  Scene I. The Border of a Grove. Enter Tenesco to Philip and Chekitan. Tenesco. 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. [ToTenesco. 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. [ExeuntTenescoandPhilip. 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; 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. [NoiseofMoneliastrivingbehindthescene. What Sound is that?—It is Monelia's Voice;And in Distress—What Monster gives her Pain? [Goingtowardsthesound,theSceneopensanddiscoversthe Priestwithher. 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? [Seizinghim. Are you a Christian Priest? What do you here?[Pusheshim. 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? [Makingtowardshim. Monelia. Oh I am faint—You have preserv'd my Honour, Which he, foul Christian, thirsted to destroy. [Priestattemptstogo. Chekitan. Stay; leave your Life to expiate your Crime: Your heated Blood shall pay for your Presumption. [Offeringtostrikehimwithahatchet. 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. [SteppingtowardsthePriesttohurryhim. 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. 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 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. 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. [EnteraMessenger. Messenger. Huzza! for our brave Warriors are return'd Loaded with Plunder and the Scalps of Christians. [EnterWarriors. 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: [Holdingoutthetwoscalps. 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. [Holdingoutthescalps,whichPonteachtakes. Our Men are loaded with their Furs again,And other Plunder from the Villains' Stores. Ponteach. All this is brave! [Tossingupthescalps,whichotherscatch,and tossandthrowthemabout. 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; [Shoutingwithout. 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. [Tossingitup. 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; [Leadingthemforward,pinionedandtiedtogether. 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! [SlappingHonnymanintheface,andkickinghiswife. 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. [ExeuntIndians;manentPrisoners. 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: 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 [Lookinguponherinfant. 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; At this last Anguish of a Mother's Soul. [Pauses,andviewsherchildagain. Sweet Innocent! It smiles at this Distress,And fondly draws this final Comfort from me: Dear Babe, no more: Dear Tommy too must die, [Lookingatherotherchild. 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! [Lookinguponhim. 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? 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. 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. [Deathhallooisheardwithout. 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: [Theyloosethemfromeachother. First kill the Tygers, then destroy their Whelps.Philip. This Brat is in our Way, I will dispatch it. [Offeringtosnatchthesuckinginfant. 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. [Theyaretieddown,facingeachotherupontheirknees,and theirbackstothestakes. Warrior. All now is ready; they are bound secure. Philip. Whene'er you please, their jovial Dance begins. [ToPonteach. 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. [Offeringatthewomanwithafirebrand. 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, 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; [TheyuntiethewomanandtheoldestchildfromHonnyman, andretirealittletoconsulthisdeath. 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; 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,weepingwithherchildren. Philip. Bring Fire and Knives, and Clubs, and Hatchets all; Let the old Hunter feel the Smart of Pain. [TheyfalluponHonnymanwithvariousinstrumentsoftorture. Honnyman. Oh! this is exquisite! [Groaningandstruggling. 1st Warrior. Hah! Does this make you dance? 2nd Warrior. This is fine fat Game! Philip. Make him caper. [Strikinghimwithaclub,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. [Strikingthedeadbody,andspittingintheface. Ponteach. Drive hence his wretched Spirit, lest it plague us; Let him go hunt the Woods; he's now disarm'd. [Theyrunroundbrushingthewalls,&c.,todislodgethespirit. 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. [Exeuntomnes,dancing,andsingingthelasttwolines. End of the Fourth Act. |
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