A Parcel too of Pans, and Knives, and Kettles.
145
Sharp. This rich and royal Bounty you’ll accept,
And as you please distribute to your Chiefs,
And let them know they come from England’s King,
As Tokens to them of his Love and Favour.
We’ve taken this long Journey at great Charge,
150
To see and hold with you this friendly Talk;
We hope your Minds are all disposed to Peace,
And that you like our Sovereign Bounty well.
1st Chief. We think it very small, we heard of more.
Most of our Chiefs and Warriors are not here,
155
They all expect to share a Part with us.
2d Chief. These won’t reach round to more than half our Tribes,
Few of our Chiefs will have a single Token
Of your King’s Bounty, that you speak so much of.
3d Chief. And those who have’nt will be dissatisfied,
160
Think themselves slighted, think your King is stingy,
Or else that you his Governors are Rogues,
And keep your Master’s Bounty for yourselves.
4th Chief. We hear such Tricks are sometimes play’d with Indians,
King Astenaco,46 the great Southern Chief,
165
Who’s been in England, and has seen your King,
Told me that he was generous, kind, and true,
But that his Officers were Rogues and Knaves,
And cheated Indians out of what he gave.
Gripe. The Devil’s in’t, I fear that we’re detected
[aside. 170
Ponteach. Indians a’n’t Fools, if White Men think us so;
We see, we hear, we think as well as you;
We know there’re Lies, and Mischiefs in the World;
We don’t know whom to trust, nor when to fear;
Men are uncertain, changing as the Wind,
175
Inconstant as the Waters of the Lakes,
Some smooth and fair, and pleasant as the Sun,
Some rough and boist’rous, like the Winter Storm;
Some are Insidious as the subtle Snake,
Some innocent, and harmless as the Dove;
180
Some like the Tyger raging, cruel, fierce,
Some like the Lamb, humble, submissive, mild,
And scarcely one is every Day the same;
But I call no Man bad, till such he’s found,
Then I condemn him and cast him from my Sight;
185
And no more trust him as a Friend and Brother.
I hope to find you honest Men and true.
Sharp. Indeed you may depend upon our Honours,
We’re faithful Servants of the best of Kings;
We scorn an imposition on your ignorance,
190
Abhor the Arts of Falshood and Deceit.
These are the Presents our great Monarch sent,
He’s of a bounteous, noble, princely Mind
And had he known the Numbers of your Chiefs,
Each would have largely shar’d his Royal Goodness;
195
But these are rich and worthy your Acceptance,
Few Kings on Earth can such as these bestow,
For Goodness, Beauty, Excellence, and Worth.
Ponteach. These Presents from your Sovereign I accept,
His friendly Belts to us shall be preserved,
200
And in Return convey you those to him.
[Belts and Furs.
Which let him know our Mind, and what we wish,
That we dislike his crusty Officers,
And wish the Path of Peace was made more plain,
The Calumet47 I do not chuse to smoak,
205
Till I see further, and my other Chiefs
Have been consulted. Tell your King from me,
That first or last a Rogue will be detected,
That I have Warriors, am myself a King,
And will be honour’d and obey’d as such;
210
Tell him my Subjects shall not be oppress’d,
But I will seek Redress and take Revenge;
Tell your King this; I have no more to say.
Sharp. To our great King your Gifts we will convey,
And let him know the Talk we’ve had with you;
215
We’re griev’d we cannot smoak the Pipe of Peace,
And part with stronger Proofs of Love and Friendship;
Mean time we hope you’ll so consider Matters,
As still to keep the Hatchet dull and buried,
And open wide the shining Path of Peace,
220
That you and we may walk without a Blunder.
[Exeunt Indians.
Gripe. Th’ appear not fully satisfied, I think.
Catchum. I do not like old Ponteach’s Talk and Air,
He seems suspicious, and inclin’d to war.
Sharp. They’re always jealous, bloody, and revengeful,
225
You see that they distrust our Word and Honour;
No wonder then if they suspect the Traders,
And often charge them with downright Injustice.
Gripe. True, when even we that come to make them Presents,
Cannot escape their Fears and Jealousies.
230
Catchum. Well, we have this, at least, to comfort us;
Their good Opinion is no Commendation,
Nor their foul Slanders any Stain to Honour.
I think we’ve done whatever Men could do
To reconcile their savage Minds to Peace.
235
If they’re displeas’d, our Honour is acquitted,
And we have not been wanting in our Duty
To them, our King, our Country, and our Friends.
Gripe. But what Returns are these they’ve left behind?
These Belts are valuable, and neatly wrought.48
240
Catchum. This Pack of Furs is very weighty too;
The Skins are pick’d, and of the choicest Kind.
Sharp. By Jove, they’re worth more Money than their Presents.
Gripe. Indeed they are; the King will be no Loser.
Sharp. The King! who ever sent such Trumpery to him?
245
Catchum. What would the King of England do with Wampum?
Or Beaver Skins, d’ye think? He’s not a Hatter!49
Gripe. Then it’s a Perquisite belongs to us?50
Sharp. Yes, they’re become our lawful Goods and Chattels,
By all the Rules and Laws of Indian Treaties.
250
The King would scorn to take a Gift from Indians,
And think us Madmen should we send them to him.51
Catchum. I understand we make a fair Division,
And have no Words nor Fraud among ourselves.
Sharp. We throw the whole into one common Stock,
255
And go Copartners in the Loss and Gain.
Thus most who handle Money for the Crown
Find means to make the better Half their own;
And, to your better Judgments with Submission,
The self Neglecter’s a poor Politician.
260
These Gifts, you see, will all Expences pay;
Heav’n send an Indian Treaty every Day;
We dearly love to serve our King this Way.
The End of the First ACT.
* * *
ACT II.
SCENE I.
An Indian House.
Enter Philip52 and Chekitan,53 from hunting, loaded with Venison.54
Philip.
The Day’s Toil’s ended, and the Ev’ning smiles
With all the Joy and Pleasantness of Plenty.
Our good Success and Fortune in the Chace
Will make us Mirth and Pastime for the Night.
How will the old King and his Hunters smile
5
To see us loaded with the fatt’ning Prey,
And joyously relate their own Adventures?
Not the brave Victor’s Shout, or Spoils of War,
Would give such Pleasure to their gladden’d Hearts.
Chekitan. These, Philip, are the unstain’d Fruits of Peace,
10
Effected by the conqu’ring British Troops.
Now may we hunt the Wilds secure from Foes,55
And seek our Food and Cloathing by the Chace,
While Ease and Plenty thro’ our Country reign.
Philip. Happy Effects indeed! long may they last!
15
But I suspect the Term will be but short,
Ere this our happy Realm is curs’d afresh
With all the Noise and Miseries of War,
And Blood and Murder stain our Land again.
Chekitan. What hast thou heard that seems to threaten this,
20
Or is it idle Fancy and Conjectures?
Philip. Our Father’s late Behaviour and Discourse
Unite to raise Suspicions in my Mind
Of his Designs? Hast thou not yet observ’d,
That tho’ at first he favour’d England’s Troops,
25
When they late landed on our fertile Shore,
Proclaim’d his Approbation of their March,
Convoy’d their Stores, protected them from Harm,
Nay, put them in Possession of Detroit;56
And join’d to fill the Air with loud Huzza’s
30
When England’s Flag was planted on its Walls?
Yet, since, he seems displeas’d at their Success,
Thinks himself injured, treated with Neglect
By their Commanders, as of no Account,57
As one, whose Right to Empire now is lost,
35
And he became a Vassal58 of their Power,
Instead of an Ally. At this he’s mov’d,
And in his Royal Bosom glows Revenge,
Which I suspect will sudden burst and spread
Like Lightning from the Summer’s burning Cloud,59
40
That instant sets whole Forests in a Blaze.
Chekitan. Something like this I have indeed perceiv’d;
And this explains what I but now beheld,
Returning from the Chace, myself concealed,
Our Royal Father basking in the Shade,
45
His Looks severe, Revenge was in his Eyes,
All his great Soul seem’d mounted in his Face,
And bent on something hazardous and great.
With pensive Air he view’d the Forest round;
Smote on his Breast as if oppress’d with Wrongs,
50
With Indignation stamp’d upon the Ground;
Extended then and shook his mighty Arm,
As in Defiance of a coming Foe;
Then like the hunted Elk he forward sprung,
As tho’ to trample his Assailants down.
55
The broken Accents murmur’d from his Tongue,
As rumbling Thunder from a distant Cloud,
Distinct I heard, ‘Tis fix’d, I’ll be reveng’d;
‘I will make War; I’ll drown this Land in Blood.’
He disappear’d like the fresh-started Doe
60
Pursu’d by Hounds o’er rocky Hills and Dales,
That instant leaves the anxious Hunter’s Eye;
Such was his Speed towards the other Chiefs.
Philip. He’s gone to sound their Minds to Peace and War,
And learn who’ll join the Hazards in his Cause.
65
The Fox, the Bear, the Eagle, Otter, Wolf,60
And other valiant Princes of the Empire,
Have late resorted hither for some End
Of common Import. Time will soon reveal
Their secret Counsels and their fix’d Decrees.
70
Peace has its Charms for those who love their Ease,
But active Souls like mine delight in Blood.
Chekitan. Should War be wag’d, what Discords may we fear
Among ourselves? The powerful Mohawk King
Will ne’er consent to fight against the English,61
75
Nay more, will join them as a firm Ally,
And influence other Chiefs by his Example,62
To muster all their Strength against our Father.
Fathers perhaps will fight against their Sons,
And nearest Friends pursue each other’s Lives;
80
Blood, Murder, Death, and Horror will be rife,
Where Peace and Love, and Friendship triumph now.
Philip. Such stale Conjectures smell of Cowardice.
Our Father’s Temper shews us the reverse:
All Danger he defies, and, once resolv’d,
85
No Arguments will move him to relent,
No Motives change his Purpose of Revenge,
No Prayers prevail upon him to delay
The Execution of his fix’d Design:
Like the starv’d Tyger in Pursuit of Prey,
90
No Opposition will retard his Course;
Like the wing’d Eagle that looks down on Clouds,
All Hindrances are little in his Eye,
And his great Mind knows not the Pain of Fear.
Chekitan. Such Hurricanes of Courage often lead
95
To Shame and Disappointment in the End,
And tumble blindfold on their own Disgrace.
True Valour’s flow, deliberate, and cool,
Considers well the End, the Way, the Means,
And weighs each Circumstance attending them.
100
Imaginary Dangers it detects,
And guards itself against all real Evils.
But here Tenesco comes with Speed important;
His Looks and Face presage us something new.
Tenesco. Hail, noble Youth! the News of your Return
105
And great Success has reach’d your Father’s Ears.
Great is his Joy; but something more important
Seems to rest heavy on his anxious Mind,
And he commands your Presence at his Cabbin.
Philip. We will attend his Call with utmost Speed,
110
Nor wait Refreshment after our Day’s Toil
[Exeunt.
SCENE II.
Ponteach’s Cabbin.
Ponteach, Philip, Chekitan, and Tenesco.
Ponteach.
My Sons, and trusty Counsellor Tenesco,
As the sweet smelling Rose, when yet a Bud,
Lies close conceal’d, till Time and the Sun’s Warmth
Hath swell’d, matur’d, and brought it forth to View,
So these my Purposes I now reveal
5
Are to be kept with You, on pain of Death,
Till Time hath ripen’d my aspiring Plan,
And Fortune’s Sunshine shall disclose the Whole;
Or should we fail, and Fortune prove perverse,
Let it be never known how far we fail’d,
10
Lest Fools shou’d triumph, or our Foes rejoice.
Tenesco. The Life of great Designs is Secrecy,
And in Affairs of State ’tis Honour’s Guard;
For Wisdom cannot form a Scheme so well,
But Fools will laugh if it should prove abortive;
15
And our Designs once known, our Honour’s made
Dependent on the Fickleness of Fortune.
Philip. What may your great and secret Purpose be,
That thus requires Concealment in its Birth?
Ponteach. To raise
the Hatchet from its short Repose,
20
Brighten its Edge, and stain it deep with Blood;
To scourge my proud, insulting, haughty Foes,
To enlarge my Empire; which will soon be yours:
Your Interest, Glory, Grandeur, I consult,
And therefore hope with Vigour you’ll pursue
25
And execute whatever I command.
Chekitan. When we refuse Obedience to your Will,
We are not worthy to be call’d your Sons.
Tenesco. Spoke like yourselves, the Sons of Ponteach;
Strength, Courage, and Obedience form the Soldier,
30
And the firm Base of all true Greatness lay.
Ponteach. Our Empire now is large, our Forces strong,
Our Chiefs are wise, our Warriors valiant Men;
We all are furnish’d with the best of Arms,
And all things requisite to curb a Foe;
35
And now’s our Time, if ever, to secure
Our Country, Kindred, Empire, all that’s dear,
From these Invaders of our Rights, the English,
And set their Bounds towards the rising Sun.
Long have I seen with a suspicious Eye
40
The Strength and growing Numbers of the French;
Their Forts and Settlements I’ve view’d as Snakes
Of mortal Bite, bound by the Winter Frost,
Which in some future warm reviving Day
Would stir and hiss, and spit their Poison forth,
45
And spread Destruction through our happy Land.
Where are we now? The French are all subdued,63
But who are in their Stead become our Lords?
A proud, imperious, churlish, haughty Band.
The French familiarized themselves with us,
50
Studied our Tongue, and Manners, wore our Dress,
Married our Daughters, and our Sons their Maids,
Dealt honestly, and well supplied our Wants,
Used no One ill, and treated with Respect
Our Kings, our Captains, and our aged Men;
55
Call’d us their Friends, nay, what is more, their Children,
And seem’d like Fathers anxious for our Welfare.
Whom see we now? their haughty Conquerors
Possess’d of every Fort, and Lake, and Pass,
Big with their Victories so often gain’d;
60
On us they look with deep Contempt and Scorn,
Are false, deceitful, knavish, insolent;
Nay think us conquered, and our Country theirs,
Without a Purchase, or ev’n asking for it.64
With Pleasure I wou’d call their King my Friend,
65
Yea, honour and obey him as my Father;
I’d be content, would he keep his own Sea,
Ponteach, or the Savages of America Page 10