Tecumseh: A Drama | Page 3

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.
TECUMSEH. But not her hand! This cannot be, and I must?see to it:?Red shall not marry white--such is our law.?But graver matters are upon the wing,?Which I must open to you. Know you, then,?The nation that has doomed our Council-Fires--?Splashed with our blood--will on its Father turn,?Once more, whose lion-paws, stretched o'er the sea,?Will sheathe their nails in its unnatural tides,?Till blood will flow, as free as pitch in spring,?To gum the chafed seams of our sinking bark.?This opportunity, well-nursed, will give?A respite to our wrongs, and heal our wounds;?And all our nations, knit by me and ranged?In headship with our Saganash allies,?Will turn the mortal issue 'gainst our foes,?And wall our threatened frontiers with their slain.?But till that ripened moment, not a sheaf?Of arrows should be wasted, not a brave?Should perish aimlessly, nor discord reign?Amongst our tribes, nor jealousy distrain?The large effects of valour. We must now?Pack all our energies. Our eyes and ears?No more must idle with the hour, but work?As carriers to the brain, where we shall store,?As in an arsenal, deep schemes of war!
[A noise and shouting without.]
But who is this?
[Enter_ BARRON accompanied and half-dragged by?warriors. The_ PROPHET _goes forward to meet?him._]
BARRON. I crave protection as a messenger?And agent sent by General Harrison.?Your rude, unruly braves, against my wish,?Have dragged me here as if I were a spy.
PROPHET. What else!?Why come you here if not a spy??Brouillette came, and Dubois, who were spies--?Now you are here. Look on it! There's your grave.
[Pointing to the ground at BARRON'S?feet.]
TECUMSEH. (Joining them.) Unhand this man!?He is a messenger, And not a spy.?Your life, my friend, is safe?In these rough woods as in your general's town.?But, quick--your message?
BARRON. The Governor of Indiana sends?This letter to you, in the which he says (_Reading?letter_)?"You are an enemy to the Seventeen Fires.?I have been told that you intend to lift?The hatchet 'gainst your father, the great Chief,?Whose goodness, being greater than his fear?Or anger at your folly, still would stretch?His bounty to his children who repent,?And ask of him forgiveness for the past.?Small harm is done which may not be repaired,?And friendship's broken chain may be renewed;?But this is in your doing, and depends?Upon the choice you make. Two roads?Are lying now before you: one is large,?Open and pleasant, leading unto peace,?Your own security and happiness;?The other--narrow, crooked and constrained--?Most surely leads to misery and death.?Be not deceived! All your united force?Is but as chaff before the Seventeen Fires.?Your warriors are brave, but so are ours;?Whilst ours are countless as the forest leaves,?Or grains of sand upon the Wabash shores.?Rely not on the English to protect you!?They are not able to protect themselves.?They will not war with us, for, if they do,?Ere many moons have passed our battle flag?Shall wave o'er all the forts of Canada.?What reason have you to complain of us??What have we taken? or what treaties maimed??You tell us we have robbed you of your lands--?Bought them from nameless braves and village chiefs?Who had no right to sell--prove that to us,?And they will be restored. I have full power?To treat with you. Bring your complaint to me,?And I, in honor, pledge your safe return."
TECUMSEH. Is this it all?
BARRON. Yes, all. I have commands?To bear your answer back without delay.
PROPHET. This is our answer, then, to Harrison:?Go tell that bearded liar we shall come,?With forces which will pledge our own return!
TECUMSEH. What shall my answer be?
PROPHET. Why, like my own--There is no answer save?that we shall go.
TECUMSEH. (To BARRON.) I fear that our complaint?lies all too deep For your Chief's curing. The Great?Spirit gave?The red men this wide continent as theirs,?And in the east another to the white;?But, not content at home, these crossed the sea,?And drove our fathers from their ancient seats.?Their sons in turn are driven to the Lakes,?And cannot further go unless they drown.?Yet now you take upon yourselves to say?This tract is Kickapoo, this Delaware,?And this Miami; but your Chief should know?That all our lands are common to our race!?How can one nation sell the rights of all?Without consent of all? No! For my part I am a Red Man,?not a Shawanoe,?And here I mean to stay. Go to your chief,?And tell him I shall meet him at Vincennes.
[Exeunt all but TECUMSEH.]
What is there in my nature so supine?That I must ever quarrel with revenge??From vales and rivers which were once our own?The pale hounds who uproot our ancient graves?Come whining for our lands, with fawning tongues,?And schemes and subterfuge and subtleties.?O