Prophet Monologue from Tecumseh : a Drama

From Tecumseh : a Drama by Charles Mair

male · dramatic · 1:22 min

He is called LEFROY-- A captive, but too free to come and go. Our warriors struck his trail by chance, and found His tent close by the Wabash, where he lay With sprained ankle, foodless and alone. He had a book of pictures with him there Of Long-Knife forts, encampments and their chiefs-- Most recognizable; so, reasoning thence, Our warriors took him for a daring spy, And brought him here, and tied him to the stake. Then he declared he was a Saganash-- No Long-Knife he! but one who loved our race, And would adopt our ways--with honeyed words, Couched in sweet voice, and such appealing eyes That Iena, our niece--who listened near-- Believing, rushed, and cut him from the tree. I hate his smiles, soft ways, and smooth-paced tread, And would, ere now, have killed him but for her; For ever since, unmindful of her race, She has upheld him, and our matrons think That he has won her heart.

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