Ponteach Monologue from Ponteach; Or, The Savages of America

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

male · anguished · 1:04 min

I fear to name--And yet it must be known. [ (Aside.) Be not alarm'd, my Son, the Laws of Fate Must be obey'd: She will not hear our Dictates. I'm not a Stranger to your youthful Passion, And fear the Disappointment will confound you. (CHEKITAN: Has he not sped? Has ill befell my Brother?) Yes, he is wounded but--Monelia's slain, And Torax both. Slain by the cowardly English, Who 'scap'd your Brother's wounded threat'ning Arm, But are pursued by such as will revenge it.-- (CHEKITAN: Oh wretched, wretched, wretched Chekitan!) I know you're shock'd--The Scene has shock'd us all, And what we could, we've done to wipe the Stain From us, our Family, our Land and State; And now prepare due Honours for the Dead, With all the solemn Pomp of public Grief, To shew Respect as if they were our own.

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