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But we shall ne'er suspect your t.i.tle 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.
