To the Tune of Over the Hills and far away,117 sung by
Tenesco the Head Warrior. They all join in the
Chorus, and dance while that is singing in a Circle
round him; and during the Chorus the Musick plays.
Where-e’er the Sun displays his Light,
275
Or Moon is seen to shine by Night,
Where-e’er the noisy Rivers flow
Or Trees and Grass and Herbage grow.
Chorus.
Be’t known that we this War begin
With Proud insulting Englishmen;
280
The Hatchet we have lifted high,
[holding up their Hatchets.]
And them we’ll conquer or we’ll die.
Chorus.
The Edge is keen, the Blade is bright,
Nothing saves them but their Flight;
And then like Heroes we’ll pursue,
285
Over the Hills and Valleys through.
Chorus.
They’ll like frighted Women quake,
When they behold a hissing Snake;
Or like timorous Deer away,
And leave both Goods and Arms a Prey.
290
Chorus.
Pain’d with Hunger, Cold, or Heat,
In Haste they’ll from our Land retreat;
While we’ll employ our scalping Knives—
[drawing and flourishing their scalping Knives.
Take off their Sculls, and spare their Lives.
Chorus.
Or in their Country they’ll complain,
295
Nor ever dare return again;
Or if they should they’ll rue the Day,
And curse the Guide that shew’d the Way.
Chorus.
If Fortune smiles, we’ll not be long
Ere we return with Dance and Song,
300
But ah! if we should chance to die,
Dear Wives and Children do not cry.
Chorus.
Our Friends will ease your Grief and Woe,
By double Vengeance on the Foe;
Will kill, and scalp, and shed their Blood,
305
Where-e’er they find them thro’ the Wood.
Chorus.
No pointing Foe shall ever say
’Twas there the vanquish’d Indian lay;
Or boasting to his Friends relate
The Tale of our unhappy Fate.
310
Chorus.
Let us with Courage then away
To hunt and seize the frighted Prey;
Nor think of Children, Friend, or Wife,
While there’s an Englishman alive.
Chorus.
In Heat and Cold, thro’ Wet and Dry,
315
Will we pursue, and they shall fly
To Seas which they a Refuge think,
In there in wretched Crouds they’ll sink.
Chorus. Exeunt omnes singing.
The End of the Third ACT.
* * *
ACT IV.
SCENE I.
The Border of a Grove.
Enter Tenesco to Philip and Chekitan.
Tenesco.
The Troops are all assembled, some have march’d,
Perhaps are now engag’d, and warm in Battle;
The rest have Orders where to bend their Course.
Each Tribe is headed by a valiant Chief,
Except the Bulls which fall to one of you;118
5
The other stays to serve the State at home,
Or back us, should our Forces prove too weak.
Philip. The Bulls are brave, had they a brave Commander,
They’d push the Battle home with sure Success.
I’d chuse of all the Troops to be their Leader;
10
For tho’ I’d neither Courage, Skill, nor Strength,
Honour attends the Man who heads the Brave;
Many are dubb’d for Heroes in these Times,
Who owe their Fame to those whom they commanded.
Tenesco. But we shall ne’er suspect your Title false;
15
Already you’ve confirm’d your Fame and Courage,
And prov’d your Skill and Strength as Commander.
Philip. Still, I’ll endeavour to deserve your Praise,
Nor long delay the Honour you propose.
Chekitan. But this will interfere with your Design,
20
And oversets the Scheme of winning Hendrick.
Philip. Ah true—and kills your Hopes—This Man’s in Love.
[to Tenesco.
Tenesco. Indeed! In Love with whom? King Hendrick’s Daughter?
Philip. The same; and I’ve engag’d to win her Father.
Tenesco. This may induce him to espouse our Cause,
25
Which likewise you engag’d should be effected.
Philip. But then I can’t command as was propos’d
I must resign that Honour to this Lover,
While I conduct and form this double Treaty.
Tenesco. I am content if you but please yourselves
30
By Means and Ways not hurtful to the Public.
Chekitan. Was not the Public serv’d no private Ends
Would tempt me to detain him from the Field,
Or in his stead propose myself a Leader;
But every Power I have shall be exerted:
35
And if in Strength or Wisdom I should fail,
I dare presume you’ll ever find me faithful.
Tenesco. I doubt it not—You’ll not delay your Charge;
The Troops are all impatient for the Battle.
[Exeunt Tenesco and Philip.
Chekitan, solus.
This is not to my Mind—But I must to it—
40
If Philip heads the Troops, my Hopes are blown—
I must prepare, and leave the Event to Fate
And him—’Tis fix’d—There is no other Choice;
Monelia I must leave, and think of Battles—
She will be safe—But Oh the Chance of War—
45
Perhaps I fall—and never see her more—
This shocks my Soul in spite of Resolution—
The bare Perhaps is more than Daggers to me—
To part for ever! I’d rather stand against
Embattled Troops than meet this single Thought;
50
A Thought in Poison dipp’d and pointed round;
O how it pains my doubting trembling Heart!
I must not harbour it—My Word is gone—
My Honour calls—and, what is more, my Love.
[Noise of Monelia striving behind the Scene.
What Sound is that?—Is it Monelia’s Voice;
55
And in Distress—What Monster gives her Pain?
[Going towards the Sound, the Scene opens and discovers the Priest with her]
SCENE II.
Monelia and Priest.
What do I see? The holy Priest is with her.
Monelia. (struggling with the Priest, and trying to disengage herself)
No, I would sooner die than be dishonour’d—
Cut my own Throat, or drown me in the Lake.
Priest. Do you love Indians better than us white Men?
Monelia. Nay, should an Indian make the foul Attempt,
5
I’d murder him, or kill my wretched Self.119
Priest. I must, I can, and will enjoy you now.
Monelia. You must! You shan’t, you cruel barbarous Christian.
Chekitan. Hold, thou mad Tyger—What Attempt is this?
[Seizing him.
Are you a Christian Priest? What do you here?
10
[pushes him.
What was his Will, Monelia? He is dumb.
Monelia. May he be dumb and blind, and se
nseless quite,
That has such brutal Baseness in his Mind.
Chekitan. Base, false Deceiver, what could you intend?
[making towards him.
Monelia. Oh I am faint—You have preserv’d my Honour,
15
Which he, foul Christian, thirsted to destroy.
[Priest attempts to go.
Chekitan. Stay; leave your Life to expiate your Crime:
Your heated Blood shall pay for your Presumption.
[offering to strike him with a Hatchet.
Priest. Good Prince, forbear your pious Hand from Blood;
I did not know you was this Maiden’s Lover,
20
I took her for a Stranger, half your Foe.
Chekitan. Did you not know she was King Hendrick’s Daughter?
Did you not know that she was not your Wife?
Have you not told us, holy Men like you
Are by the Gods forbid all fleshly Converse?
25
Have you not told us, Death, and Fire, and Hell
Awaited those who are incontinent,120
Or dare to violate the Rites of Wedlock?121
That you God’s Mother liv’d and died a Virgin,
And thereby set Example to her Sex?
30
What means all of this? Say you such Things to us,
That you alone may revel in these Pleasures?
Priest. I have a Dispensation122 from St. Peter
To quench the Fire of Love when it grows painful.
This makes it innocent like Marriage Vows;
35
And all our holy Priests, and she herself,
Commits no Sin in this Relief of Nature:
For, being holy, there is no Pollution
Communicated from us as from others;
Nay, Maids are holy after we’ve enjoy’d them,
40
And, should the Seed take Root, the Fruit is pure.
Chekitan. Oh, vain Pretence! Falshood, and foul Deception!
None but a Christian could devise such Lies!
Did I not fear it might provoke your Gods,
Your Tongue should never frame Deceit again.
45
If there are Gods, and such as you have told us,
They must abhor all Baseness and Deceit,
And will not fail to punish Crimes like yours.
To them I leave you—But avoid my Presence,
Nor let me ever see your hated Head,
50
Or hear your lying Tongue within this Country.
Priest. Now by St. Peter123 I must go—He’s raging.
[aside.
Chekitan. That Day I do, by your great dreadful God,
This Hand shall cleave your Head, and spill your Blood,
Not all your Prayers, and Lyes, and Saints shall save you.
55
Priest. I’ve got his Father’s Secret, and will use it.
Such disappointment ought to be reveng’d.
[aside.
Chekitan. Don’t mutter here, and conjure up your Saints,
I value not their Curses, or your Prayers.
[stepping towards the Priest to hurry him.
Priest. By all the Saints, young Man, thou shalt repent it.
60
Monelia. Base, false Dissembler—Tyger, Snake, a Christian!
I hate the Sight; I fear the very Name.
O Prince, what has not your kind Presence sav’d me!
Chekitan. It sav’d to me more than my Father’s Empire;
Far more than Crowns and Worlds—It sav’d Monelia,
65
The Hope of whom is more than the Creation.
In this I feel the Triumphs of an Hero,
And glory more than if I’d conquer’d Kingdoms.
Monelia. O I am thine, I’m more than ever thine;
I am your Captive now, your lawful Prize:
70
You’ve taken me in War, a dreadful War!
And snatch’d me from the hungry Tyger’s Jaw.
More than my Life and Service is your Due,
And had I more I would devote it to you.
Chekitan. O my Monelia! rich is my Reward,
75
Had I lost Life itself in the Encounter;
But still I fear that Fate will snatch you from me,
Where is your Brother? Why was you alone?
Enter Torax, from listening to their Discourse.
Torax. Here am I: What would you of me?
Monelia. Torax!
I’ve been assaulted by a barbarous Man,
80
And by mere Accident escap’d my Ruin.
Torax. What Foe is here? The English are not come?
Monelia. No: But a Christian lurk’d within the Grove,
And every Christian is a Foe to Virtue;
Insidious, subtle, cruel, base, and false!
85
Like Snakes, their very Eyes are full of Poison;124
And where they are not, Innocence is safe.
Torax. The holy Priest! Is he so vile a Man?
I heard him mutter Threat’nings as I past him.
Chekitan. I spar’d his guilty Life, but drove him hence,
90
On Pain of Death and Tortures, never more
To tread the Earth, or breathe the Air with me.
Be warn’d by this to better tend your Charge.
You see how Mischiefs lye conceal’d about us,
We tread on Serpents ere we hear them hiss,
95
And Tygers lurk to seize the incautious Prey.
I must this Hour lead forth my Troops to Battle,
They’re now in Arms, and waiting my Command.
Monelia. What Safety shall I have when you are gone?
I must not, cannot, will not longer tarry,
100
Lest other Christians, or some other Foe,
Attempt my Ruin.
Chekitan. Torax will be your Guard.
My Honour suffers, should I now decline;
It is my Country’s Cause; I’ve pawn’d my Word,
105
Prevented Philip, to make sure of you.
He stays. ’Tis all in favour to our Love:
We must at present please ourselves with Hopes.
Monelia. Oh! my fond Heart no more conceals its Flame;
I fear, my Prince, I fear our Fates are cruel:
110
There’s something whispers in my anxious Breast,
That if you go, I ne’er shall see you more.
Chekitan. Oh! how her Words unman and melt my Soul!
As if her Fears were Prophecies of Fate. [aside.
I will not go and leave you thus in Fears;
115
I’ll frame Excuses—Philip shall command—
I’ll find some other Means to turn the King;
I’ll venture Honour, Fortune, Life, and Love,
Rather than trust you from my Sight again.
For what avails all that the World can give?
120
If you’re with-held, all other Gifts are Curses,
And Fame and Fortune serve to make me wretched.
Monelia. Now you grow wild—You must not think of staying;
Our only Hope, you know, depends on Philip.
I will not fear, but hope for his Success,
125
And your Return with Victory and Triumph,
That Love and Honour both may crown our Joy.
Chekitan. Now this is kind; I am myself again.
You had unman’d and soften’d all my Soul,
Disarm’d my Hand, and cowardiz’d my Heart:
130
But now in every Vein I feel an Hero,
Defy the thickest Tempest of the War:
Yes, like a Lion conscious of his Strength,
Fearless of Death I’ll rush into the Battle;
I’ll fight, I’ll conquer, triumph
and return;
135
Laurels125 I’ll gain, and lay them at your Feet.
Monelia. May the Success attend you that you wish!
May our whole Scheme of Happiness Succeed!
May our next Meeting put an End to Fear,
And Fortune shine upon us in full Blaze!
140
Chekitan. May Fate preserve you as her Darling Charge!
May all the Gods and Goddesses, and Saints,
If conscious of our Love, turn your Protectors!
And the great thundering God with Lightning burn
Him that but means to interrupt your Peace.
[Exeunt. 145
SCENE III.
Indian Senate-House.
Ponteach and Philip.
Ponteach.
Say you that Torax then is fond of War?
Philip. He is, and waits impatient my Return.
Ponteach. ’Tis friendly in you thus to help your Brother;
But I suspect his Courage in the Field;
A love-sick Boy makes but a cow’rdly Captain.
5
Philip. His Love my spur him on with greater Courage;
He thinks he’s fighting for a double Prize;
And but for this, and Hopes of greater Service
In forwarding the Treaty with the Mohawk,
I now had been in Arms and warm in Battle.
10
Ponteach. I much commend the Wisdom of your Stay.
Prepare yourself, and hasten to his Quarters;
You cannot make th’Attempt with too much Speed.
Urge ev’ry Argument with Force upon him,
Urge my strong Friendship, urge your Brother’s Love,
15
His Daughter’s Happiness, the common Good;
The general Sense of all the Indian Chiefs,
The Baseness of our Foes, our Hope of Conquest;
The Richness of the Plunder if we speed;
That we’ll divide and share it as he pleases;
20
That our Success is certain if he joins us.
Urge these, and what besides to you occurs;
All cannot fail, I think, to change his Purpose.
Philip. You’d think so more if you knew all my Plan.
[aside.
I’m all prepar’d now I’ve receiv’d your Orders,
25
But first must speak t’ his Children ere I part,
I am to meet them in the further Grove.
Ponteach. Hark! there’s a Shout—We’ve News of some Success;
It is the Noise of Victory and Triumph.126
Enter a Messenger.
Huzza! for our brave Warriors are return’d
30
Loaded with Plunder and the Scalps of Christians.
Enter Warrior.
Ponteach. What have you done? Why all this Noise and Shouting?
Ponteach, or the Savages of America Page 14