Ponteach Part 14

PONTEACH.

Are all the Chiefs and Warriors here a.s.sembled, 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 pa.s.sing 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 s.h.i.+ps, their Magazines of Death and Vengeance, And, what is more, I've seen their potent King, Who like a G.o.d 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.