Philip Monologue from Ponteach; Or, The Savages of America

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

male · defiant · 1:15 min

But why so much of Mischiefs that may happen? These are mere Possibilities at most; Creatures of Thought, which ne'er can be Objections, In valiant Minds, to any great Attempt; They're empty Echoes of a tim'rous Soul, Like Bubbles driv'n by the tempestuous Storm, The Breath of Resolution sweeps them off. Nor dost thou judge them solid from thy Heart, I know the secret Motive in thy Breast, Thus to oppose our Father's great Design, And from an Undertaking to dissuade, In which thou'lt share the Profit and the Glory. Hendrick, the King of Mohawks, hath a Daughter, With whom I saw you dallying in the Shade, And thought you then a Captive to her Charms. The bright Monelia hangs upon thy Heart, And softens all the Passions of thy Soul; Her thou think'st lost should we proclaim a War, In which the King her Father will not join.

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