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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 a.s.sailants 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 Friends.h.i.+p 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 r.e.t.a.r.d 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 Circ.u.mstance 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, n.o.ble 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 Suns.h.i.+ne 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 Pa.s.s, 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 Va.s.sal 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 a.s.sert 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 a.s.sistance; 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.