Chekitan Monologue from Ponteach; Or, The Savages of America

From Ponteach; Or, The Savages of America by Robert Rogers

male · dark · 1:02 min

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.) 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.)

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