diff options
Diffstat (limited to '29223-8.txt')
| -rw-r--r-- | 29223-8.txt | 5049 |
1 files changed, 5049 insertions, 0 deletions
diff --git a/29223-8.txt b/29223-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..784f23b --- /dev/null +++ b/29223-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,5049 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Ponteach, by Robert Rogers + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Ponteach + The Savages of America + +Author: Robert Rogers + +Editor: Montrose J. Moses + +Release Date: June 26, 2009 [EBook #29223] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PONTEACH *** + + + + +Produced by David Starner, Brownfox and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + +TRANSCRIBERS' NOTES + +This e-book contains the text of _Ponteach_, extracted from Representative +Plays by American Dramatists: Vol 1, 1765-1819. Comments and background +to all the plays and the other plays are available at Project Gutenberg. + +Spelling as in the original has been preserved. + + + + +PONTEACH + + +_By_ ROBERT ROGERS + +[Illustration: MAJOR ROBERT ROGERS] + + + + +MAJOR ROBERT ROGERS +(1727-1795) + + +Robert Rogers, a soldier of fortune, is the _Davy Crockett_ of +Colonial times. Born at Dumbarton, New Hampshire, on November 17th +(some authorities say 1730, another 1731, while the _Dictionary of +National Biography_ says 1727), he was the son of James Rogers, a +farmer living in a frontier cabin at Methuen, in upper Massachusetts. + +Robert's boyhood was spent in an atmosphere characteristic of pioneer +life. He had scarcely passed his fifteenth year (Nevins claims in +1746), when he helped withstand an attack of Indians near his home, +and this may be considered his first active experience with the Red +Man. From this time on, the history of the career of Robert Rogers is +the history of the efforts of the Colonists against the Indians as far +west as Detroit, and as far south as South Carolina. The necessity +which confronted all of the Colonists made of young Rogers one of the +most expert hunters of the period, and in this connection he was +associated with the famous John Stark, of Green Mountain Boys +reputation. In the latter's Memoir, written by Caleb Stark, we have as +graphic a pen-picture of Rogers, the hunter, at twenty-two, as we have +actual likenesses of Rogers in the pictures of the time.[1] + +Evidently Rogers flourished financially at this period, for we find +him buying land in Massachusetts in 1753. His activity as a soldier in +the French and Indian War put him in command of a company, known as +"Rogers' Rangers," and he participated in the Siege of Detroit against +Pontiac and the French. This experience of his must have fired Rogers +with the desire, after careful consideration of the condition of the +Indian, to put his special plea for the cause of the Red Man in some +permanent literary form, for "Ponteach" was published in 1766, after +Rogers had left America, had gone to London, and thence had taken +vessel for Algiers, where he fought under Dey. + +By 1761, Rogers had so far advanced in worldly standing that he could +afford to turn his attention to family affairs. We find him visiting +Portsmouth, New Hampshire, where Elizabeth, daughter of the Reverend +Arthur Browne, lived. The two were married on June 30th of that year; +but evidently there was about Robert Rogers something his +father-in-law did not quite relish. For, in 1763, a dispute arose +between the two, because of Rogers' increasing dissipation. That they +did not reach, however, any immediate open rupture, may have been due +very largely to the fact that Rogers was becoming quite a land-owner +in New York and New Hampshire. It was not until March 4, 1778, after +Rogers had gone through many and varied experiences, not the least of +which was serving a term in the Debtors' Prison in England, that his +wife was granted, by the New Hampshire Legislature, a decree of +divorce. She thereupon married Captain John Poach. + +Naturally, most of the interest attached to Rogers is historical, not +literary. His career in the French and Indian War, outlined by him in +his "Journal of the French and Indian War," which was published in +London in 1765; his activity in the Cherokee War in South Carolina;[2] +his association with William Bird, when he had an opportunity of +studying the methods of Indian guides; his political ambitions when he +returned to England in 1765--all of these are matters for the +historian, and have received adequate consideration by Francis Parkman +and other writers. During these activities, Rogers was not idle with +his pen. He kept his Journals, and they clearly reveal how much of a +ranger he was. After the fashion of the times, when he returned to +England, anxious to let his friends know of the conditions in America, +he not only published his Journals (1769), but also a concise account +of North America (1770). But there must have been something about +Rogers as a soldier of fortune that was not as straight or as honest +as _Davy Crockett_. We find him, for example, entrusted with the post +of Governor of Mackinac, and conducting affairs so illy that he was +tried for treason. He may have advanced as a soldier through the +successive ranks to Major, but it would seem that the higher up he +advanced in position the more unscrupulous he became. + +After serving his term in the Debtors' Prison, which began on June 14, +1773, he returned to America, at the beginning of the Revolution. +Among his Colonial friends, he not only counted John Stark, the +ranger, but Israel Putnam as well, both of them ardent patriots and +upholders of the American cause. It would seem, in 1775, that Rogers, +to all outward appearance, was himself in sympathy with America. He +professed being the staunch lover of those principles which America +was upholding. But General Washington soon had cause to doubt his +loyalty, and he was watched. With the result that his arrest was +ordered, and thereupon he confessed his adherence to the Crown. Rogers +then joined the forces of General Howe, bringing with him an +invaluable knowledge of the land in New York and New Jersey, and +adjacent territory. He was put in command of a company, known as the +"Queen's Rangers," and throughout the Revolution fought bravely on the +opposing side. After returning to England, he battled for further +recognition, but never received the full honours he courted. He died +on May 18, 1795, in South London. + +"Ponteach" was probably never given in Rogers's time. There is no +record of its even having been considered by any of the theatrical +companies. It was published in 1766, with a London imprint on the +title-page.[3] There is some slight probability that it was given an +amateur production at Lake George by the summer residents +there--certainly an appropriate spot to present a play by Rogers, +inasmuch as the Ranger was known in that neighbourhood, and there is +now familiar to all visitors a place called "Rogers's Slide," marking +one of his escapades with the Indians. + +In the present collection, the editor has followed the text of the +1766 edition, fully realizing the consistent changes made by Mr. Allan +Nevins in his edition of the play which, with an Introduction, +Biography, and invaluable historical notes, was published in 1914 by +the Caxton Club of Chicago.[4] + +This piece is one which is not only interesting as representative of +the early type of Indian drama in America, but it is also interesting +as reflective of the attitude of a dramatist with a problem to +propound. "Ponteach" is our first American problem play. Parkman +claims that at least part of it was written by Rogers, thus throwing +doubt on his entire claim to authorship. There is not only a dignity +displayed in the drawing of the main character of the Indian, but +there is a very naïve attempt at subtle humour in the characters of +the Englishmen. There is no distinct excellence in depicting Indian +character as such, after the romantic manner of Cooper, although +Rogers, with his English tradition, has been able to lend to his +dialogue a certain dignity of diction which is striking, and which +gives the play a decided literary value. Taken, however, as an +historical document--and Mr. Nevins does this--one can trace in +"Ponteach" the whole range of Rogers's experience as an Indian +fighter. There are constant allusions in the text to matters which Mr. +Nevins has found necessary to explain in copious footnotes, and +therefore to the student I would recommend this single edition of the +play. "Ponteach" is published here, not from a scholarly standpoint, +but simply as an example of early Indian drama. + +Of these Indian dramas, there are many examples in the early history +of American playwriting. Laurence Hutton has an entertaining chapter +on the subject in his "Curiosities of the American Stage," in which he +enumerates such titles as "Oroloosa," "Oroonoka," "Miautoumah," to say +nothing of "Hiawatha." "Metamora; or, The Last of the Wampanoags" was +brought to success through the powerful acting of Edwin Forrest, +December 15, 1829. William Wheatley, of the Park Theatre, was likewise +famed for his Indian impersonations. Among other more or less +well-known plays of the species, enumerated by Wegelin, are: + +F. DEFFENBACH. "Onliata; or, The Indian Heroine." Philadelphia. 1821. + +JOSEPH DODDRIDGE. "Logan: The Last of the Race of Skikellemus, Chief +of the Cayuga Nation." Buffalo Creek, Brooke Co., Va. 1823. + +G. W. P. CUSTIS. "The Indian Prophecy." A National Drama in Two Acts, +founded on a most interesting and romantic occurrence in the life of +General Washington. Georgetown. 1828. + +NATHANIEL DEERING. "Carrabasset; or, The Last of the Norridgewocks." A +Tragedy in Five Acts. Portland. 1830. + +W. H. C. HOSMER. "The Fall of Tecumseh." Avon. 1830. + + +FOOTNOTES: + +[1] These pictures were struck off on October 1, 1776. See Smith's +"British Mezzotint Portraits." + +[2] See the South Carolina _Gazette_ files for 1760, 1761. + +[3] Ponteach:/or the/Savages of America,/A/Tragedy/[Major Robert +Rogers.] London:/Printed for the Author; and Sold by J. +Millan,/opposite the Admiralty, Whitehall./M.DCC.LXVI./[Price 2s. 6d.] + +[4] Ponteach/or the/Savages of America/A Tragedy/By Robert Rogers/With +an Introduction/and a Biography of the Author/By Allan Nevins/Chicago/ +The Caxton Club/1914/ + + + + +[Illustration: PONTEACH: + +OR THE + +Savages of America. + + +A + +TRAGEDY. + + +LONDON: Printed for the Author; and Sold by J. MILLAN, opposite the +_Admiralty, Whitehall_. + +M.DCC.LXVI. + +[Price 2s. 6d.] + + +FAC-SIMILE TITLE-PAGE OF THE FIRST EDITION] + + + + +DRAMATIS PERSONÆ + + +PONTEACH, Indian Emperor on the Great Lakes. + +PHILIP _and_ CHEKITAN, Sons of Ponteach. + +TENESCO, His chief Counsellor and Generalissimo. + +ASTINACO, } +THE BEAR, } Indian Kings who join with Ponteach. +THE WOLF, } + +TORAX _and_ } Son and Daughter to Hendrick, Emperor +MONELIA } of the Mohawks. + +INDIAN Conjurer. + +FRENCH Priest. + +SHARP, } +GRIPE, } Three English Governors. +CATCHUM, } + +Colonel COCKUM, } Commanders at a Garrison in Ponteach's +Captain FRISK, } Country. + +M'DOLE _and_ } Two Indian Traders. +MURPHEY, } + +HONNYMAN _and_ } Two English Hunters. +ORSBOURN, } + +Mrs. HONNYMAN, Wife to Honnyman, the Hunter. + + Warriors, Messengers, &c. + + + + +PONTEACH: OR THE SAVAGES OF AMERICA + + + + +ACT I. + + +SCENE I. _An Indian Trading House._ + +_Enter M'DOLE and MURPHEY, two Indian Traders, and their Servants._ + +M'DOLE. + +So, Murphey, you are come to try your Fortune +Among the Savages in this wild Desart? + +MURPHEY. + +Ay, any Thing to get an honest Living, +Which 'faith I find it hard enough to do; +Times are so dull, and Traders are so plenty, +That Gains are small, and Profits come but slow. + +M'DOLE. + +Are you experienc'd in this kind of Trade? +Know you the Principles by which it prospers, +And how to make it lucrative and safe? +If not, you're like a Ship without a Rudder, +That drives at random, and must surely sink. + +MURPHEY. + +I'm unacquainted with your Indian Commerce, +And gladly would I learn the Arts from you, +Who're old, and practis'd in them many Years. + +M'DOLE. + +That is the curst Misfortune of our Traders, +A thousand Fools attempt to live this Way, +Who might as well turn Ministers of State. +But, as you are a Friend, I will inform you +Of all the secret Arts by which we thrive, +Which if all practis'd, we might all grow rich, +Nor circumvent each other in our Gains. +What have you got to part with to the Indians? + +MURPHEY. + +I've Rum and Blankets, Wampum, Powder, Bells, +And such-like Trifles as they're wont to prize. + +M'DOLE. + +'Tis very well: your Articles are good: +But now the Thing's to make a Profit from them, +Worth all your Toil and Pains of coming hither. +Our fundamental Maxim is this, +That it's no Crime to cheat and gull an Indian. + +MURPHEY. + +How! Not a Sin to cheat an Indian, say you? +Are they not Men? hav'n't they a Right to Justice +As well as we, though savage in their Manners? + +M'DOLE. + +Ah! If you boggle here, I say no more; +This is the very Quintessence of Trade, +And ev'ry Hope of Gain depends upon it; +None who neglect it ever did grow rich, +Or ever will, or can by Indian Commerce. +By this old Ogden built his stately House, +Purchas'd Estates, and grew a little King. +He, like an honest Man, bought all by Weight, +And made the ign'rant Savages believe +That his Right Foot exactly weigh'd a Pound: +By this for many Years he bought their Furs, +And died in Quiet like an honest Dealer. + +MURPHEY. + +Well, I'll not stick at what is necessary: +But his Device is now grown old and stale, +Nor could I manage such a barefac'd Fraud. + +M'DOLE. + +A thousand Opportunities present +To take Advantage of their Ignorance; +But the great Engine I employ is Rum, +More pow'rful made by certain strength'ning Drugs. +This I distribute with a lib'ral Hand, +Urge them to drink till they grow mad and valiant; +Which makes them think me generous and just, +And gives full Scope to practise all my Art. +I then begin my Trade with water'd Rum, +The cooling Draught well suits their scorching Throats. +Their Fur and Peltry come in quick Return: +My Scales are honest, but so well contriv'd, +That one small Slip will turn Three Pounds to One; +Which they, poor silly Souls! ignorant of Weights +And Rules of Balancing, do not perceive. +But here they come; you'll see how I proceed. +Jack, is the Rum prepar'd as I commanded? + +JACK. + +Yes, sir, all's ready when you please to call. + +M'DOLE. + +Bring here the Scales and Weights immediately. +You see the Trick is easy and conceal'd. + [_Shewing how to slip the scales._ + +MURPHEY. + +By Jupiter, it's artfully contriv'd; +And was I King, I swear I'd knight th' Inventor. +--Tom, mind the Part that you will have to act. + +TOM. + +Ah, never fear, I'll do as well as Jack. +But then, you know, an honest Servant's Pains +Deserve Reward. + +MURPHEY. + +O! I'll take care of that. + +_Enter a number of INDIANS with packs of fur._ + +1ST INDIAN. + +So, what you trade with Indians here to-day? + +M'DOLE. + +Yes, if my Goods will suit, and we agree. + +2ND INDIAN. + +'Tis Rum we want, we're tired, hot, and thirsty. + +3RD INDIAN. + +You, Mr. Englishman, have you got Rum? + +M'DOLE. + +Jack, bring a Bottle, pour them each a Gill. +You know which Cask contains the Rum. The Rum? + +1ST INDIAN. + +It's good strong Rum, I feel it very soon. + +M'DOLE. + +Give me a Glass. Here's Honesty in Trade; +We English always drink before we deal. + +2ND INDIAN. + +Good Way enough; it makes one sharp and cunning. + +M'DOLE. + +Hand round another Gill. You're very welcome. + +3RD INDIAN. + +Some say you Englishmen are sometimes Rogues; +You make poor Indians drunk, and then you cheat. + +1ST INDIAN. + +No, English good. The Frenchmen give no Rum. + +2ND INDIAN. + +I think it's best to trade with Englishmen. + +M'DOLE. + +What is your Price for Beaver Skins per Pound? + +1ST INDIAN. + +How much you ask per Quart for this strong Rum? + +M'DOLE. + +Five Pounds of Beaver for One Quart of Rum. + +1ST INDIAN. + +Five Pounds? Too much. Which is 't you call Five Pound? + +M'DOLE. + +This little Weight. I cannot give you more. + +1ST INDIAN. + +Well, take 'em; weigh 'em. Don't you cheat us now. + +M'DOLE. + +No: He that cheats an Indian should be hang'd. [_Weighing the packs._ +There's Thirty Pounds precisely of the Whole; +Five times Six is Thirty. Six Quarts of Rum. +Jack, measure it to them: you know the Cask. +This Rum is sold. You draw it off the best. + [_Exeunt INDIANS to receive their rum._ + +MURPHEY. + +By Jove, you've gain'd more in a single Hour +Than ever I have done in Half a Year; +Curse on my Honesty! I might have been +A little King, and liv'd without Concern, +Had I but known the proper Arts to thrive. + +M'DOLE. + +Ay, there's the Way, my honest Friend, to live. + [_Clapping his shoulder._ +There's Ninety Weight of Sterling Beaver for you, +Worth all the Rum and Trinkets in my Store; +And, would my Conscience let me to the Thing, +I might enhance my Price, and lessen theirs, +And raise my Profits to an higher Pitch. + +MURPHEY. + +I can't but thank you for your kind Instructions, +As from them I expect to reap Advantage. +But should the Dogs detect me in the Fraud, +They are malicious, and would have Revenge. + +M'DOLE. + +Can't you avoid them? Let their Vengeance light +On others' Heads, no matter whose, if you +Are but secure, and have the Cain in Hand: +For they're indiff'rent where they take Revenge, +Whether on him that cheated, or his Friend, +Or on a Stranger whom they never saw, +Perhaps an honest Peasant, who ne'er dreamt +Of Fraud or Villainy in all his life; +Such let them murder, if they will a Score, +The Guilt is theirs, while we secure the Gain, +Nor shall we feel the bleeding Victims Pain. [_Exeunt._ + + +SCENE II. _A Desart._ + +_Enter ORSBOURN and HONNYMAN, two English Hunters._ + +ORSBOURN. + +Long have we toil'd, and rang'd the Woods in vain, +No Game, nor Track, nor Sign of any Kind +Is to be seen; I swear I am discourag'd +And weary'd out with this long fruitless Hunt. +No Life on Earth besides is half so hard, +So full of Disappointments, as a Hunter's: +Each Morn he wakes he views the destin'd Prey, +And counts the Profits of th' ensuing Day; +Each Ev'ning at his curs'd ill Fortune pines, +And till next Day his Hope of Gain resigns. +By Jove, I'll from these Desarts hasten home, +And swear that never more I'll touch a Gun. + +HONNYMAN. + +These hateful Indians kidnap all the Game. +Curse their black Heads! they fright the Deer and Bear, +And ev'ry Animal that haunts the Wood, +Or by their Witchcraft conjure them away. +No Englishman can get a single Shot, +While they go loaded home with Skins and Furs. +'Twere to be wish'd not one of them survived, +Thus to infest the World, and plague Mankind. +Curs'd Heathen Infidels! mere savage Beasts! +They don't deserve to breathe in Christian Air, +And should be hunted down like other Brutes. + +ORSBOURN. + +I only wish the Laws permitted us +To hunt the savage Herd where e'er they're found; +I'd never leave the Trade of Hunting then, +While one remain'd to tread and range the Wood. + +HONNYMAN. + +Curse on the Law, I say, that makes it Death +To kill an Indian, more than to kill a Snake. +What if 'tis Peace? these Dogs deserve no Mercy; +Cursed revengeful, cruel, faithless Devils! +They kill'd my Father and my eldest Brother. +Since which I hate their very Looks and Name. + +ORSBOURN. + +And I, since they betray'd and kill'd my Uncle; +Hell seize their cruel, unrelenting Souls! +Tho' these are not the same, 'twould ease my Heart +To cleave their painted Heads, and spill their Blood. +I abhor, detest, and hate them all, +And now cou'd eat an Indian's Heart with Pleasure. + +HONNYMAN. + +I'd join you, and soop his savage Brains for Sauce; +I lose all Patience when I think of them, +And, if you will, we'll quickly have Amends +For our long Travel and successless Hunt, +And the sweet Pleasure of Revenge to boot. + +ORSBOURN. + +What will you do? Present, and pop one down? + +HONNYMAN. + +Yes, faith, the first we meet well fraught with Furs; +Or if there's Two, and we can make sure Work, +By Jove, we'll ease the Rascals of their Packs, +And send them empty home to their own Country. +But then observe, that what we do is secret, +Or the Hangman will come in for Snacks. + +ORSBOURN. + +Trust me for that; I'll join with all my Heart; +Nor with a nicer Aim, or steadier Hand, +Would shoot a Tyger than I would an Indian. +There is a Couple stalking now this Way +With lusty Packs; Heav'n favour our Design. + +HONNYMAN. + +Silence; conceal yourself, and mind your Eye. + +ORSBOURN. + +Are you well charg'd? + +HONNYMAN. + +I am. Take you the nearest, +And mind to fire exactly when I do. + +ORSBOURN. + +A charming Chance! + +HONNYMAN. + +Hush, let them still come nearer. + [_They shoot, and run to rifle the INDIANS._ +They're down, old Boy, a Brace of noble Bucks! + +ORSBOURN. + +Well tallow'd, faith, and noble Hides upon 'em. [_Taking up a pack._ +We might have hunted all the Season thro' +For Half this Game, and thought ourselves well paid. + +HONNYMAN. + +By Jove, we might, and been at great Expence +For Lead and Powder, here's a single Shot. + +ORSBOURN. + +I swear I've got as much as I can carry. + +HONNYMAN. + +And faith I'm not behind; this Pack is heavy. +But stop; we must conceal the tawny Dogs, +Or their blood-thirsty Countrymen will find them, +And then we're bit. There'll be the Devil to pay, +They'll murder us, and cheat the Hangman too. + +ORSBOURN. + +Right. We'll prevent all Mischief of this Kind. +Where shall we hide their savage Carcases? + +HONNYMAN. + +There they will lie conceal'd and snug enough-- [_They cover them._ +But stay--perhaps ere long there'll be a War, +And then their Scalps will sell for ready Cash +Two Hundred Crowns at least, and that's worth saving. + +ORSBOURN. + +Well! that is true, no sooner said than done-- [_Drawing his knife._ +I'll strip this Fellow's painted greasy Skull. + [_Strips off the scalp._ + +HONNYMAN. + +A damn'd tough Hide, or my Knife's devilish dull-- + [_Takes the other scalp._ +Now let them sleep to-night without their Caps, +And pleasant Dreams attend their long Repose. + +ORSBOURN. + +Their Guns and Hatchets now are lawful Prize, +For they'll not need them on their present Journey. + +HONNYMAN. + +The Devil hates Arms, and dreads the Smell of Powder; +He'll not allow such Instruments about him, +They're free from training now, they're in his Clutches. + +ORSBOURN. + +But, Honnyman, d'ye think this is not Murder? +I vow I'm shock'd a little to see them scalp'd, +And fear their Ghosts will haunt us in the Dark. + +HONNYMAN. + +It's no more Murder than to crack a Louse, +That is, if you've the Wit to keep it private. +And as to Haunting, Indians have no Ghosts, +But as they live like Beasts, like Beasts they die. +I've kill'd a Dozen in this self-same Way, +And never yet was troubled with their Spirits. + +ORSBOURN. + +Then I'm content; my Scruples are remov'd. +And what I've done, my Conscience justifies. +But we must have these Guns and Hatchets alter'd, +Or they'll detect th' Affair, and hang us both. + +HONNYMAN. + +That's quickly done--Let us with Speed return, +And think no more of being hang'd or haunted; +But turn our Fur to Gold, our Gold to Wine, +Thus gaily spend what we've so slily won, +And bless the first Inventor of a Gun. [_Exeunt._ + + +SCENE III. _An English Fort._ + +_Enter Colonel COCKUM and Captain FRISK._ + +COCKUM. + +What shall we do with these damn'd bawling Indians? +They're swarming every Day with their Complaints +Of Wrongs and Injuries, and God knows what-- +I wish the Devil would take them to himself. + +FRISK. + +Your Honour's right to wish the Devil his Due. +I'd send the noisy Hellhounds packing hence, +Nor spend a Moment in debating with them. +The more you give Attention to their Murmurs, +The more they'll plague and haunt you every Day, +Besides, their old King Ponteach grows damn'd saucy, +Talks of his Power, and threatens what he'll do. +Perdition to their faithless sooty Souls, +I'd let 'em know at once to keep their Distance. + +COCKUM. + +Captain, You're right; their Insolence is such +As beats my Patience; cursed Miscreants! +They are encroaching; fain would be familiar: +I'll send their painted Heads to Hell with Thunder! +I swear I'll blow 'em hence with Cannon Ball, +And give the Devil an Hundred for his Supper. + +FRISK. + +They're coming here; you see they scent your Track, +And while you'll listen, they will ne'er be silent, +But every Day improve in Insolence. + +COCKUM. + +I'll soon dispatch and storm them from my Presence. + +_Enter PONTEACH, and other Indian CHIEFS._ + +PONTEACH. + +Well, Mr. Colonel Cockum, what d' they call you? +You give no Answer yet to my Complaint; +Your Men give my Men always too much Rum, +Then trade and cheat 'em. What! d' ye think this right? + +COCKUM. + +Tush! Silence! hold your noisy cursed Nonsense; +I've heard enough of it; what is it to me? + +PONTEACH. + +What! you a Colonel, and not command your Men? +Let ev'ry one be a Rogue that has a Mind to 't. + +COCKUM. + +Why, curse your Men, I suppose they wanted Rum; +They'll rarely be content, I know, without it. + +PONTEACH. + +What then? If Indians are such Fools, I think +White Men like you should stop and teach them better. + +COCKUM. + +I'm not a Pedagogue to your curs'd Indians. [_Aside._ + +PONTEACH. + +Colonel, I hope that you'll consider this. + +FRISK. + +Why, don't you see the Colonel will not hear you? +You'd better go and watch your Men yourself, +Nor plague us with your cursed endless Noise; +We've something else to do of more Importance. + +PONTEACH. + +Hah! Captain Frisk, what! you a great man too? +My Bus'ness here is only with your Colonel; +And I'll be heard, or know the Reason why. + +1ST CHIEF. + +I thought the English had been better Men. + +2ND CHIEF. + +Frenchmen would always hear an Indian speak, +And answer fair, and make good Promises. + +COCKUM. + +You may be d----d, and all your Frenchmen too. + +PONTEACH. + +Be d----d! what's that? I do not understand. + +COCKUM. + +The Devil teach you; he'll do it without a Fee. + +PONTEACH. + +The Devil teach! I think you one great Fool. +Did your King tell you thus to treat the Indians? +Had he been such a Dunce he ne'er had conquer'd, +And made the running French for Quarter cry. +I always mind that such proud Fools are Cowards, +And never do aught that is great or good. + +COCKUM. + +Forbear your Impudence, you curs'd old Thief; +This Moment leave my Fort, and to your Country. +Let me hear no more of your hellish Clamour, +Or to D----n I will blow you all, +And feast the Devil with one hearty Meal. + +PONTEACH. + +So ho! Know you whose Country you are in? +Think you, because you have subdu'd the French, +That Indians too are now become your Slaves? +This Country's mine, and here I reign as King; +I value not your Threats, nor Forts, nor Guns; +I have got Warriors, Courage, Strength, and Skill. +Colonel, take care; the Wound is very deep, +Consider well, for it is hard to cure. [_Exeunt INDIANS._ + +FRISK. + +Vile Infidels! observe their Insolence; +Old Ponteach puts on a mighty Air. + +COCKUM. + +They'll always be a Torment till destroy'd, +And sent all headlong to the Devil's Kitchen. +This curs'd old Thief, no doubt, will give us Trouble, +Provok'd and madded at his cool Reception. + +FRISK. + +Oh! Colonel, they are never worth our minding, +What can they do against our Bombs and Cannon? +True, they may skulk, and kill and scalp a few, +But, Heav'n be thank'd, we're safe within these Walls: +Besides, I think the Governors are coming, +To make them Presents, and establish Peace. + +COCKUM. + +That may perhaps appease their bloody Minds, +And keep them quiet for some little Term. +God send the Day that puts them all to sleep, +Come, will you crack a Bottle at my Tent? + +FRISK. + +With all my Heart, and drink D----n to them. + +COCKUM. + +I can in nothing more sincerely join. [_Exeunt._ + + +SCENE IV. _An Apartment in the Fort._ + +_Enter Governors SHARP, GRIPE, and CATCHUM._ + +SHARP. + +Here are we met to represent our King, +And by his royal Bounties to conciliate +These Indians' Minds to Friendship, Peace, and Love. +But he that would an honest Living get +In Times so hard and difficult as these, +Must mind that good old Rule, Take care of One. + +GRIPE. + +Ay, Christian Charity begins at home; +I think it's in the Bible, I know I've read it. + +CATCHUM. + +I join with Paul, that he's an Infidel +Who does not for himself and Friends provide. + +SHARP. + +Yes, Paul in fact was no bad Politician, +And understood himself as well as most. +All good and wise Men certainly take care +To help themselves and Families the first; +Thus dictates Nature, Instinct, and Religion, +Whose easy Precepts ought to be obey'd. + +GRIPE. + +But how does this affect our present Purpose? +We've heard the Doctrine; what's the Application? + +SHARP. + +We are intrusted with these Indian Presents. +A Thousand Pound was granted by the King, +To satisfy them of his Royal Goodness, +His constant Disposition to their Welfare, +And reconcile their savage Minds to Peace. +Five hundred's gone; you know our late Division, +Our great Expence, _Et cetera_, no Matter: +The other Half was laid out for these Goods, +To be distributed as we think proper; +And whether Half (I only put the Question) +Of these said Goods, won't answer every End, +And bring about as long a lasting Peace +As tho' the Whole were lavishly bestow'd? + +CATCHUM. + +I'm clear upon 't they will, if we affirm +That Half's the Whole was sent them by the King. + +GRIPE. + +There is no doubt but that One Third wou'd answer, +For they, poor Souls! are ign'rant of the Worth +Of single Things, nor know they how to add +Or calculate, and cast the whole Amount. + +SHARP. + +Why, Want of Learning is a great Misfortune. +How thankful should we be that we have Schools, +And better taught and bred than these poor Heathen. + +CATCHUM. + +Yes, only these Two simple easy Rules, +Addition and Subtraction, are great Helps, +And much contribute to our happiness. + +SHARP. + +'Tis these I mean to put in Practice now; +Subtraction from these Royal Presents makes +Addition to our Gains without a Fraction. +But let us overhaul and take the best, +Things may be given that won't do to sell. + [_They overhaul the goods, &c._ + +CATCHUM. + +Lay these aside; they'll fetch a noble Price. + +GRIPE. + +And these are very saleable, I think. + +SHARP. + +The Indians will be very fond of these. +Is there the Half, think you? + +GRIPE. + +It's thereabouts. + +CATCHUM. + +This bag of Wampum may be added yet. + +SHARP. + +Here, Lads, convey these Goods to our Apartment. + +SERVANT. + +The Indians, sir, are waiting at the Gate. + +GRIPE. + +Conduct them in when you've disposed of these. + +CATCHUM. + +This should have been new-drawn before they enter'd. + [_Pulling out an inventory of the whole goods._ + +GRIPE. + +What matters that? They cannot read, you know, +And you can read to them in gen'ral Terms. + +_Enter PONTEACH, with several of his Chieftains._ + +SHARP. + +Welcome, my Brothers, we are glad to meet you, +And hope that you will not repent our coming. + +PONTEACH. + +We're glad to see our Brothers here the English. +If honourable Peace be your Desire, +We'd always have the Hatchet buried deep, +While Sun and Moon, Rivers and Lakes endure, +And Trees and Herbs within our Country grow. +But then you must not cheat and wrong the Indians, +Or treat us with Reproach, Contempt, and Scorn; +Else we will raise the Hatchet to the Sky, +And let it never touch the Earth again, +Sharpen its Edge, and keep it bright as Silver, +Or stain it red with Murder and with Blood. +Mind what I say, I do not tell you Lies. + +SHARP. + +We hope you have no Reason to complain +That Englishmen conduct to you amiss; +We're griev'd if they have given you Offence, +And fain would heal the Wound while it is fresh, +Lest it should spread, grow painful, and severe. + +PONTEACH. + +Your Men make Indians drunk, and then they cheat 'em. +Your Officers, your Colonels, and your Captains +Are proud, morose, ill-natur'd, churlish Men, +Treat us with Disrespect, Contempt, and Scorn. +I tell you plainly this will never do, +We never thus were treated by the French, +Them we thought bad enough, but think you worse. + +SHARP. + +There's good and bad, you know, in every Nation; +There's some good Indians, some are the reverse, +Whom you can't govern, and restrain from ill; +So there's some Englishmen that will be bad. +You must not mind the Conduct of a few, +Nor judge the rest by what you see of them. + +PONTEACH. + +If you've some good, why don't you send them here? +These every one are Rogues, and Knaves, and Fools, +And think no more of Indians than of Dogs. +Your King had better send his good Men hither, +And keep his bad ones in some other Country; +Then you would find that Indians would do well, +Be peaceable, and honest in their Trade; +We'd love you, treat you, as our Friends and Brothers, +And Raise the Hatchet only in your Cause. + +SHARP. + +Our King is very anxious for your Welfare, +And greatly wishes for your Love and Friendship; +He would not have the Hatchet ever raised, +But buried deep, stamp'd down and cover'd o'er, +As with a Mountain that can never move: +For this he sent us to your distant Country, +Bid us deliver you these friendly Belts, + [_Holding out belts of wampum._ +All cover'd over with his Love and Kindness. +He like a Father loves you as his Children; +And like a Brother wishes you all Good; +We'll let him know the Wounds that you complain of, +And he'll be speedy to apply the Cure, +And clear the Path to Friendship, Peace, and Trade. + +PONTEACH. + +Your King, I hear 's a good and upright Man, +True to his word, and friendly in his Heart; +Not proud and insolent, morose and sour, +Like these his petty Officers and Servants: +I want to see your King, and let him know +What must be done to keep the Hatchet dull, +And how the Path of Friendship, Peace, and Trade +May be kept clean and solid as a Rock. + +SHARP. + +Our King is distant over the great Lake, +But we can quickly send him your Requests; +To which he'll listen with attentive Ear, +And act as tho' you told him with your Tongue. + +PONTEACH. + +Let him know then his People here are Rogues, +And cheat and wrong and use the Indians ill. +Tell him to send good Officers, and call +These proud ill-natur'd Fellows from my Country, +And keep his Hunters from my hunting Ground. +He must do this, and do it quickly too, +Or he will find the Path between us bloody. + +SHARP. + +Of this we will acquaint our gracious King, +And hope you and your Chiefs will now confirm +A solid Peace as if our King was present; +We're his Ambassadors, and represent him, +And bring these Tokens of his Royal Friendship +To you, your Captains, Chiefs, and valiant Men. +Read, Mr. Catchum, you've the Inventory. + +CATCHUM. + +The British King, of his great Bounty, sends +To Ponteach, King upon the Lakes, and his Chiefs, +Two hundred, No [_Aside_] a Number of fine Blankets, +Six hundred [_Aside_] Yes, and several Dozen Hatchets, +Twenty thousand [_Aside_] and a Bag of Wampum, +A Parcel too of Pans, and Knives, and Kettles. + +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, +To see and hold with you this friendly Talk; +We hope your Minds are all disposed to Peace, +And that you like our Sovereign's Bounty well. + +1ST CHIEF. + +We think it very small, we heard of more. +Most of our Chiefs and Warriors are not here, +They all expect to share a Part with us. + +2ND 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. + +3RD CHIEF. + +And those who haven't will be dissatisfied, +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, the great Southern Chief, +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._ + +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, +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; +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 and cast him from my Sight; +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, +Abhor the Arts of Falsehood 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; +But these are rich and worthy your Acceptance, +Few Kings on Earth can such as these bestow, +For Goodness, Beauty, Excellence, and Worth. + +PONTEACH. + +The Presents from your Sovereign I accept, +His friendly Belts to us shall be preserved, +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 Calumet I do not choose to smoke, +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; +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; +We're griev'd we cannot smoke the Pipe of Peace, +And part with stronger Proofs of Love and Friendship; +Meantime we hope you'll so consider Matters, +As still to keep the Hatchet dull and buried, +And open wide the shining Path of Peace, +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, +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. + +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. +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. + +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? + +CATCHUM. + +What would the King of England do with Wampum? +Or Beaver Skins, d'ye think? He's not a Hatter! + +GRIPE. + +Then it's a Perquisite belongs to us? + +SHARP. + +Yes, they're become our lawful Goods and Chattels, +By all the Rules and Laws of Indian Treaties. +The King would scorn to take a Gift from Indians, +And think us Madmen, should we send them to him. + +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, +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. +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 PHILIP and CHEKITAN from hunting, loaded with venison._ + +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 +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, +Effected by the conqu'ring British Troops. +Now may we hunt the Wilds secure from Foes, +And seek our Food and Clothing by the Chace, +While Ease and Plenty thro' our Country reign. + +PHILIP. + +Happy Effects indeed! long may they last! +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, +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, +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; +And join'd to fill the Air with loud Huzzas +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, +As one subdu'd and conquer'd with the French, +As one, whose Right to Empire now is lost, +And he become a Vassal 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, +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, +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, +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. +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 Roe +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. +The Fox, the Bear, the Eagle, Otter, Wolf, +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. +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, +Nay, more, will join them as firm Ally, +And influence other Chiefs by his Example, +To muster all their Strength against our Father. +Fathers perhaps will fight against their Sons, +And nearest Friends pursue each other's Lives; +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, +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, +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 +To Shame and Disappointment in the End, +And tumble blindfold on their own Disgrace. +True Valour's slow, deliberate, and cool, +Considers well the End, the Way, the Means, +And weighs each Circumstance attending them. +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 +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 Cabin. + +PHILIP. + +We will attend his Call with utmost Speed, +Nor wait Refreshment after our Day's Toil. [_Exeunt._ + + +SCENE II. _PONTEACH'S Cabin._ + +_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 +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, +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; +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, +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 +And execute whatever I command. + +CHEKITAN. + +When we refuse Obedience to your Will, +We are not worthy to be call'd your Sons. + +PHILIP. + +If we inherit not our Father's Valour, +We never can deserve to share his Empire. + +TENESCO. + +Spoke like yourselves, the Sons of Ponteach; +Strength, Courage, and Obedience form the Soldier, +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; +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 +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, +And spread Destruction through our happy Land. +Where are we now? The French are all subdued, +But who are in their Stead become our Lords? +A proud, imperious, churlish, haughty Band. +The French familiarized themselves with us, +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; +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; +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. +With Pleasure I wou'd call their King my Friend, +Yea, honour and obey him as my Father; +I'd be content, would he keep his own Sea, +And leave these distant Lakes and Streams to us; +Nay, I would pay him Homage, if requested, +And furnish Warriors to support his Cause. +But thus to lose my Country and my Empire, +To be a Vassal to his low Commanders, +Treated with disrespect and public Scorn +By Knaves, by Miscreants, Creatures of his Power; +Can this become a King like Ponteach, +Whose Empire's measured only by the Sun? +No, I'll assert my Right, the Hatchet raise, +And drive these Britons hence like frighted Deer, +Destroy their Forts, and make them rue the Day +That to our fertile Land they found the Way. + +TENESCO. + +No Contradiction to your great Design; +But will not such Proceeding injure us? +Where is our Trade and Commerce to be carry'd? +For they're possess'd of all the Country round, +Or whence Supplies of Implements for War? + +PONTEACH. + +Whence? Take them from our conquered running Foes. +Their Fortresses are Magazines of Death, +Which we can quickly turn against themselves; +And when they're driven to their destin'd Bounds, +Their Love of Gain will soon renew their Trade. +The heartless French, whene'er they see us conquer, +Will join their little Force to help us on. +Nay, many of their own brave trusty Soldiers, +In Hope of Gain, will give us their Assistance; +For Gain's their great Commander, and will lead them +Where their brave Generals cannot force their March: +Some have engag'd, when they see hope of Plunder, +In sly Disguise to kill their Countrymen. + +CHEKITAN. + +These Things indeed are promising and fair, +And seem a Prelude to our full Success. +But will not many Indian Chiefs refuse +To join the Lists, and hold themselves oblig'd +T' assist the Foe when hardly press'd by us? + +PONTEACH. + +I've sounded all their Minds; there's but a few +That are not warm and hearty in our Cause, +And those faint Hearts we'll punish at our Leisure: +For hither tends my Purpose; to subdue +The Tribes who now their annual Homage pay +To the imperious haughty Mohawk Chief, +Whose Pride and Insolence 'tis Time to curb. +He ever boasts the Greatness of his Empire, +The Swiftness, Skill and Valour of his Warriors, +His former Conquests, and his fresh Exploits, +The Terror of his Arms in distant Lands, +And on a Footing puts himself with me, +For Wisdom to contrive, and Power to do. +Such a proud Rival must not breathe the Air; +I'll die in fighting, or I'll reign alone +O'er every Indian Nation, Tribe, and Chief. +But this in solemn Silence we conceal, +Till they're drawn in to fight the common Foe, +Then from my Face, the sly Disguise I'll cast, +And shew them Ponteach to their Surprise. + +TENESCO. + +Thy Plan is wise, and may Success attend it; +May all the warlike numerous Tribes unite, +Nor cease to conquer while thou hast a Foe! +Then may they join and own thee for their Sovereign, +Pay full Submission to thy scepter'd Arm, +And universal Empire by thy own! + +CHEKITAN. + +Would you the Mohawk Emperor displease, +And wage a bloody War, by which you made +Him and his num'rous Tribes your certain Foes? + +PONTEACH. + +Most of his Tribes will welcome the Proposal; +For long their galled Necks have felt the Yoke, +Long wish'd for Freedom from his partial Sway, +In favour of the proud incroaching Britons. +Nay, they have oft, in spite of his Displeasure, +Rush'd forth like Wolves upon their naked Borders, +And now, like Tygers broken from their Chains, +they'll glut themselves, and revel in their Blood. + +PHILIP. + +Myself will undertake to make even Hendrick +Our zealous Friend against the common Foe; +His strong Attachment to them I'll dissolve, +And make him rage, and thirst for Vengeance on them. + +PONTEACH. + +This would be doing Honour to thyself, +And make thee worthy of thy Father's Crown. +The secret Means I will not now inquire, +Nor doubt but thus engag'd you will perform. +The Chiefs in part are knowing to my Purpose, +And think of nought but War, and Blood, and Plunder, +Till in full Council we declare our Pleasure. +But first my last Night's Dream I will relate, +Which much disturb'd my weary anxious Mind, +And must portend some signal grand Event +Of Good or Evil both to me or mine. +On yonder Plain I saw the lordly Elk +Snuffing the empty Air in seeming Sport, +Tossing his Head aloft, as if in Pride +Of his great Bulk and nervous active Limbs, +And Scorn of every Beast that haunts the Wood. +With mighty Stride he travelled to and fro, +And as he mov'd his Size was still increas'd, +Till his wide Branches reached above the Trees, +And his extended Trunk across the Plain. +The other Beasts beheld with wild Amaze, +Stood trembling round, nor dare they to approach +Till the fierce Tyger yell'd the loud Alarm, +When Bears, Cats, Wolves, Panthers, and Porcupines, +And other Beasts of Prey, with Force united +And savage Rage, attack'd the common Foe. +But as the busking Bull, when Summer Flies, +With keenest Sting disturb the grazing Herd, +Stands careless in some shady cool Retreat, +And from his Sides sweeps the envenom'd Mites, +Or shakes them with a Stamp into the Dust; +So he unmov'd amidst their Clamours stood, +Trampled and spurn'd them with his Hoofs and Horns, +Till all dispers'd in wild Disorder fled, +And left him Master of th' extended Plain. + +TENESCO. + +This Dream no doubt is full of some great Meaning, +And in it bears the Fate of your Design, +But whether good or ill, to me 's a Secret. + +PHILIP. + +It ne'er was counted ill to dream of Elks, +But always thought portentous of Success, +Of happy Life, and Victories in War, +Or fortune good when we attempt the Chace. + +CHEKITAN. + +Such is the common Say; but here the Size +And all the Circumstances are uncommon, +And therefore can contain no common Meaning: +I fear these Things portend no Good to us, +That Mischiefs lurk like Serpents in the Grass, +Whose pois'nous deadly Bite precedes all Warning. +That this Design will end in mighty Ruin +To us and ours, Discord among our Friends, +And Triumph to our Foes. + +PHILIP. + +A valiant Hero! +Thou always wast a Coward, and hated War, +And lov'st to loll on the soft Lap of Peace. +Thou art a very Woman in thy Heart, +And talk'st of Snakes and Bugbears in the Dark, +Till all is Horror and Amaze about thee, +And even thy own Shadow makes thee tremble. + +CHEKITAN. + +Is there no Courage in delib'rate Wisdom? +Is all rank Cowardice but Fire and Fury? +Is it all womanish to re-consider +And weigh the Consequences of our Actions, +Before we desperately rush upon them? +Let me then be the Coward, a mere Woman, +Mine be the Praise of Coolness, yours of Rage. + +PONTEACH. + +Peace, Peace, my Sons, nor let this casual Strife +divide your Hearts; both mean the common Good; +Go Hand in Hand to conquer and promote it. +I'll to our worthy Doctor and the Priest, +Who for our Souls' Salvation come from France; +They sure can solve the Mysteries of Fate, +And all the Secrets of a Dream explain; +Mean while, Tenesco, warn the other Chiefs +That they attend my Call within an Hour. + [_Exeunt PONTEACH and TENESCO._ + +PHILIP. + +My Warmth perhaps has carried me too far, +But it's not in me to be cool and backward +To act or speak when Kingdoms are the Prize. +My Blood runs high at the sweet Sound of Empire, +Such as our Father's Plan ensures to us, +And I'm impatient of the least Delay. + +CHEKITAN. + +Thy Fire thou hast a Right to style a Virtue; +Heat is our Friend when kept within due Bounds, +But if unbridled and allowed to rage, +It burns and blisters, torments and consumes, +And, Torrent-like, sweeps every Comfort by. +Think if our Father's Plan should prove abortive, +Our Troops repuls'd, or in th' Encounter slain, +Where are our conquer'd Kingdoms then to share, +Where are our Vict'ries, Trophies, Triumphs, Crowns, +That dazzle in thy Eye, and swell thy Heart; +That nerve thy Arm, and wing thy Feet to War +With this impetuous Violence and Speed? +Crest-fallen then, our native Empire lost, +In captive Chains we drag a wretched Life, +Or fly inglorious from the conquering Foe +To barren Mountains from this fertile Land, +There to repent our Folly when too late, +In Anguish mourn, and curse our wretched Fate. + +PHILIP. + +But why so much of Mischiefs that may happen? +These are mere Possibilities at most; +Creatures of Thought, which ne'er can be Objections, +In valiant Minds, to any great Attempt; +They're empty Echoes of a tim'rous Soul, +Like Bubbles driv'n by the tempestuous Storm, +The Breath of Resolution sweeps them off. +Nor dost thou judge them solid from thy Heart, +I know the secret Motive in thy Breast, +Thus to oppose our Father's great Design, +And from an Undertaking to dissuade, +In which thou'lt share the Profit and the Glory. +Hendrick, the King of Mohawks, hath a Daughter, +With whom I saw you dallying in the Shade, +And thought you then a Captive to her Charms. +The bright Monelia hangs upon thy Heart, +And softens all the Passions of thy Soul; +Her thou think'st lost should we proclaim a War, +In which the King her Father will not join. + +CHEKITAN. + +What if I have a Value for Monelia, +Is it a Crime? Does she not merit Love +From all who see her move, or hear her speak? + +PHILIP. + +True, she is engaging, has a charming Air; +And if thy Love is fix'd, I will assist it, +And put thee in Possession of the Joy +That thou desirest more than Crowns and Empire. + +CHEKITAN. + +As how, dear Philip? Should we wage a War, +Which Hendrick disapproves, the Prize is lost. +Not Empires then could make Monelia mine; +All Hopes are dash'd upon that fatal Rock; +Nor Gold, nor Prayers, nor Tears, nor Promises, +Nor all the Engin'ry of Love at Work, +Could save a single Moment of my Joy. + +PHILIP. + +Yes, I will save it all and make her thine, +Act but thy Part, and do as I prescribe, +In Peace or War thou shalt possess the Prize. + +CHEKITAN. + +Thy Words revive my half-despairing Heart. +What must I act? or which Way must I turn? +I'll brave all Dangers, every Ill defy, +Risk Life itself, to call Monelia mine. +Help me, my Philip, and I'll be thy Slave, +Resign my Share of Empire to thy Hand, +And lay a Claim to nothing but Monelia. + +PHILIP. + +Rewards I do not ask; I am thy Brother, +And hold my Kindness to thee as a Debt. +Thou know'st I have engag'd to bring King Hendrick +To join the Lists, and fight against our Foes, +To rouse him to Revenge, and Rage, and War, +And make him zealous in the common Cause. +Nay, with uncommon Fury he shall rave, +And urge his Warriors on to Blood and Murder. +When this is done, Monelia may be thine, +Hendrick will court Alliance to our Tribe, +And joy to call great Ponteach's Son his own. + +CHEKITAN. + +But should you fail in these Attempts, and he +Prove obstinately fix'd against the War, +Where's then Monelia? where is Chekitan? +My Hopes are blasted, all my Joys are fled, +Like the vain Phantoms of a Midnight Dream, +Are scattered like the Dust before a Whirlwind, +And all my Soul is left a Void for Pain, +Vexation, Madness, Frenzy, and Despair, +And all the Pains of disappointed Love. +Better I ne'er had flattered my fond Heart, +Nor sooth'd my Mind with Prospects of my Joy, +Than thus to perish on the Point of Hope. + +PHILIP. + +Leave all to me; I've so concerted Matters, +That I defy ev'n Fate to disappoint me. +Exert thyself, and to Monelia go, +Before th' assembled Chiefs in Council meet; +Urge it to her, and to her Brother Torax, +That should their Father prove refractory, +Withdraw himself, and order his Domestics +To hasten home at News of our Design; +Urge it, I say, to them; Torax loves War; +To linger here in Hopes of his Return, +Which tell them I'll effect ere twice the Sun +Has run the Circuit of his daily Race. +Here they may loiter careless, range the Woods, +As tho' the Noise of War had not been heard. +This will give full Success to both our Wishes: +Thou'lt gain the Prize of Love, and I of Wrath, +In favour to our Family and State. +Thou'lt tame the Turtle, I shall rouse the Tyger; +The one will soothe thy Soul to soft Repose, +The other prove a Terror to our Foes. + +CHEKITAN. + +I see the subtle Argument thou'lt use, +And how thou'lt work upon the old King's Weakness, +Thou'lt set his strong Affection for his Children +At War against his Kindness for our Foes, +By urging their Attachment to our Cause, +That they'll endure ev'n Banishment and Death, +Rather than cease to be our steadfast Friends. + +PHILIP. + +All this I'll urge, nay, more, I will convince him, +These Foes to us can be no Friends to him; +I'll thunder in his Ears their growing Power, +Their Villainies and Cheats upon his Subjects: +That their fair Shew of Love is foul Disguise; +That in their Hearts they hate the Name of Indians, +And court his Friendship only for their Profit; +That when no longer he subserves their Ends, +He may go whistle up some other Friends. + +CHEKITAN. + +This must alarm and bring him to our Mind. +I'll hasten to my Charge with utmost Speed, +Strain every Nerve, and every Power exert; +Plead, promise, swear like any Christian Trader; +But I'll detain them till our Ends are answer'd, +And you have won their Father to our Purpose. [_Exit._ + +PHILIP [_solus_]. + +Oh! what a wretched Thing is a Man in Love! +All Fear--all Hope--all Diffidence--all Faith-- +Distrusts the greatest Strength, depends on Straws-- +Soften'd, unprovident, disarm'd, unman'd, +Led blindfold; every Power denies its Aid, +And every Passion's but a Slave to this; +Honour, Revenge, Ambition, Interest, all +Upon its Altar bleed--Kingdoms and Crowns +Are slighted and condemn'd, and all the Ties +Of Nature are dissolv'd by this poor Passion: +Once have I felt its Poison in my Heart, +When this same Chekitan a Captive led +The fair Donanta from the Illinois; +I saw, admir'd, and lov'd the charming Maid, +And as a Favour ask'd her from his Hands, +But he refus'd and sold her for a Slave. +My Love is dead, but my Resentment lives, +And now's my Time to let the Flame break forth, +For while I pay this ancient Debt of Vengeance, +I'll serve my Country, and advance myself. +He loves Monelia--Hendrick must be won-- +Monelia and her Brother both must bleed-- +This is my Vengeance on her Lover's Head-- +Then I'll affirm, 'twas done by Englishmen-- +And to gain Credit both with Friends and Foes, +I'll wound myself, and say that I receiv'd it +By striving to assist them in the Combat. +This will rouse Hendrick's Wrath, and arm his Troops +To Blood and Vengeance on the common Foe. +And further still my Profit may extend; +My Brother's Rage will lead him into Danger, +And, he cut off, the Empire's all my own. +Thus am I fix'd; my Scheme of Goodness laid, +And I'll effect it, tho' thro' Blood I wade, +To desperate Wounds apply a desperate Cure, +And to tall Structures lay Foundations sure; +To Fame and Empire hence my Course I bend, +And every Step I take shall thither tend. + +_End of the Second Act._ + + + + +ACT III. + + +SCENE I. _A Forest._ + +CHEKITAN. + +[_Seeing TORAX and MONELIA, coming towards them._] + +As the young Hunter, anxious in the Chace, +With beating Heart and quivering Hand espies +The wish'd for Game, and trembles for th' Event, +So I behold the bright Monelia's Steps, +Whom anxiously I've sought, approach this way-- +What shall I say? or how shall I accost her? +It is a fatal Minute to mistake in. +The Joy or Grief of Life depends upon 't; +It is the important Crisis of my Fate. +I've thought a thousand things to say and do, +But know not which to say or do the first. +Shall I begin with my old Tale of Love? +Or shall I shock her with the News of War? +Must I put on the Face of Joy or Grief? +Seem unconcern'd or full of Doubts and Fears? +How unprepar'd I am for the Encounter! +I'd rather stand against an Host of Foes-- +But she draws near, and Fate must guide me now, + [_Enter TORAX and MONELIA._ +Where tend your Steps with such an Air of Joy? + +TORAX. + +To view the Beauties of th' extended Lake, +And on its mossy Bank recline at Ease, +While we behold the Sports of Fish and Fowl, +Which in this Calm no doubt will be diverting. +And these are new Amusements to Monelia, +She never saw the Sea or Lakes before. + +CHEKITAN. + +I'm glad our Country's aught to give such Pleasure +To one deservedly so welcome in it. + +MONELIA. + +That I am welcome you have oft assur'd me, +That I deserve it you may be mistaken, +The outside Shew, the Form, the Dress, the Air, +That please at first Acquaintance, oft deceive us, +And prove more Mimickers of true Desert, +Which always brightens by a further Trial, +Appears more lovely as we know it better, +At least can never suffer by Acquaintance. +Perhaps then you To-morrow will despise +What you esteem To-day, and call deserving. + +CHEKITAN. + +My Love to you, Monelia, cannot change. +Your Beauty, like the Sun, for ever pleases, +And like the Earth, my Love can never move. + +MONELIA. + +The Earth itself is sometimes known to shake, +And the bright Sun by Clouds is oft conceal'd, +And gloomy Night succeeds the Smiles of Day; +So Beauty oft by foulest Faults is veil'd, +And after one short Blaze admir'd no more, +Loses its Lustre, drops its sparkling Charms, +The Lover sickens, and his Passion dies. +Nay, worse, he hates what he so doted on. +Time only proves the Truth of Worth and Love, +The one may be a Cheat, the other change, +And Fears, and Jealousies, and mortal Hate, +Succeed the Sunshine of the warmest Passion. + +CHEKITAN. + +Have I not vow'd my Love to you, Monelia, +And open'd all the Weakness of my Heart? +You cannot think me false and insincere, +When I repeat my Vows to love you still; +Each time I see you move, or hear you speak, +It adds fresh Fuel to the growing Flame. +You're like the rising Sun, whose Beams increase +As he advances upward to our View; +We gaze with growing Wonder till we're blind, +And every Beauty fades and dies but his. +Thus shall I always view your growing Charm, +And every Day and Hour with fresh Delight. +Witness thou Sun and Moon, and Stars above, +Witness ye purling Streams and quivering Lakes, +Witness ye Groves and Hills, and Springs and Plains, +Witness ye Shades, and the cool Fountain, where +I first espied the Image of her Charms, +And starting saw her on th' adjacent Bank, +If I to my Monelia prove untrue. + +MONELIA. + +Hoh! now your Talk is so much like a Christian's, +That I must be excus'd if I distrust you, +And think your fair Pretences all designing. +I once was courted by a spruce young Blade, +A lac'd Coat Captain, warlike, active, gay, +Cockaded Hat and Medal on his Breast, +And every thing was clever but his Tongue; +He swore he lov'd, O! how he swore he lov'd, +Call'd on his God and Stars to witness for him, +Wish'd he might die, be blown to Hell and damn'd, +If ever he lov'd woman so before: +Call'd me his Princess, Charmer, Angel, Goddess, +Swore nothing else was ever half so pretty, +So dear, so sweet, so much to please his Taste, +He kiss'd, he squeez'd, and press'd me to his Bosom, +Vow'd nothing could abate his ardent Passion, +Swore he should die, should drown, or hang himself, +Could not exist if I denied his Suit, +And said a thousand Things I cannot Name: +My simple Heart, made soft by so much Heat, +Half gave Consent, meaning to be his Bride. +The Moment thus unguarded, he embrac'd, +And impudently ask'd to stain my Virtue. +With just Disdain I push'd him from my Arms, +And let him know he'd kindled my Resentment; +The Scene was chang'd from Sunshine to a Storm, +Oh! then he curs'd, and swore, and damn'd, and sunk, +Call'd me proud Bitch, pray'd Heav'n to blast my Soul, +Wish'd Furies, Hell, and Devils had my Body, +To say no more; bid me begone in Haste +Without the smallest Mark of his Affection. +This was an Englishman, a Christian Lover. + +CHEKITAN. + +Would you compare an Indian Prince to those +Whose Trade it is to cheat, deceive, and flatter? +Who rarely speak the Meaning of their Hearts? +Whose Tongues are full of Promises and Vows? +Whose very Language is a downright Lie? +Who swear and call on Gods when they mean nothing? +Who call it complaisant, polite good Breeding, +To say Ten thousand things they don't intend, +And tell their nearest Friends the basest Falsehood? +I know you cannot think me so perverse, +Such Baseness dwells not in an Indian's Heart, +And I'll convince you that I am no Christian. + +MONELIA. + +Then do not swear, nor vow, nor promise much, +An honest Heart needs none of this Parade; +Its Sense steals softly to the list'ning Ear, +And Love, like a rich Jewel we most value, +When we ourselves by Chance espy its Blaze +And none proclaims where we may find the Prize. +Mistake me not, I don't impeach your Honour, +Nor think you undeserving my Esteem; +When our Hands join you may repeat your Love, +But save these Repetitions from the Tongue. + +CHEKITAN. + +Forgive me, if my Fondness is too pressing, +'Tis Fear, 'tis anxious Fear, that makes it so. + +MONELIA. + +What do you fear? have I not said enough? +Or would you have me swear some Christian Oath? + +CHEKITAN. + +No, but I fear our Love will be oppos'd, +Your Father will forbid our Hands to join. + +MONELIA. + +I cannot think it; you are Ponteach's Son, +Heir to an Empire large and rich as his. + +CHEKITAN. + +True; but your Father is a Friend to Britons, +And mine a Foe, and now is fix'd on War, +Immediate War: This Day the Chiefs assemble, +To raise the Hatchet, and to arm the Troops. + +MONELIA. + +Then I must leave your Realm, and bid Adieu, +In spite of your fond Passion, or my own; +For I can never disoblige my Father, +Though by it I were sure to gain an Empire. + +CHEKITAN. + +Then Chekitan's undone, undone for ever. +Unless your Father by kind Fate is mov'd +To be our Friend, and join the Lists with mine. + +TORAX. + +Nothing would please me better; I love War, +And think it time to curb the English Pride, +And give a check to their increasing Power. +The Land is ravag'd by their numerous Bands, +And every Day they're growing more our Lords. + +CHEKITAN. + +Are you sincere, or do you feign this Speech? + +TORAX. + +Indeed my Tongue does not bely my Heart; +And but my Father's wrong-turn'd Policy +Forbids, I'd instant join in War with you, +And help to set new Limits to their Power. + +CHEKITAN. + +'Tis plain, if they proceed, nor you nor I +Shall rule an Empire, or possess a Crown, +Our Countries all will soon become a Prey +To Strangers; we perhaps shall be their Slaves. +But will your Father be convinc'd of this? + +TORAX. + +I doubt he'll not. The good old Man esteems +And dotes upon them as most worthy Friends; +I've told him often that he cherish'd Serpents, +To bite his Children, and destroy his Friends. +But this he calls the Folly of my Youth, +Bids me be silent, show Respect to Age, +Nor sow Sedition in my Father's Empire. + +CHEKITAN. + +Stiff as he is, he yet may be subdued; +And I've a Power prepar'd that will attack him. +Should he refuse his Aid to our Design, +Retire himself, and bid his Troops to follow, +Yet Philip stands engag'd for his Return, +Ere twice the Sun has ris'n and blest the Earth. +Philip is eloquent, and so prepar'd, +He cannot fail to bend him to our Purpose. +You and Monelia have a Part to act; +To linger here, should he in Haste retreat +Till Philip follows and employs his Force. +Your Stay will add new Life to the Design, +And be of mighty Weight to gain Success. + +MONELIA. + +How shall we tarry midst the Noise of War, +In Danger of our Lives from Friends and Foes; +This will be deem'd a Madness by our Father, +And will deserve his most severe Rebuke. + +CHEKITAN. + +Myself will be a Sponsor for your Safety; +And should your Father baffle our Attempts, +Conduct you home from all the Noise of War, +Where may you long in Peace and Plenty smile, +While I return to mourn my hapless Fate. +But should Success attend on Philip's Purpose. +Your Father will not discommend your Stay, +But smiling give new Vigour to the War; +Which being ended, and our Foes subdu'd, +The happy Fruits of Peace succeed to all, +But we shall taste the greater Sweets of Love. + +TORAX. + +The Purport of our Stay is hid from me; +But Philip's subtle, crafty as the Fox. +We'll give full Scope to his enticing Art, +And help him what we can to take the Prey. + +MONELIA. + +In your Protection then I trust myself, +Nor will delay beyond th' appointed Term, +Lest anxious Fears possess our Father's Heart, +Or Mischiefs happen that incur his Anger. + +TORAX. + +It is agreed; we now pursue our Walk; +Mean time consult what else may be of Use, +You're pain'd with Love, and I'm in Pain for War. [_Exeunt._ + +CHEKITAN [_solus_]. + +The Game is sure--Her Brother's on my Side-- +Her Brother and my own--My Force is strong-- +But could her Father now be rous'd to War, +How should I triumph and defy even Fate? +But Fortune favours all advent'rous Souls: +I'll now to Philip; tell him my Success, +And rouse up every Spark of Vigour in him: +He will conceive fresh Hopes, and be more zealous. + + +SCENE II. _PONTEACH'S Cabin._ + +_PONTEACH, an Indian CONJURER, and French PRIEST._ + +PONTEACH. + +Well! have you found the Secret of my Dream, +By all your Cries, and Howls, and Sweats, and Prayers? +Or is the Meaning still conceal'd from Man, +And only known to Genii and the Gods? + +CONJURER. + +Two Hours I've lain within the sultry Stove, +While Floods of Sweat ran trickling from my Skin; +With Howls and Cries and all the Force of Sound +Have I invok'd your Genius and my own, +Smote on my Breast, and beat against my Head, +To move an Answer, and the Secret learn. +But all in vain, no Answer can I have, +Till I first learn what secret Purposes +And great Designs are brooding in your Mind. + +PRIEST. + +At our pure Virgin's Shrine I've bowed my Knees, +And there in fervent Prayer pour'd out my Soul; +Call'd on Saint Peter, call'd on all the Saints +That know the Secrets both of Heaven and Earth, +And can reveal what Gods themselves can do: +I've us'd the Arts of our most holy Mother, +Which I receiv'd when I forsook the World, +And gave myself to Holiness and Heaven; +But can't obtain the Secret of your Dream, +Till I first know the Secrets of your Heart, +Or what you hope or wish to be effected. +'Tis on these Terms we learn the Will of God, +What Good or Ill awaits on Kings or Kingdoms; +And without this, St. Peter's Self can't tell, +But at a Dream like yours would be confounded. + +PONTEACH. + +You're well agreed--Our Gods are much alike-- +And I suspect both Rogues--What! won't they tell! +Should they betray my Scheme, the whole is blown. +And yet I fain would know. I'll charge them first. +Look here; if I disclose a Secret to you, +Tell it to none but silent honest Gods; +Death to you both, if you reveal to Men. + +BOTH. + +We will, we will, the Gods alone shall know. + +PONTEACH. + +Know then that I have fix'd on speedy War, +To drive these new Encroachers from my Country. +For this I meant t' engage our several Tribes, +And when our Foes are driven to their Bounds, +That we may stand and hold our Rights secure, +Unite our Strength under one common Head, +Whom all these Petty Kings must own their Lord, +Not even Hendrick's self shall be excused. +This is my Purpose. Learn if it shall prosper, +Or will it end in Infamy and Shame? + +CONJURER. + +[_Smiting on his breast, groaning, and muttering in his cloak or + blanket, falls down upon the ground, beats his head against it, and + pretends to listen: then rises, and says with a rumbling hideous + voice:_] + +Success and Victory shall attend your Arms; +You are the mighty Elk that none can conquer, +And all the Tribes shall own you for their King. +Thus, say the Genii, does your Dream intend. + +PRIEST. + +[_Looking up to Heaven in a praying posture for a small space, says:_] + +Had I but known you was resolv'd on War, +And War against those Heretics the English, +I need not to have ask'd a God or Saint +To signify the Import of your Dream. +Your great Design shall have a prosperous End, +'Tis by the Gods approv'd, and must succeed. +Angels and Saints are dancing now in Heaven: +Your Enemies are theirs, are hated by them, +And they'll protect and help you as their Champion, [_Aside._ +That fights their Battles, and defends their Cause. +Our great St. Peter is himself a Warrior; +He drew his Sword against such Infidels, +And now, like him, you'll gain immortal Honour, +And Gods in Heaven and Saints on Earth will praise you. + +PONTEACH. + +The Gods and Genii do as you have said. +I'll to the Chiefs, and hasten them to Arms. + [_Exeunt PONTEACH and CONJURER._ + +PRIEST [_solus_]. + +This, by St. Peter, goes as I would have it. +The Conjurer agreed with me to pump him, +Or else deny to solve his dubious Vision: +But, that we've so agreed in our Responses, +Is all mere Providence, and rul'd by Heaven, +To give us further Credit with this Indian. +Now he is fix'd--will wage immediate War-- +This will be joyful News in France and Rome, +That Ponteach is in Arms, and won't allow +The English to possess their new-gain'd Empire: +That he has slain their Troops, destroy'd their Forts, +Expell'd them from the Lakes to their old Limits: +That he prefers the French, and will assist +To repossess them of this fertile Land. +By all the Saints, of this I'll make a Merit, +Declare myself to be the wise Projector; +This may advance me towards St. Peter's Chair, +And these blind Infidels by Accident +May have a Hand in making me a Pope-- +But stop--Won't this defeat my other Purpose? +To gain the Mohawk Princess to my Wishes? +No--by the holy Virgin, I'll surprise her, +And have one hearty Revel in her Charms. +But now I'll hasten to this Indian Council; +I may do something there that's apropos. [_Exit._ + + +SCENE III. _An Indian Senate-House._ + +_PONTEACH, TENESCO, PHILIP, ASTINACO, BEAR, WOLF, and French PRIEST._ + +PONTEACH. + +Are all the Chiefs and Warriors here assembled, +That we expect to honour this Day's Council? + +TENESCO. + +All are conven'd except the Mohawk King, +Who, as we are inform'd, denies his Presence. + +PHILIP. + +I've half succeeded with the stubborn Chief. +He will not join in Council, but hath promised, +Till further Notice, not to be our Foe: +He'll see how we unite, and what Success +Attends our Arms; in short, he gives strong Hints +That he will soon befriend the common Cause. + +PONTEACH. + +Do what he will, 'tis this explains my Meaning; + [_Taking up the hatchet._ +You all are well appris'd of my Design, +Which every passing Moment but confirms: +Nay, my Heart's pain'd while I withhold my Hand +From Blood and Vengeance on our hated Foes. +Tho' I should stand alone, I'll try my Power +To punish their Encroachments, Frauds, and Pride; +Yet tho' I die, it is my Country's Cause, +'Tis better thus to die than be despis'd; +Better to die than be a Slave to Cowards, +Better to die than see my Friends abus'd; +The Aged scorn'd, the Young despis'd and spurn'd. +Better to die than see my Country ruin'd, +Myself, my Sons, my Friends reduc'd to Famine, +Expell'd from hence to barren Rocks and Mountains, +To curse our wretched Fate and pine in Want; +Our pleasant Lakes and Fertile Lands usurp'd +By Strangers, Ravagers, rapacious Christians. +Who is it don't prefer a Death in War +To this impending Wretchedness and Shame? +Who is it loves his Country, Friends, or Self, +And does not feel Resentment in his Soul? +Who is it sees their growing Strength and Power, +And how we waste and fail by swift Degrees, +That does not think it Time to rouse and arm, +And kill the Serpent ere we feel it sting, +And fall the Victims of its painful Poison? +Oh! could our Fathers from their Country see +Their ancient Rights encroach'd upon and ravag'd, +And we their Children slow, supine, and careless +To keep the Liberty and Land they left us, +And tamely fall a Sacrifice to Knaves! +How would their Bosoms glow with patriot Shame, +To see their Offspring so unlike themselves? +They dared all Dangers to defend their Rights, +Nor tamely bore an Insult from a Foe. +Their plain rough Souls were brave and full of Fire, +Lovers of War, nor knew the Pain of Fear. +Rouse, then, ye Sons of ancient Heroes, rouse, +Put on your Arms, and let us act a Part +Worthy the Sons of such renowned Chiefs. +Nor urge I you to Dangers that I shun, +Or mean to act my Part by Words alone; +This Hand shall wield the Hatchet in the Cause, +These Feet pursue the frighted running Foe, +This Body rush into the hottest Battle; +There should I fall, I shall secure my Honour, +And, dying, urge my Countrymen to Vengeance +With more Success than all the Force of Words. +Should I survive, I'll shed the foremost Tear +O'er my brave Countrymen that chance to fall; +I'll be the foremost to revenge their Blood, +And, while I live, honour both them and theirs, +I add no more, but wait to hear your Minds. + +TENESCO. + +Tho' I'm a Warrior, and delight in Arms, +Have oft with Pleasure heard the Sound of Battle, +And oft return'd with Victory and Triumph; +Yet I'm not fond to fight without just Cause, +Or shed the Blood of Men for my Diversion; +But I have seen, with my own Eyes I've seen, +High Provocations from our present Foes, +Their Pride and Insults, Knavery and Frauds, +Their large Encroachments on our common Rights, +Which every Day increase, are seen by all, +And grown so common, they are disregarded. +What calls on us more loudly for Revenge, +Is their Contempt and Breach of public Faith. +When we complain, they sometimes promise fair; +When we grow restless, Treaties are propos'd, +And Promises are gilded then with Presents. +What is the End? Still the old Trade goes on; +Their Colonels, Governors, and mighty Men, +Cheat, lie, and break their solemn Promises, +And take no care to have our Wrongs redress'd. +Their King is distant, would he hear our Prayers: +Still we've no other Way to come at Justice, +But by our Arms to punish Wrongs like these, +And Wrongs like these are national and public, +Concern us all, and call for public Vengeance. +And Wrongs like these are recent in our Minds. + +PHILIP. + +Public or private Wrongs, no matter which. +I think our Hunters ought to be reveng'd; +Their Bodies are found torn by rav'nous Beasts, +But who doubts they were kill'd by Englishmen? +Their Heads are scalp'd, their Arms and Jewels gone, +And Beasts of Prey can have no Use for these. +No, they were murdered, slyly, basely shot, +And who that has a Heart does not resent it? +Oh! how I long to tear their mangled Limbs! +Yes, I could eat their Hearts, and drink their Blood, +And revel in their Torments, Pains, and Tortures; +And, though I go alone, I'll seek Revenge. + +ASTINACO. + +This is the Fire and Madness of your Youth, +And must be curb'd to do your Country Service. +Facts are not always what they seem to be, +And this perhaps may be the Fault of One +Whom their Laws punish if you once detect him. +Shall we then, to revenge your Countrymen, +To recompense a Wrong by one committed, +Rouse all to Arms, and make a general Slaughter? +'Tis higher Motives move my Mind to War, +And make me zealous in the common Cause. +But hear me--'Tis no Trifle we're upon-- +If we have Wisdom, it must now be used; +If we have Numbers, they must be united; +If we have Strength, it must be all exerted; +If we have Courage it must be inflamed, +And every Art and Stratagem be practis'd: +We've more to do than fright a Pigeon Roost, +Or start a timorous Flock of running Deer; +Yes, we've a strong, a warlike stubborn Foe, +Unus'd to be repuls'd and quit the Field, +Nay, flush'd with Victories and long Success, +Their Numbers, Strength, and Courage all renown'd, +'Tis little of them that you see or know. +I've seen their Capital, their Troops and Stores, +Their Ships, their Magazines of Death and Vengeance, +And, what is more, I've seen their potent King, +Who like a God sits over all the World, +And thunders forth his Vengeance thro' the Earth. +When he is pleas'd, Smiles sit upon his Face, +And Goodness flows in Rivers at his Feet; +When he's provok'd, 'tis like a fiery Tempest, +All's Terror and Amazement in his Presence, +And frighted Heroes trembling flee his Wrath. +What then is to be done? what may we hope? +At most, by secret, sly, and subtle Means +To curb these vagrant Outcasts of his Subjects, +Secure our Countries from their further Ravage, +And make ourselves of more Importance to them, +Perhaps procure a Peace to our Advantage. +In this I'll join and head my valiant Troops, +Who will not fail to act a valiant Part. + +THE BEAR. + +What is the Greatness of their King to us? +What of his Strength or Wisdom? Shall we fear +A Lion chain'd, or in another World? +Or what avails his flowing Goodness to us? +Does not the ravenous Tyger feed her Young? +And the fierce Panther fawn upon his Mate? +Do not the Wolves defend and help their Fellows, +The poisonous Serpent feed her hissing Brood, +And open wide her Mouth for their Protection? +So this good King shows Kindness to his own, +And favours them, to make a Prey of others; +But at his Hands we may expect no Favour, +Look back, my Friends, to our Forefathers' Time, +Where is their Country? where their pleasant Haunts? +The running Streams and shady Forests where? +They chas'd the flying Game, and liv'd in Plenty. +Lo, these proud Strangers now possess the Whole; +Their Cities, Towns, and Villages arise, +Forests are spoil'd, the Haunts of Game destroy'd, +And all the Sea Coasts made one general Waste; +Between the Rivers Torrent-like they sweep, +And drive our Tribes toward the setting Sun. +They who once liv'd on yon delightful Plains +Are now no more, their very Name is lost. +The Sons of potent Kings, subdu'd and murder'd, +Are Vagrants, and unknown among their Neighbours. +Where will the Ravage stop? the Ruin where? +Does not the Torrent rush with growing Speed, +And hurry us to the same wretched End? +Let us grow wise then by our Fathers' Folly, +Unite our Strength, too long it's been divided, +And mutual Fears and Jealousies obtain'd: +This has encourag'd our encroaching Foes, +But we'll convince them, once, we dare oppose them. + +THE WOLF. + +Yet we have Strength by which we may oppose, +But every Day this Strength declines and fails. +Our great Forefathers, ere these Strangers came, +Liv'd by the Chace, with Nature's Gifts content, +The cooling Fountain quench'd their raging Thirst. +Doctors, and Drugs, and Med'cines were unknown, +Even Age itself was free from Pain and Sickness. +Swift as the Wind, o'er Rocks and Hills they chas'd +The flying Game, the bounding Stag outwinded, +And tir'd the savage Bear, and tam'd the Tyger; +At Evening feasted on the past Day's Toil, +Nor then fatigu'd; the merry Dance and Song +Succeeded; still with every rising Sun +The Sport renew'd; or if some daring Foe +Provok'd their Wrath, they bent the hostile Bow, +Nor waited his Approach, but rush'd with Speed, +Fearless of Hunger, Thirst, Fatigue, or Death. +But we their soften'd Sons, a puny Race, +Are weak in Youth, fear Dangers where they're not; +Are weary'd with what was to them a Sport, +Panting and breathless in One short Hour's Chace; +And every Effort of our Strength is feeble. +We're poison'd with the Infection of our Foes, +Their very Looks and Actions are infectious, +And in deep Silence spread Destruction round them. +Bethink yourselves while any Strength remains; +Dare to be like your Fathers, brave and strong, +Nor further let the growing Poison spread. +And would you stop it, you must resolve to conquer, +Destroy their Forts and Bulwarks, burn their Towns, +And keep them at a greater Distance from us. +Oh! 'tis a Day I long have wish'd to see, +And, aged as I am, my Youth returns +To act with Vigour in so good a Cause. +Yes, you shall see the old Wolf will not fail +To head his Troops, and urge them on to Battle. + +PONTEACH. + +Your Minds are all for War, we'll not delay; +Nor doubt but others gladly will comply, +When they behold our Union and Success. + +TENESCO. + +This Holy Priest has something to propose +That may excite us all to greater Zeal. + +PONTEACH. + +Let him be heard: 'Tis something from his Gods, +And may import the common Interest much. + +PRIEST. + +[_Coming from one side, where he hath stood listening._] + +'Tis not to shew my Eloquence of Speech, +Or drown your Senses with unmeaning Sound, +That I desire Admittance to your Council; +It is an Impulse from the Gods that moves me, +That what I say will be to your Advantage. +Oh! With what secret Pleasure I behold +So many wise and valiant Kings unite, +And in a Cause by Gods and Saints espous'd. +Heaven smiles on your Design, and it shall prosper. +You're going to fight the Enemies of God; +Rebels and Traitors to the King of Kings; +Nay, those who once betray'd and kill'd his Son, +Who came to save you Indians from Damnation-- +He was an Indian, therefore they destroy'd him; +He rose again and took his flight to Heaven; +But when his Foes are slain he'll quick return; +And be your kind Protector, Friend, and King. +Be therefore brave and fight his Battles for him; +Spare not his Enemies, where-e'r you find 'em: +The more you murder them, the more you please him; +Kill all you captivate, both old and young, +Mothers and Children, let them feel your Tortures; +He that shall kill a Briton, merits Heaven. +And should you chance to fall, you'll be convey'd +By flying Angels to your King that's there +Where these your hated Foes can never come. +Doubt you the Truth of this my Declaration? +I have a Witness here that cannot lie. [_Pulling out a burning glass._ +This Glass was touch'd by your great Saviour's Hand, +And after left in holy Peter's Care; +When I command, it brings down Fire from Heaven, +To witness for me that I tell no Lie. + [_The INDIANS gather round and gaze._ +Behold--Great God, send Fire, convince these Indian Kings +That I'm thy Servant, and report the Truth, + [_In a very praying posture and solemn canting tone._ +Am sent to teach them what they ought to do, +To kill and scalp, to torture and torment +Thy murderous treacherous Foes, the hateful English. + [_It takes fire; the INDIANS are amaz'd, and retreat from it._ + +PONTEACH. + +Who now can doubt the Justice of our Cause, +Or this Man's Mission from the King above, +And that we ought to follow his Commands? + +ASTINACO. + +'Tis wonderful indeed--It must be so-- + +TENESCO. + +This cannot be a Cheat--It is from Heaven-- + +ALL. + +We are convinc'd and ready to obey; +We are impatient to revenge our King. + +PONTEACH. + +[_Takes up the bloody hatchet and flourishes it round._] + +Thus do I raise the Hatchet from the Ground, +Sharpen'd and bright may it be stain'd with Blood, +And never dull'd nor rusted till we've conquer'd, +And taught proud Englishmen to dread its Edge. + +ALL. + +[_Flourishing their hatchets, and striking them upon a block._] + +Thus will we hew and carve their mangled Bodies, +And give them to the Beasts and Birds for Food. + +PONTEACH. + +And thus our Names and Honours will maintain +While Sun and Moon, Rivers and Trees remain; +Our unborn Children shall rejoice to hear +How we their Fathers made the English fear. + +THE WAR SONG. + +_To the tune of "Over the Hills and far away," 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 music + plays._ + + Where-e'r the Sun displays his Light, + Or Moon is seen to shine by Night, + Where-e'r the noisy Rivers flow + Or Trees and Grass and Herbage grow.--_Chorus._ + + Be 't known that we this War begin + With proud insulting Englishmen; + 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, + 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.--_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 Skulls, and spare their Lives.--_Chorus._ + + Or in their Country they'll complain, + 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, + 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, + Where-e'r 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.--_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, + Will we pursue, and they shall fly + To Seas which they a Refuge think, + And there in wretched Crowds 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; +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 choose of all the Troops to be their Leader; +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; +Already you've confirm'd your Fame and Courage, +And prov'd your Skill and Strength as a 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, +And oversets the Scheme of winning Hendrick. + +PHILIP. + +Ah true--and kills your Hope--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, +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 +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: +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 do it-- +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-- +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; +A Thought in Poison dipp'd and pointed round; +Oh! 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?--It is Monelia's Voice; +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._ + +CHEKITAN. + +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, +I'd murder him, or kill my wretched Self. + +PRIEST. + +I must I can, and will enjoy you now. + +MONELIA. + +You must! You sha'n'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? [_Pushes him._ +What was his Will, Monelia? He is dumb. + +MONELIA. + +May he be dumb and blind, and senseless quite, +That had 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, +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, +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? +Have you not told us, Death, and Fire, and Hell +Await those who are incontinent, +Or dare to violate the Rites of Wedlock? +That your God's Mother liv'd and died a Virgin, +And thereby set Example to her Sex? +What means all this? Say you such Things to us, +That you alone may revel in these Pleasures? + +PRIEST. + +I have a Dispensation from St. Peter +To quench the Fire of Love when it grows painful. +This makes it innocent like Marriage Vows; +And all our holy Priests, and she herself, +Commit 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, +And, should the Seed take Root, the Fruit is pure. + +CHEKITAN. + +Oh vain Pretense! Falsehood 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. +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, +Or hear your lying Tongue within this Country. + +PRIEST. + +Now by St. Peter 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 Lies, and Saints shall save you. + +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. [_Exit._ + +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, +The Hope of whom is more than the Creation. +In this I feel the Triumph of an Hero, +And glory more than if I'd conquer'd Kingdoms. + +MONELIA. + +Oh, I am thine, I'm more than ever thine; +I am your Captive now, your lawful Prize: +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, +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, +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! +Like Snakes, their very Eyes are full of Poison; +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, +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 lie conceal'd about us, +We tread on Serpents ere we hear them hiss, +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, +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, +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: +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; +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? +If you're withheld, 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, +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: +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; +Laurels 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! + +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._ + + +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. + +PHILIP. + +His Love may 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. + +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, +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; +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, +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. [_Enter a MESSENGER._ + +MESSENGER. + +Huzza! for our brave Warriors are return'd +Loaded with Plunder and the Scalps of Christians. [_Enter WARRIORS._ + +PONTEACH. + +What have you done? Why all this Noise and Shouting? + +1ST WARRIOR. + +Three Forts are taken, all consum'd and plunder'd; +The English in them all destroy'd by Fire, +Except some few escap'd to die with Hunger. + +2ND WARRIOR. + +We've smok'd the Bear in spite of all his Craft, +Burnt up their Den, and made them take the Field: +The mighty Colonel Cockum and his Captain +Have dull'd our Tomhocks; here are both their Scalps: + [_Holding out the two scalps._ +Their Heads are split, our Dogs have eat their Brains. + +PHILIP. + +If that be all they've eat, the Hounds will starve. + +3RD WARRIOR. + +These are the scalps of those two famous Cheats +Who bought our Furs for Rum, and sold us Water. + [_Holding out the scalps, which PONTEACH takes._ +Our Men are loaded with their Furs again, +And other Plunder from the Villains' Stores. + +PONTEACH. + +All this is brave! [_Tossing up the scalps, which others catch, and + toss and throw them about._ +This Way we'll serve them all. + +PHILIP. + +We'll cover all our Cabins with their Scalps. + +WARRIORS. + +We'll fat our Dogs upon their Brains and Blood. + +PONTEACH. + +Ere long we'll have their Governors in Play. + +PHILIP. + +And knock their grey-wig'd Scalps about this Way. + +PONTEACH. + +The Game is started; Warriors, hunt away, +Nor let them find a Place to shun your Hatchets. + +ALL WARRIORS. + +We will: We will soon shew you other Scalps. + +PHILIP. + +Bring some alive; I long to see them dance +In Fire and Flames, it us'd to make them caper. + +WARRIORS. + +Such Sport enough you'll have before we've done. [_Exeunt._ + +PONTEACH. + +This still will help to move the Mohawk King. +Spare not to make the most of our Success. + +PHILIP. + +Trust me for that--Hark; there's another Shout; [_Shouting without._ +A Shout for Prisoners--Now I have my Sport. + +PONTEACH. + +It is indeed; and there's a Number too. + +_Enter WARRIORS._ + +1ST WARRIOR. + +We've broke the Barrier, burnt their Magazines, +Slew Hundreds of them, and pursu'd the rest +Quite to their Settlements. + +2ND WARRIOR. + +There we took +Their famous Hunters Honnyman and Orsbourn: +The last is slain, this is his bloody Scalp. [_Tossing it up._ +With them we found the Guns of our lost Hunters, +And other Proofs that they're the Murderers; +Nay, Honnyman confesses the base Deed, +And, boasting, says, he's kill'd a Score of Indians. + +3RD WARRIOR. + +This is the bloody Hunter: This his Wife; + [_Leading them forward, pinioned and tied together._ +With two young Brats that will be like their Father. +We took them in their Nest, and spoil'd their Dreams. + +PHILIP. + +Oh I could eat their Hearts, and drink their Blood, +Were they not Poison, and unfit for Dogs. +Here, you Blood-hunter, have you lost your Feeling? +You Tygress Bitch! You Breeder up of Serpents! + [_Slapping HONNYMAN in the face, and kicking his wife._ + +PONTEACH. + +Stop--We must first consult which way to torture. +And whether all shall die--We will retire. + +PHILIP [_going_]. + +Take care they don't escape. + +WARRIOR. + +They're bound secure. [_Exeunt INDIANS; manent PRISONERS._ + + +SCENE IV. + +MRS. HONNYMAN. + +Oh, Honnyman, how desperate is our Case! +There's not a single Hope of Mercy left: +How savage, cruel, bloody did they look! +Rage and Revenge appear'd in every Face. + +HONNYMAN. + +You may depend upon 't, we all must die, +I've made such Havoc, they'll have no Compassion; +They only wait to study out new Torments: +All that can be inflicted or endur'd, +We may expect from their relentless Hands. +Their brutal Eyes ne'er shed a pitying Tear; +Their savage Hearts ne'er had a Thought of Mercy; +Their Bosoms swell with Rancour and Revenge, +And, Devil-like, delight in others' Plagues, +Love Torments, Torture, Anguish, Fire, and Pain, +The deep-fetch'd Groan, the melancholy Sigh, +And all the Terrors and Distress of Death, +These are their Music, and enhance their Joy. +In Silence then submit yourself to Fate: +Make no Complaint, nor ask for their Compassion; +This will confound and half destroy their Mirth; +Nay, this may put a stop to many Tortures, +To which our Prayers and Tears and Plaints would move them. + +MRS. HONNYMAN. + +Oh, dreadful Scene! Support me, mighty God, +To pass the Terrors of this dismal Hour, +All dark with Horrors, Torments, Pains, and Death! +Oh, let me not despair of thy kind Help; +Give Courage to my wretched, groaning Heart! + +HONNYMAN. + +Tush, Silence! You'll be overheard. + +MRS. HONNYMAN. + +Oh, my dear Husband! 'Tis an Hour for Prayer, +An Infidel would pray in our Distress: +An Atheist would believe there was some God +To pity Pains and Miseries so great. + +HONNYMAN. + +If there's a God, he knows our secret Wishes; +This Noise can be no Sacrifice to him; +It opens all the Springs of our weak Passions. +Besides, it will be Mirth to our Tormentors; +They'll laugh, and call this Cowardice in Christians +And say Religion makes us all mere Women. + +MRS. HONNYMAN. + +I will suppress my Grief in Silence then, +And secretly implore the Aid of Heaven. +Forbid to pray! Oh, dreadful Hour indeed! [_Pausing._ +Think you they will not spare our dear sweet Babes? +Must these dear Innocents be put to Tortures, +Or dash'd to Death, and share our wretched Fate? +Must this dear Babe that hangs upon my Breast + [_Looking upon her infant._ +Be snatch'd by savage Hands and torn in Pieces! +Oh, how it rends my Heart! It is too much! +Tygers would kindly soothe a Grief like mine; +Unconscious Rocks would melt, and flow in Tears +At this last Anguish of a Mother's Soul. + [_Pauses, and views her child again._ +Sweet Innocent! It smiles at this Distress, +And fondly draws this final Comfort from me: +Dear Babe, no more: Dear Tommy too must die, + [_Looking at her other child._ +Oh, my sweet First-born! Oh, I'm overpower'd. [_Pausing._ + +HONNYMAN. + +I had determin'd not to shed a Tear; [_Weeping._ +But you have all unman'd my Resolution; +You've call'd up all the Father in my Soul; +Why have you nam'd my Children? Oh, my Son! [_Looking upon him._ +My only Son--My Image--Other Self! +How have I doted on the charming Boy, +And fondly plann'd his Happiness in Life! +Now his Life ends: Oh, the Soul-bursting Thought! +He falls a Victim for his Father's Folly. +Had I not kill'd their Friends, they might have spar'd +My Wife, my Children, and perhaps myself, +And this sad, dreadful Scene had never happen'd. +But 'tis too late that I perceive my Folly; +If Heaven forgive, 'tis all I dare to hope for. + +MRS. HONNYMAN. + +What! have you been a Murderer indeed! +And kill'd the Indians for Revenge and Plunder? +I thought you rash to tempt their brutal Rage, +But did not dream you guilty as you said. + +HONNYMAN. + +I am indeed. I murder'd many of them, +And thought it not amiss, but now I fear. + +MRS. HONNYMAN. + +O shocking Thought! Why have you let me know +Yourself thus guilty in the Eye of Heaven? +That I and my dear Babes were by you brought +To this Extreme of Wretchedness and Woe? +Why have you let me know the solemn Weight +Of horrid Guilt that lies upon us all? +To have died innocent, and seen these Babes +By savage Hands dash'd to immortal Rest, +This had been light, for this implies no Crime: +But now we die as guilty Murderers, +Not savage Indians, but just Heaven's Vengeance +Pursues our Lives with all these Pains and Tortures. +This is a Thought that points the keenest Sorrow, +And leaves no Room for Anguish to be heighten'd. + +HONNYMAN. + +Upbraid me not, nor lay my Guilt to Heart; +You and these Fruits of our past Morning Love +Are innocent. I feel the Smart and Anguish, +The Stings of Conscience, and my Soul on Fire. +There's not a Hell more painful than my Bosom, +Nor Torments for the Damn'd more keenly pointed. +How could I think to murder was no Sin? +Oh, my lost Neighbour! I seduc'd him too. +Now death with all its Terrors disappears, +And all I fear 's a dreadful Something-after; +My Mind forebodes a horrid, woful Scene, +Where Guilt is chain'd and tortur'd with Despair. + +MRS. HONNYMAN. + +The Mind oppress'd with Guilt may find Relief. + +HONNYMAN. + +Oh, could I reach the pitying Ear of Heaven, +And all my Soul evaporate in Sound, +'T would ask Forgiveness! but I fear too late; +And next I'd ask that you and these dear Babes +Might bear no Part in my just Punishment. +Who knows but by pathetic Prayers and Tears +Their savage Bosoms may relent towards you, +And fix their Vengeance where just Heaven points it? +I still will hope, and every Motive urge. +Should I succeed, and melt their rocky Hearts, +I'd take it as a Presage of my Pardon, +And die with Comfort when I see you live. + [_Death halloo is heard without._ + +MRS. HONNYMAN. + +Hark! they are coming--Hear that dreadful Halloo. + +HONNYMAN. + +It is Death's solemn Sentence to us all; +They are resolv'd, and all Entreaty's vain. +Oh horrid Scene! how shall I act my Part? +Was it but simple Death to me alone! +But all your Deaths are mine, and mine the Guilt. + +_Enter INDIANS with stakes, hatchets, and firebrands._ + +Oh, horrid Preparation, more than Death! + +PONTEACH. + +Plant down the Stakes, and let them be confin'd: + [_They loose them from each other._ +First kill the Tygers, then destroy their Whelps. + +PHILIP. + +This Brat is in our Way, I will dispatch it. + [_Offering to snatch the sucking infant._ + +MRS. HONNYMAN. + +No, my dear Babe shall in my Bosom die; +There is its Nourishment, and there its End. + +PHILIP. + +Die both together then, 'twill mend the Sport; +Tie the other to his Father, make a Pair; +Then each will have a Consort in their Pains; +Their sweet Brats with them, to increase the Dance. + [_They are tied down, facing each other upon their knees, and + their backs to the stakes._ + +WARRIOR. + +All now is ready; they are bound secure. + +PHILIP. + +Whene'er you please, their jovial Dance begins. [_To PONTEACH._ + +MRS. HONNYMAN. + +Oh, my dear Husband! What a Sight is this! +Could ever fabling Poet draw Distress +To such Perfection! Sad Catastrophe! +There are not Colours for such deep-dyed Woe, +Nor words expressive of such heighten'd Anguish. +Ourselves, our Babes, O cruel, cruel Fate! +This, this is Death indeed with all its Terrors. + +HONNYMAN. + +Is there no secret Pity in your Minds? +Can you not feel some tender Passion move, +When you behold the Innocent distress'd? +True, I am guilty, and will bear your Tortures: +Take your Revenge by all the Arts of Torment; +Invent new Torments, lengthen out my Woe, +And let me feel the keenest Edge of Pain: +But spare this innocent afflicted Woman, +Those smiling Babes who never yet thought Ill, +They never did nor ever will offend you. + +PHILIP. + +It cannot be: They are akin to you. +Well learnt to hunt and murder, kill and rob. + +PONTEACH. + +Who ever spar'd a Serpent in the Egg? +Or left young Tygers quiet in their Den? + +WARRIOR. + +Or cherishes young Vipers in his Bosom? + +PHILIP. + +Begin, begin; I'll lead the merry Dance. + [_Offering at the woman with a firebrand._ + +PONTEACH. + +Stop: Are we not unwise to kill this Woman? +Or Sacrifice her Children to our Vengeance? +They have not wrong'd us; can't do present Mischief. +I know her Friends; they're rich and powerful, +And in their Turn will take severe Revenge: +But if we spare, they'll hold themselves oblig'd, +And purchase their Redemption with rich Presents. +Is not this better than an Hour's Diversion, +To hear their Groans, and Plaints, and piteous Cries? + +WARRIORS. + +Your Counsel's wise, and much deserves our Praise; +They shall be spar'd. + +PONTEACH. + +Untie, and take them hence; + [_They untie the woman and the oldest child from HONNYMAN, + and retire a little to consult his death._ +When the War ends her Friends shall pay us for it. + +PHILIP. + +I'd rather have the Sport than all the Pay. + +HONNYMAN. + +O, now, kind Heaven, thou hast heard my Prayer, +And what's to follow I can meet with Patience. + +MRS. HONNYMAN. + +Oh, my dear husband, could you too be freed! [_Weeping._ +Yet must I stay and suffer Torments with you. +This seeming Mercy is but Cruelty! +I cannot leave you in this Scene of Woe, +'Tis easier far to stay and die together! + +HONNYMAN. + +Ah! but regard our Children's Preservation: +Conduct their Youth, and form their Minds to Virtue; +Nor let them know their Father's wretched End, +Lest lawless Vengeance should betray them too. + +MRS. HONNYMAN. + +If I must live, I must retire from hence, +Nor see your fearful Agonies in Death; +This would be more than all the Train of Torments. +The horrid Sight would sink me to the Dust; +These helpless Infants would become a Prey +To worse than Beasts, to savage, bloody Men. + +HONNYMAN. + +Leave me--They are prepar'd, and coming on-- +Heav'n save you all! Oh, 'tis the last dear Sight! + +MRS. HONNYMAN. + +Oh, may we meet where Fear and Grief are banish'd! +Dearest of Men, adieu--Adieu till then. + [_Exit, weeping with her children._ + +PHILIP. + +Bring Fire and Knives, and Clubs, and Hatchets all; +Let the old Hunter feel the Smart of Pain. + [_They fall upon HONNYMAN with various instruments of torture._ + +HONNYMAN. + +Oh! this is exquisite! [_Groaning and struggling._ + +1ST WARRIOR. + +Hah! Does this make you dance? + +2ND WARRIOR. + +This is fine fat Game! + +PHILIP. + +Make him caper. [_Striking him with a club, kicking, &c._ + +HONNYMAN. + +O ye eternal Powers, that rule on high, +If in your Minds be Sense of human Woe, +Hear my Complaints, and pity my Distress! + +PHILIP. + +Ah, call upon your Gods, you faint-heart Coward! + +HONNYMAN. + +Oh, dreadful Racks! When will this Torment end? +Oh, for a Respite from all Sense of Pain! +'Tis come--I go--You can--no more torment. [_Dies._ + +PHILIP. + +He's dead; he'll hunt no more; h' 'as done with Game. + [_Striking the dead body, and spitting in the face._ + +PONTEACH. + +Drive hence his wretched Spirit, lest it plague us; +Let him go hunt the Woods; he's now disarm'd. + [_They run round brushing the walls, &c., to dislodge the spirit._ + +ALL. + +Out, Hunter, out, your Business here is done. +Out to the Wilds, but do not take your Gun. + +PONTEACH [_to the Spirit_]. + +Go, tell our Countrymen, whose Blood you shed, +That the great Hunter Honnyman is dead: +That we're alive, we'll make the English know, +Whene'er they dare to serve us Indians so: +This will be joyful News to Friends from France, +We'll join the Chorus then, and have a Dance. + [_Exeunt omnes, dancing, and singing the last two lines._ + +_End of the Fourth Act._ + + + + +ACT V. + + +SCENE I. _The Border of a Grove, in which MONELIA and TORAX are +asleep._ + +_Enter PHILIP [speaking to himself]._ + +As a dark Tempest brewing in the Air, +For many Days hides Sun and Moon, and Stars, +At length grown ripe, bursts forth and forms a Flood +That frights both Men and Beasts, and drowns the Land; +So my dark Purpose now must have its Birth, +Long nourish'd in my Bosom, 'tis matur'd, +And ready to astonish and embroil +Kings and their Kingdoms, and decide their Fates. +Are they not here? Have I delay'd too long? [_He espies them asleep._ +Yes, in a Posture too beyond my Hopes, +Asleep! This is the Providence of Fate, +And proves she patronizes my Design, +And I'll show her that Philip is no Coward. + [_Taking up his hatchet in one hand, and scalping knife in + the other, towards them._] +A Moment now is more than Years to come: +Intrepid as I am, the Work is shocking. [_He retreats from them._ +Is it their Innocence that shakes my Purpose? +No; I can tear the Suckling from the Breast, +And drink their Blood who never knew a Crime. +Is it because my Brother's Charmer dies? +That cannot be, for that is my Revenge. +Is it because Monelia is a Woman? +I've long been blind and deaf to their Enchantments. +Is it because I take them thus unguarded? +No; though I act the Coward, it's a Secret. +What is it shakes my firm and fix'd Resolve? +'Tis childish Weakness: I'll not be unman'd. + [_Approaches and retreats again._ +There's something awful in the Face of Princes, +And he that sheds their Blood, assaults the Gods: +But I'm a Prince, and 'tis by me they die; + [_Advances arm'd as before._ +Each Hand contains the Fate of future Kings, +And, were they Gods, I would not balk my Purpose. + [_Stabs MONELIA with the knife._ + +TORAX. + +Hah! Philip, are you come? What can you mean? + [_TORAX starts and cries out._ + +PHILIP. + +Go learn my Meaning in the World of Spirits; + [_Knocks him down with his hatchet, &c._ +'Tis now too late to make a Question of it. +The Play is ended [_Looking upon the bodies_], now succeeds the Farce. +Hullo! Help! Haste! the Enemy is here. + [_Calling at one of the doors, and returning._ +Help is at Hand--But I must first be wounded: [_Wounds himself._ +Now let the Gods themselves detect the Fraud. + +_Enter an INDIAN._ + +INDIAN. + +What means your Cry? Is any Mischief here? + +PHILIP. + +Behold this flowing Blood; a desperate Wound! [_Shewing his wound._ +And there's a Deed that shakes the Root of Empires. + [_Pointing to the bodies._ + +2ND INDIAN. + +Oh, fatal Sight! the Mohawk Prince is murder'd. + +3RD INDIAN. + +The Princess too is weltering in her Blood. + +PHILIP. + +Both, both are gone; 'tis well that I escap'd. + +_Enter PONTEACH._ + +PONTEACH. + +What means this Outcry, Noise, and Tumult here? + +PHILIP. + +Oh see, my Father! see the Blood of Princes, +A Sight that might provoke the Gods to weep, +And drown the Country in a Flood of Tears. +Great was my Haste, but could not stop the Deed; +I rush'd among their Numbers for Revenge, +They frighted fled; there I receiv'd this Wound. + [_Shewing his wound to PONTEACH._ + +PONTEACH. + +Who, what were they? or where did they escape? + +PHILIP. + +A Band of English Warriors, bloody Dogs! +This Way they ran from my vindictive Arm, [_Pointing, &c._ +Which but for this base Wound would sure have stopp'd them. + +PONTEACH. + +Pursue, pursue, with utmost Speed pursue, [_To the WARRIORS present._ +Outfly the Wind till you revenge this Blood; +'Tis royal Blood, we count it as our own. [_Exeunt WARRIORS in haste._ +This Scene is dark, and doubtful the Event; +Some great Decree of Fate depends upon it, +And mighty Good or Ill awaits Mankind. +The Blood of Princes cannot flow in vain, +The Gods must be in Council to permit it: +It is the Harbinger of their Designs, +To change, new-mould, and alter Things on Earth: +And much I fear, 'tis ominous of Ill, +To me and mine; it happen'd in my Kingdom. +Their Father's Rage will swell into a Torrent-- +They were my Guests--His Wrath will centre here; +Our guilty Land hath drunk his Children's Blood. + +PHILIP. + +Had I not seen the flying Murderers, +Myself been wounded to revenge their Crime, +Had you not hasten'd to pursue the assassins, +He might have thought us treacherous and false, +Or wanting in our hospitable Care: +But now it cannot but engage his Friendship, +Rouse him to Arms, and with a Father's Rage +He'll point his Vengeance where it ought to fall; +And thus this Deed, though vile and dark as Night, +In its Events will open Day upon us, +And prove of great Advantage to our State. + +PONTEACH. + +Haste then; declare our Innocence and Grief; +Tell the old King we mourn as for our own, +And are determin'd to revenge his Wrongs; +Assure him that our Enemies are his, +And rouse him like a Tyger to the Prey. + +PHILIP. + +I will with Speed; but first this bleeding Wound +Demands my Care, lest you lament me too. + [_Exit, to have his wound dress'd._ + +PONTEACH [_solus_]. + +Pale, breathless Youths! Your Dignity still lives: + [_Viewing the bodies._ +Your Murderers were blind, or they'd have trembled, +Nor dar'd to wound such Majesty and Worth; +It would have tam'd the savage running Bear, +And made the raging Tyger fondly fawn; +But your more savage Murderers were Christians. +Oh, the distress'd good King! I feel for him, +And wish to comfort his desponding Heart; +But your last Rites require my present Care. [_Exit._ + + +SCENE II. _The Senate-House._ + +_PONTEACH, TENESCO, and others._ + +PONTEACH. + +Let all be worthy of the royal Dead; +Spare no Expense to grace th' unhappy Scene, +And aggrandize the solemn, gloomy Pomp +With all our mournful, melancholy Rites. + +TENESCO. + +It shall be done; all Things are now preparing. + +PONTEACH. + +Never were Funeral Rites bestow'd more just; +Who knew them living, must lament them dead; +Who sees them dead, must wish to grace their Tombs +With all the sad Respect of Grief and Tears. + +TENESCO. + +The Mourning is as general as the News; +Grief sits on every Face, in every Eye, +And gloomy Melancholy in Silence reigns: +Nothing is heard but Sighs and sad Complaints, +As if the First-born of the Realm were slain. + +PONTEACH. + +Thus would I have it; let no Eye be dry +No Heart unmov'd, let every Bosom swell +With Sighs and Groans. What Shouting do I hear? + [_A shouting without, repeated several times._ + +TENESCO. + +It is the Shout of Warriors from the Battle; +The Sound of Victory and great Success. [_He goes to listen to it._ + +PONTEACH. + +Such is the State of Men and human Things; +We weep, we smile, we mourn, and laugh thro' Life, +Here falls a Blessing, there alights a Curse, +As the good Genius or the evil reigns. +It's right it should be so. Should either conquer, +The World would cease, and Mankind be undone +By constant Frowns or Flatteries from Fate; +This constant Mixture makes the Potion safe, +And keeps the sickly Mind of Man in Health. + +_Enter CHEKITAN._ + +It is my Son. What has been your Success? + +CHEKITAN. + +We've fought the Enemy, broke thro' their Ranks, +Slain many on the Spot, pursu'd the rest +Till Night conceal'd and sav'd them from our Arms. + +PONTEACH. + +'Tis bravely done, and shall be duly honour'd +With all the Signs and Marks of public Joy. + +CHEKITAN. + +What means this Gloom I see in every Face? +These smother'd Groans and stifled half-drawn Sighs; +Does it offend that I've return'd in Triumph? + +PONTEACH. + +I fear to name--And yet it must be known. [_Aside._ +Be not alarm'd, my Son, the Laws of Fate +Must be obey'd: She will not hear our Dictates. +I'm not a Stranger to your youthful Passion, +And fear the Disappointment will confound you. + +CHEKITAN. + +Has he not sped? Has ill befell my Brother? + +PONTEACH. + +Yes, he is wounded but--Monelia's slain, +And Torax both. Slain by the cowardly English, +Who 'scap'd your Brother's wounded threat'ning Arm, +But are pursued by such as will revenge it.-- + +CHEKITAN. + +Oh wretched, wretched, wretched Chekitan! [_Aside._ + +PONTEACH. + +I know you're shock'd--The Scene has shock'd us all, +And what we could, we've done to wipe the Stain +From us, our Family, our Land and State; +And now prepare due Honours for the Dead, +With all the solemn Pomp of public Grief, +To shew Respect as if they were our own. + +CHEKITAN. + +Is this my Triumph after Victory? +A solemn, dreadful pompous Shew: +Why have I 'scap'd their Swords and liv'd to see it? [_Aside._ +Monelia dead! aught else I could have borne: +I'm stupefy'd: I can't believe it true; +Shew me the Dead; I will believe my Eyes, +But cannot mourn or drop a Tear till then. + +TENESCO. + +I will conduct you to them--Follow me-- + [_Exeunt TENESCO and CHEKITAN._ + +PONTEACH. + +This is a sad Reception from a Conquest, +And puts an awful Gloom upon our Joy; +I fear his Grief will overtop his Reason; +A Lover weeps with more than common Pain. +Nor flows his greatest Sorrow at his Eyes: +His Grief is inward, and his Heart sheds Tears, +And in his Soul he feels the pointed Woe, +When he beholds the lovely Object lost. +The deep-felt Wound admits no sudden Cure; +The festering Humour will not be dispers'd, +It gathers on the Mind, and Time alone, +That buries all Things, puts an End to this. [_Exeunt omnes._ + + +SCENE III. _The Grove, with the dead bodies; TENESCO pointing CHEKITAN +to them._ + +TENESCO. + +There lie the Bodies, Prince, a wretched Sight! +Breathless and pale. + +CHEKITAN. + +A wretched Sight indeed; [_Going towards them._ +Oh, my Monelia; has thy Spirit fled? +Art thou no more? a bloody, breathless Corpse! +Am I return'd full flush'd with Hopes of Joy, +With all the Honours Victory can give, +To see thee thus? Is this, is this my Welcome? +Is this our Wedding? Wilt thou not return? +Oh, charming Princess, art thou gone for ever? +Is this the fatal Period of our Love? +Oh! had I never seen thy Beauty bloom, +I had not now been griev'd to see it pale: +Had I not known such Excellence had liv'd, +I should not now be curs'd to see it dead: +Had not my Heart been melted by thy Charms, +It would not now have bled to see them lost. +Oh, wherefore, wherefore, wherefore do I live: +Monelia is not--What's the World to me? +All dark and gloomy, horrid, waste, and void: +The Light of the Creation is put out!-- +The Blessings of the Gods are all withdrawn! +Nothing remains but Wretchedness and Woe; +Monelia's gone; Monelia is no more. +The Heavens are veil'd because she don't behold them: +The Earth is curs'd, for it hath drunk her Blood; +The Air is Poison, for she breathes no more: +Why fell I not by the base Briton's Sword? +Why press'd I not upon the fatal Point? +Then had I never seen this worse than Death, +But dying said, 'tis well--Monelia lives. + +TENESCO. + +Comfort, my Prince, nor let your Passion swell +To such a Torrent, it o'erwhelms your Reason, +And preys upon the Vitals of your Soul. +You do but feed the Viper by this View; +Retire, and drive the Image from your Thought, +And Time will soon replace your every Joy. + +CHEKITAN. + +O my Tenesco, had you ever felt +The gilded Sweets, or pointed Pains of Love, +You'd not attempt to sooth a Grief like mine. +Why did you point me to the painful Sight? +Why have you shown this Shipwreck of my Hopes, +And plac'd me in this beating Storm of Woe? +Why was I told of my Monelia's Fate? +Why wa'n't the wretched Ruin all conceal'd +Under some fair Pretence--That she had fled-- +Was made a Captive, or had chang'd her Love-- +Why wa'n't I left to guess her wretched End? +Or have some slender Hope that she still liv'd? +You've all been cruel; she died to torment me; +To raise my Pain, and blot out every Joy.-- + +TENESCO. + +I fear'd as much: His Passion makes him wild-- [_Aside._ +I wish it may not end in perfect Frenzy. + +CHEKITAN. + +Who were the Murderers? Where did they fly? +Where was my Brother, not to take Revenge? +Show me their Tracks, I'll trace them round the Globe; +I'll fly like Lightning, ravage the whole Earth-- +Kill every thing I meet, or hear, or see. +Depopulate the World of Men and Beasts, +'Tis all too little for that single Death. + [_Pointing to MONELIA'S corpse._ +I'll tear the Earth that dar'd to drink her Blood; +Kill Trees, and Plants, and every springing Flower: +Nothing shall grow, nothing shall be alive, +Nothing shall move; I'll try to stop the Sun, +And make all dark and barren, dead and sad; +From his tall Sphere down to the lowest Centre, +There I'll descend, and hide my wretched Self, +And reign sole Monarch in a World of Ruin. + +TENESCO. + +This is deep Madness, it hath seiz'd his Brain. [_Aside._ + +CHEKITAN. + +But first I'll snatch a parting last Embrace. + [_He touches and goes to embrace the corpse._ +Thou dear cold Clay! forgive the daring Touch; +It is thy Chekitan, thy wounded Lover. +'Tis; and he hastens to revenge thy Death. + [_TORAX groans and attempts to speak._ + +TORAX. + +Oh, oh, I did not--Philip--Philip--Oh. [_CHEKITAN starts._ + +CHEKITAN. + +What--did I not hear a Groan? and Philip call'd? + +TENESCO. + +It was, it was, and there is Motion too. + [_Approaches TORAX, who groans and speaks again._ + +TORAX. + +Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh! Philip--help. Oh! Oh! + +TENESCO. + +He is alive--We'll raise him from the Ground. + [_They lift him up, and speak to him._ +Torax, are you alive? or are our Ears deceiv'd? + +TORAX. + +Oh. Philip, do not--do not--be so cruel. + +CHEKITAN. + +He is bewilder'd, and not yet himself. +Pour this into his Lips--it will revive him. + [_They give him something._ + +TENESCO. + +This is a Joy unhop'd for in Distress. [_TORAX revives more._ + +TORAX. + +Oh! Philip, Philip!--Where is Philip gone? + +TENESCO. + +The Murderers are pursued--He will go soon. +And now can carry Tidings of your Life. + +TORAX. + +He carry Tidings! he's the Murderer. + +TENESCO. + +He is not murder'd; he was slightly wounded, +And hastens now to see the King your Father. + +TORAX. + +He is false, a barbarous, bloody Man, +A Murderer, a base disguis'd Assassin. + +CHEKITAN. + +He still is maz'd, and knows not whom he's with + +TORAX. + +Yes, you are Chekitan, and that's Monelia. [_Pointing to the corpse._ +This is Tenesco--Philip stabb'd my Sister, +And struck at me; here was the stunning Blow. [_Pointing to his head._ +He took us sleeping in this silent Grove; +There by Appointment from himself we waited. +I saw him draw the bloody Knife from her, +And, starting, ask'd him, Why, or what he meant? +He answered with the Hatchet on my Skull, +And doubtless thought me dead and bound in Silence. +I am myself, and what I say is Fact. + +TENESCO. + +The English 'twas beset you; Philip ran +For your Assistance, and himself is wounded. + +TORAX. + +He may be wounded, but he wounded me; +No Englishman was there, he was alone. +I dare confront him with his Villainy: +Depend upon 't, he's treacherous, false, and bloody. + +CHEKITAN. + +May we believe, or is this all a Dream? +Are we awake? Is Torax yet alive? +Or is it Juggling, Fascination all? + +TENESCO. + +'Tis most surprising! What to judge I know not. +I'll lead him hence; perhaps he's still confus'd. + +TORAX. + +I gladly will go hence for some Relief, +But shall not change, from what I've now aver'd. + +TENESCO. + +Then this sad Storm of Ruin 's but begun. [_Aside._ +Philip must fly, or next it lights on him. + [_Exeunt TENESCO and TORAX led by him._ + +CHEKITAN. + +And can this be--Can Philip be so false? +Dwells there such Baseness in a Brother's Heart? +So much Dissimulation in the Earth? +Is there such Perfidy among Mankind? +It shocks my Faith--But yet it must be so-- +Yes, it was he, Monelia, shed thy Blood. +This made him forward to commence our Friend, +And with unusual Warmth engage to help us; +It was for this so cheerful he resign'd +To me the Honour of Command in War; +The English Troops would never come so near; +The Wounds were not inflicted by their Arms. +All, all confirms the Guilt on Philip's Head. +You died, Monelia, by my Brother's Hand; +A Brother too intrusted with our Love. +I'm stupify'd and senseless at the Thought; +My Head, my very Heart is petrify'd. +This adds a Mountain to my Weight of Woe. +It now is swell'd too high to be lamented; +Complaints, and Sighs, and Tears are thrown away, +Revenge is all the Remedy that's left; +But what Revenge is equal to the Crime? +His Life for her's! An Atom for the Earth-- +A Single Fly--a Mite for the Creation: +Turn where I will I find myself confounded: +But I must seek and study out new Means. +Help me, ye Powers of Vengeance! grant your Aid, +Ye that delight in Blood, and Death, and Pain! +Teach me the Arts of Cruelty and Wrath, +Till I have Vengeance equal to my Love, +And my Monelia's Shade is satisfied. [_Exit._ + + +SCENE IV. + +PHILIP [_solus_]. + +His Grief no Doubt will rise into a Rage, +To see his Charmer rolling in her Blood, +I choose to see him not till my Return; +By then the Fierceness of the Flame may cease; +Nay, he'll grow cool, and quite forget his Love, +When I report her Father's kindled Wrath, +And all the Vengeance he intends to take. [_CHEKITAN comes in sight._ +But this is he, I cannot now avoid him; +How shall I soothe his Grief--He looks distracted-- +I'm such a Stranger grown to Tears and Pity, +I fear he will not think I sympathize. + +_Enter CHEKITAN._ + +CHEKITAN. + +Have I then found thee, thou false hearted Traitor? +Thou Tyger, Viper, Snake, thou worse than Christian; +Bloodthirsty Butcher, more than Murderer! +Thou every Thing but what Men ought to love! +Do you still live to breathe and see the Sun? +And face me with your savage guilty Eye? + +PHILIP. + +I fear'd, alas, you would run mad and rave. +Why do you blame me that I am not dead? +I risk'd my Life, was wounded for your Sake, +Did all I could for your Monelia's Safety, +And to revenge you on her Murderers. +Your Grief distracts you, or you'd thank me for 't. + +CHEKITAN. + +Would you still tempt my Rage, and fire my Soul, +Already bent to spill your treacherous Blood? +You base Dissembler! know you are detected, +Torax still lives, and has discover'd all. + [_PHILIP starts and trembles._ + +PHILIP. + +Torax alive!--It cannot--must not be. [_Aside._ + +CHEKITAN. + +Well may you shake--You cannot mend your Blow. +He lived to see, what none but you could think of, +The bloody Knife drawn from Monelia's Breast. +Had you a thousand Lives, they'd be too few; +Had you a Sea of Blood, 't would be too small +To wash away your deep-dy'd Stain of Guilt. +Now you shall die; and Oh, if there be Powers +That after Death take Vengeance on such Crimes, +May they pursue you with their Flames of Wrath, +Till all their Magazines of Pain are spent. + [_He attacks PHILIP with his hatchet._ + +PHILIP. + +I must defend myself [_Drawing his hatchet_], the Case is desperate. + [_Fights; PHILIP falls._ +Fate is too hard; and I'm oblig'd to yield. +'Twas well begun--but has a wretched End-- +Yet I'm reveng'd--She cannot live again. +You cannot boast to 've shed more Blood than I-- +Oh, had I--had I--struck but one Blow more! [_Dies._ + +CHEKITAN. + +What have I done! this is my Brother's Blood! +A guilty Murderer's Blood! He was no Brother. +All Nature's Laws and Ties are hence dissolv'd; +There is no Kindred, Friendship, Faith, or Love +Among Mankind--Monelia's dead--The World +Is all unhing'd--There's universal War-- +She was the Tie, the Centre of the Whole; +And she remov'd, all is one general Jar. +Where next, Monelia, shall I bend my Arm +To heal this Discord, this Disorder still, +And bring the Chaos Universe to Form? +Blood still must flow and float the scatter'd Limbs +Till thy much injur'd love in Peace subsides. +Then every jarring Discord once will cease, +And a new World from these rude Ruins rise. [_Pauses._ +Here then I point the Edge, from hence shall flow + [_Pointing his knife to his heart._ +The raging crimson Flood, this is the Fountain +Whose swift Day's Stream shall waft me to thy Arms, +Lest Philip's Ghost should injure thy Repose. [_Stabs himself._ +I come, I come--Monelia, now I come-- +Philip--away--She's mine in spite of Death. [_Dies._ + +_Enter TENESCO._ + +TENESCO. + +Oh! I'm too late, the fatal Work is done. +Unhappy Princes; this your wretched End; +Your Country's Hopes and your fond Father's Joy; +Are you no more? Slain by each other's Hands, +Or what is worse; or by the Air you breath'd? +For all is Murder, Death, and Blood about us: +Nothing safe; it is contagious all: +The Earth, and Air, and Skies are full of Treason! +The Evil Genius rules the Universe, +And on Mankind rains Tempests of Destruction. +Where will the Slaughter of the Species end? +When it begins with Kings and with their Sons, +A general Ruin threatens all below. +How will the good King hear the sad Report? +I fear th' Event; but as it can't be hid, +I'll bear it to him in the softest Terms, +And summon every Power to soothe his Grief, +And slack the Torrent of his Royal Passion. [_Exit._ + + +SCENE V. _Senate-House._ + +PONTEACH [_solus_]. + +The Torrent rises, and the Tempest blows; +Where will this rough, rude Storm of Ruin end? +What crimson Floods are yet to drench the Earth? +What new-form'd Mischiefs hover in the Air, +And point their Stings at this devoted Head? +Has Fate exhausted all her Stores of Wrath, +Or has she other Vengeance in reserve? +What can she more? My Sons, my Name is gone; +My Hopes all blasted, my Delights all fled; +Nothing remains but an afflicted King, +That might be pitied by Earth's greatest Wretch. +My Friends; my Sons, ignobly, basely slain, +Are more than murder'd, more than lost by Death. +Had they died fighting in their Country's Cause, +I should have smil'd and gloried in their Fall; +Yes, boasting that I had such Sons to lose, +I would have rode in Triumph o'er their Tombs. +But thus to die, the Martyrs of their Folly, +Involv'd in all the complicated Guilt +Of Treason, Murder, Falsehood, and Deceit, +Unbridled Passion, Cowardice, Revenge, +And every Thing that can debase the Man, +And render him the just Contempt of all, +And fix the foulest Stain of Infamy, +Beyond the Power of Time to blot it out; +This is too much; and my griev'd Spirit sinks +Beneath the Weight of such gigantic Woe. +Ye that would see a piteous, wretched King, +Look on a Father griev'd and curs'd like me; +Look on a King whose Sons have died like mine! +Then you'll confess that these are dangerous Names, +And put it in the Power of Fate to curse us; +It is on such she shews her highest Spite. +But I'm too far--'Tis not a Time to grieve +For private Losses, when the Public calls. + +_Enter TENESCO, looking sorrowful._ + +What are your Tidings?--I have no more Sons. + +TENESCO. + +But you have Subjects, and regard their Safety. +The treacherous Priest, intrusted with your Councils, +Has publish'd all, and added his own Falsehoods; +The Chiefs have all revolted from your Cause, +Patch'd up a Peace, and lend their Help no more. + +PONTEACH. + +And is this all? we must defend ourselves, +Supply the Place of Numbers with our Courage, +And learn to conquer with our very Looks: +This is a Time that tries the Truth of Valour; +He shows his Courage that dares stem the Storm, +And live in spite of Violence and Fate. +Shall holy Perfidy and seeming Lies +Destroy our Purpose, sink us into Cowards? + +TENESCO. + +May your Hopes prosper! I'll excite the Troops +By your Example still to keep the Field. [_Exit._ + +PONTEACH. + +'Tis coming on. Thus Wave succeeds to Wave, +Till the Storm's spent, then all subsides again-- +The Chiefs revolted:--My Design betray'd:-- +May he that trusts a Christian meet the same; +They have no Faith, no Honesty, no God, +And cannot merit Confidence from Men. +Were I alone the boist'rous Tempest's Sport, +I'd quickly move my shatter'd, trembling Bark, +And follow my departed Sons to Rest. +But my brave Countrymen, my Friends, my Subjects, +Demand my Care: I'll not desert the Helm, +Nor leave a dang'rous Station in Distress; +Yes, I will live, in spite of Fate I'll live; +Was I not Ponteach, was I not a King, +Such Giant Mischiefs would not gather round me. +And since I'm Ponteach, since I am a King, +I'll shew myself Superior to them all; +I'll rise above this Hurricane of Fate, +And shew my Courage to the Gods themselves. + +_Enter TENESCO, surprised and pausing._ + +I am prepar'd, be not afraid to tell; +You cannot speak what Ponteach dare not hear. + +TENESCO. + +Our bravest Troops are slain, the rest pursu'd; +All is Disorder, Tumult, and Rebellion. +Those that remain insist on speedy Flight; +You must attend them, or be left alone +Unto the Fury of a conquering Foe, +Nor will they long expect your Royal Pleasure. + +PONTEACH. + +Will they desert their King in such an Hour, +When Pity might induce them to protect him? +Kings like the Gods are valued and ador'd, +When Men expect their Bounties in Return, +Place them in Want, destroy the giving Power, +All Sacrifices and Regards will cease. +Go, tell my Friends that I'll attend their Call. + [_Rising. Exit TENESCO._ +I will not fear--but must obey my Stars: [_Looking round._ +Ye fertile Fields and glad'ning Streams, adieu; +Ye Fountains that have quench'd my scorching Thirst, +Ye Shades that hid the Sun-beams from my Head, +Ye Groves and Hills that yielded me the Chace, +Ye flow'ry Meads, and Banks, and bending Trees, +And thou proud Earth, made drunk with Royal Blood, +I am no more your Owner and your King. +But witness for me to your new base Lords, +That my unconquer'd Mind defies them still; +And though I fly, 'tis on the Wings of Hope. +Yes, I will hence where there's no British Foe, +And wait a Respite from this Storm of Woe; +Beget more Sons, fresh Troops collect and arm, +And other Schemes of future Greatness form; +Britons may boast, the Gods may have their Will, +Ponteach I am, and shall be Ponteach still. [_Exit._ + +_Finis._ + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Ponteach, by Robert Rogers + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PONTEACH *** + +***** This file should be named 29223-8.txt or 29223-8.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/9/2/2/29223/ + +Produced by David Starner, Brownfox and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. Project +Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you +charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. If you +do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the +rules is very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose +such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and +research. They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do +practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks. Redistribution is +subject to the trademark license, especially commercial +redistribution. + + + +*** START: FULL LICENSE *** + +THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE +PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK + +To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free +distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work +(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project +Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project +Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at +http://gutenberg.org/license). + + +Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic works + +1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to +and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property +(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all +the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy +all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession. +If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the +terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or +entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. + +1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be +used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who +agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few +things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works +even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See +paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement +and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. See paragraph 1.E below. + +1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation" +or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual works in the +collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an +individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are +located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from +copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative +works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg +are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the Project +Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by +freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of +this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with +the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by +keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project +Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others. + +1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern +what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in +a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check +the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement +before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or +creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project +Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no representations concerning +the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United +States. + +1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: + +1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate +access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently +whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the +phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project +Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed, +copied or distributed: + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + +1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived +from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is +posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied +and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees +or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a work +with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the +work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 +through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the +Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or +1.E.9. + +1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted +with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution +must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional +terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms will be linked +to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the +permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work. + +1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this +work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. + +1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this +electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without +prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with +active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project +Gutenberg-tm License. + +1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, +compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any +word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or +distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than +"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version +posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org), +you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a +copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon +request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other +form. Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. + +1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, +performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works +unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. + +1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing +access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided +that + +- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from + the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method + you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is + owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he + has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the + Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments + must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you + prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax + returns. Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and + sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the + address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to + the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation." + +- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies + you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he + does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm + License. You must require such a user to return or + destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium + and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of + Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any + money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the + electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days + of receipt of the work. + +- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free + distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set +forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from +both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael +Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the +Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. + +1.F. + +1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable +effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread +public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm +collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain +"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or +corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual +property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a +computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by +your equipment. + +1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right +of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project +Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all +liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal +fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT +LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE +PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH F3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE +TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE +LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR +INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH +DAMAGE. + +1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a +defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can +receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a +written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you +received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with +your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with +the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a +refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity +providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to +receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy +is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further +opportunities to fix the problem. + +1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth +in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS' WITH NO OTHER +WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO +WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. + +1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied +warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages. +If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the +law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be +interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by +the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any +provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions. + +1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the +trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone +providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance +with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production, +promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works, +harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees, +that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do +or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm +work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any +Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause. + + +Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm + +Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of +electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers +including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists +because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from +people in all walks of life. + +Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the +assistance they need, are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's +goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will +remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure +and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations. +To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation +and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4 +and the Foundation web page at http://www.pglaf.org. + + +Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive +Foundation + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit +501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the +state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal +Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification +number is 64-6221541. Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at +http://pglaf.org/fundraising. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent +permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. + +The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S. +Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered +throughout numerous locations. Its business office is located at +809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email +business@pglaf.org. Email contact links and up to date contact +information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official +page at http://pglaf.org + +For additional contact information: + Dr. Gregory B. Newby + Chief Executive and Director + gbnewby@pglaf.org + + +Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation + +Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide +spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of +increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be +freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest +array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations +($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt +status with the IRS. + +The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating +charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United +States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a +considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up +with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations +where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To +SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any +particular state visit http://pglaf.org + +While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we +have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition +against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who +approach us with offers to donate. + +International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make +any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from +outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. + +Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation +methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other +ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. +To donate, please visit: http://pglaf.org/donate + + +Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. + +Professor Michael S. Hart is the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm +concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared +with anyone. For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project +Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support. + + +Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S. +unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + http://www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. |