are placed 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. Whilst yet our world was new, When not discovered by the old; e'er beggared Slaves we grew, For having Silver Hills, and Strands of Gold. Chorus. We danced and we sung, And looked ever young, And from restraints were free, As waves and winds at Sea. 2. When wildly we did live, crafty Cities made us tame: When each his whole would give To all, and none peculiar right did claim. Chorus. We danced and we sung, etc. 3. When none did riches wish, And none were rich by business made; When all did Hunt or Fish, And sport was all our labour and our trade. Chorus. We danced and we sung, etc. 4. When Forts were not devised, Nor Cittadils did Towns devour: When lowly sheds sufficed, Because we feared the Wether more than Power. Chorus. We danced and we sung, etc. 5. When Garments were not worn, Nor shame did nakedness resent: Nor Poverty bred scorn: When none could want, and all were innocent. Chorus. We danced and we sung, etc. After this Song, a Rope descends out of the Clouds, and is stretched to a stifness by an Engine, whilst a Rustic Air is played, to which two Apes from opposite sides of the Wood come out, listen, return; and, coming out again, begin to dance, then, after a while, one of them leaps up to the Rope, and there dances to the same Air, 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 played: after which a Trumpet-Ayre changes the Scene; where a Fleet is discerned 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 amazement to the Fleet, (as never having had the view of Ships before) and in a mourning condition take their leaves of their wives and children; because of an ancient Prophecy amongst them, which did signify, 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 ruin that Empire, which twelve of the Emperors had erecte●. IN all the soft delights of sleep and ease, Secure from War, in peaceful Palaces, Our Incas lived: but now I see their doom: Guided by winds, the Bearded People come! And that dire Prophecy must be fulfilled, When Two shall ruin what our Twelve did build. 'Tis long since first the Sun's chief Priest foretold, That cruel 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 With gentle Love's delicious sway! The Incas from their wives must fly! And ours may soon believe We mourn to see them grieve, But shall rejoice 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 waved his Verge, his Attendant performs the Trick of Activity, called 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 toils for our Prey, Shall we meet to compass the Wood Nor with our Arrows 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 joys we have lost, And grieve to reckon what we were. The Incas glory now is gone! Dark grows that light, Which cheered 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 Master's fear, As will no season give us to be free. This Song being ended, a doleful Air is heard, which prepares the entrance of two Indians, in their feathered habits of Peru; they enter severally from the opposite sides of the Wood, and gazing on the face of the Scene, fall into a Mimic 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 wonderful 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 prospect consisting of plain Indian Country, in which are discerned at distance two Peruvian Armies marching, and ready to give Battle, being led by the two Royal Brethren, sons of the last Inca, Armed with Bowes, Glaves, and Spears, and wearing Quivers on their backs. The object having continued 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 custom of all his Royal Ancestors, who always married their own Sisters) had chosen to his second Wife the beautiful Daughter of an inferior Prince: his Priests and People having always believed no blood, less distant than that of his Sisters, worthy to mingle with his own for propagation of the Imperial Race. This foreign Beauty so far prevailed on his passion, that she made him in his age assign 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 father's 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 successful in giving their assistance to the unjust cause of the Younger. HOw fatal did our Inca's passion prove, Whilst long made subject to a foreign 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 only themselves to please: For few consider what they mean or do; But Nations are concerned when Monarch's woe. And though our Inca by no Law was tied To love but one, yet could he not divide His public Empire as his private Bed. In Thrones each is to whole Dominion bred. He blindly prized 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 Sovereignty with war. Ambition's monstrous stomach does increase By eating, and it fears to starve, unless It still may feed, and all it sees devour. Ambition is not tired with toil, nor cloyed with power. This Speech being ended, the Priest waves his Verge, and his Attendant very actiuly 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 Civil War between the two Royal Brethren produced. 1. Twelve Incas have successiuly Our spacious Empire swayed; Whose power whilst we obeyed, We lived so happy and so free, As if we were not kept in awe By any Law, Which martial Kings aloud proclaim. Soft conscience, Nature's whispering Orator, 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, Whilst reason did on love rely. Those Rays she often turned and checked, Which with direct Full beams should have adorned his known And first authorised Race: But Kings who move Within a lowly sphere of private love, Are too domestic for a Throne. Chorus. Now rigid War is come, and Peace is gone, Fear governs us, and jealousy the Throne. Ambition hath our Chiefs possessed: All now are waked, all are alarmed: The weary know not where to rest, Nor dare the harmless be unarmed. After this Song a warlike Air is played, to which succeeds a martial Dance, performed by four Peruvians, armed with Glaves, who enter severally from opposite sides of the Wood, and express by their motions and gestures the fury of that Civil War, which, by the ambition of the younger Brother, has engaged their Country; and then departed 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 produced in pursuance of the main Argument; for the Spaniards having first bred an amazement 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 remained a while, the Priest of the Sun enters with his Attendant. The Fourth Speech. Intimating the amazement 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. What dark and distant Region bred For war that bearded Race, Whose every uncouth face We more than Death's cold visage dread? They could not still be guided by the Sun. Nor had they every night The Moon t'inform their sight, How dared they seek those dangers which we shun? Sure they must more than mortal be, That did so little care For life, or else they are Surer of future life than we. But how they reasons Laws in life fulfil We know not; yet we know, That scorn of life is low, Compared 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 arm; And fear by guilt is bred: The guiltless 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 amazement and fear of the Natives, occasioned by the consideration of the long Voyage of the Spaniards to invade them. 1. THose foreign shapes so strange appear, That wonderful they seem: And strangeness breeds esteem; And wonder doth engender fear: And from our fear does adoration rise: Else why do we incline To think them Powers divine, And that we are ordained their sacrifice▪ Chorus. 1. When we our Arrows draw, It is with dreadful awe: 2. Moving towards them whom we are loath to meet, 3. As if we marched to face our destiny: 4. Not trusting to our Arrows but our feet, As if our business were to fly, to fly! 2. All in Chorus. We thought them more than human kind, That durst adventure life Through the tempestuous strife Of seas, and every raging wind. Through seas so wide, and for their depth so feared, That we by leaps as soon May reach th'ascended Moon, As guess through what vast dangers they have steered. Chorus. When we our Arrows draw, etc. This Song being ended, a Sarabrand is played, whilst two Spaniards enter from the opposite sides of the Scene, exactly clothed and armed 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 Castanietoes. The Fifth Entry. A Dolefull Pavin is played to prepare the change of the Scene, which represents a dark Prison at great distance; and farther to the view are discerned Racks, and other Engines of torment, with which the Spaniards are tormenting the Natives and English Mariners, which may be supposed to be lately landed there to discover the Coast. Two Spaniards are likewise discovered, sitting in their cloaks, 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 roasted at an artificial fire. This object having remained a while, the Priest of the Sun enters with his Attendant. The Fifth Speech. The horror of the Natives, bred by the object of the diversity of new torments devised by the Spaniards. THese study arts of length'ning languishment, And strengthening those for pains whom pain hath spent. They make the Cramp, by waters drilled, to seize Men ready to expire, Baste them with drops of fire, And then, they lay them on the Rack for ease. What Race is this, who for our punishment Pretend that they in haste from Heaven were sent, As just destroyers of Idolatry? Yet will they not permit We should our Idols quit, Because the Christian Law 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, 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 than Heathens deem, That they must tortured die. The world still waste must lie, 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 sovereign reason does derive O'er Beasts a high prerogative, Why does he so himself behave, That Beasts appear to be More rational than he? Who has deserved to be their slave. 2. How comes wild cruelty in human breasts? Proud Man more cruel is than Beasts; When beasts by hunger are enraged, They no long pains devise For dying enemies, But kill, and eat, and are assuaged. 3. So much is Man refined in cruelty As not to make men quickly die. He knows by death all pains are past. But as he hath the skill A thousand ways to kill, So hath he more to make pains last. Chorus. When Beasts each other chale and then devour, 'Tis Nature's Law, necessity, Which makes them hunt for food, & not for power: Men for Dominion, Art's chief vanity, Contrive to make mend die; Whose blood through wantonness they spill, Not having use of what they kill. This Song being ended, a mournful Air is played, preparing the entrance of three Peruvians, limping in silver-fetters. They are driven into the Wood by an insulting Spaniard, with a Truncheon; then enter again loaden with Indian baskets full of golden Ingors, and silver Wedges, and lying down with the weight of their burdens, are raised by the blows of the Spaniard, and fall into a halting Dance, till the Spaniard, reviving their weariness with his Truncheon, drives them again into the Wood The sixth Entry. A Symphony prepares the last change of the Scene, and an Army is discerned at distance, consisting of English and Peruvians; the Van is led by the English, who are distinguished by the Ensigns of England, and their Red-Coats. The Rear is brought up by the Peruvians, who are known by their feathered Habits, Claves, and Spears. There is likewise discerned a Body of armed Spaniards, their backs turned, and there Rear scattered as if put to flight. These imaginary English Forces may seem improper, because the English had made no discovery of Peru, in the time of the Spaniards first invasion there; but yet in Poetical Representations of this nature, it may pass as a Vision discerned by the Priest of the Sun, before the matter was extant, in order to his Prophecy. This object having remained a while, the Priest of the Sun enters with his Attendant. The sixth 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 relieved by the English. WE on our knees these Spaniards did receive As gods, when first they taught us to believe. They came from Heaven, and us o'er heights would lead, Higher than e'er our sinful 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 discerned: 'Tis she that makes unlettered mankind learned, She has unmasked these Spanish dark Divines: Perhaps they upward go, But hasten us below, Where we, through dismal depths, must dig in Mines. When first the valiant English landed here, Our reason then no more was ruled by fear: They straight the Spaniards Riddle did unfold, Whose Heaven 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 Air is played, (differing from that in the First Entry) which prepares the coming 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 weariness 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 Air. After a while, a great Baboom enters, and joins 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. WE shall no longer fear The Spanish Eagle darkly hov'ging here; For though from farthest Climes he hither fled, And spaciously 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'er did dare To make his flight. CHORUS 1 High, 2 high, 3 and high 4 Our Arrows shall sly, And reach the winged for our prey. Our Nets we'll cast; and Sprindges lay: The Air, 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 extol 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 Air, consisting of three Tunes, prepares the grand Dance, three Indians entering first, afterwards to them three English Soldiers, distinguished by their Red-Coats, and to them a Spaniard, who mingling in the measures with the rest, does in his gestures express pride and sullenness towards the Indians, and pays 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 sign of their future amity. This Dance being performed, the Entertainment ends, and The Curtain falls. FINIS. Notwithstanding the great expense necessary to Scenes, and other ornaments in this Entertainment, there is a good provision made of places for a shilling. And it shall begin certainly at 3 after noon.