________________________________________________
_ ACT V - SCENE III.
The Grove, with the dead bodies; TENESCO pointing CHEKITAN to them.
TENESCO.
There lie the Bodies, Prince, a wretched Sight!
Breathless and pale.
CHEKITAN.
A wretched Sight indeed;
[Going towards them.]
Oh, my Monelia; has thy Spirit fled?
Art thou no more? a bloody, breathless Corpse!
Am I return'd full flush'd with Hopes of Joy,
With all the Honours Victory can give,
To see thee thus? Is this, is this my Welcome?
Is this our Wedding? Wilt thou not return?
Oh, charming Princess, art thou gone for ever?
Is this the fatal Period of our Love?
Oh! had I never seen thy Beauty bloom,
I had not now been griev'd to see it pale:
Had I not known such Excellence had liv'd,
I should not now be curs'd to see it dead:
Had not my Heart been melted by thy Charms,
It would not now have bled to see them lost.
Oh, wherefore, wherefore, wherefore do I live:
Monelia is not--What's the World to me?
All dark and gloomy, horrid, waste, and void:
The Light of the Creation is put out!--
The Blessings of the Gods are all withdrawn!
Nothing remains but Wretchedness and Woe;
Monelia's gone; Monelia is no more.
The Heavens are veil'd because she don't behold them:
The Earth is curs'd, for it hath drunk her Blood;
The Air is Poison, for she breathes no more:
Why fell I not by the base Briton's Sword?
Why press'd I not upon the fatal Point?
Then had I never seen this worse than Death,
But dying said, 'tis well--Monelia lives.
TENESCO.
Comfort, my Prince, nor let your Passion swell
To such a Torrent, it o'erwhelms your Reason,
And preys upon the Vitals of your Soul.
You do but feed the Viper by this View;
Retire, and drive the Image from your Thought,
And Time will soon replace your every Joy.
CHEKITAN.
O my Tenesco, had you ever felt
The gilded Sweets, or pointed Pains of Love,
You'd not attempt to sooth a Grief like mine.
Why did you point me to the painful Sight?
Why have you shown this Shipwreck of my Hopes,
And plac'd me in this beating Storm of Woe?
Why was I told of my Monelia's Fate?
Why wa'n't the wretched Ruin all conceal'd
Under some fair Pretence--That she had fled--
Was made a Captive, or had chang'd her Love--
Why wa'n't I left to guess her wretched End?
Or have some slender Hope that she still liv'd?
You've all been cruel; she died to torment me;
To raise my Pain, and blot out every Joy.--
TENESCO.
I fear'd as much: His Passion makes him wild--
[Aside.]
I wish it may not end in perfect Frenzy.
CHEKITAN.
Who were the Murderers? Where did they fly?
Where was my Brother, not to take Revenge?
Show me their Tracks, I'll trace them round the Globe;
I'll fly like Lightning, ravage the whole Earth--
Kill every thing I meet, or hear, or see.
Depopulate the World of Men and Beasts,
'Tis all too little for that single Death.
[Pointing to MONELIA'S corpse.]
I'll tear the Earth that dar'd to drink her Blood;
Kill Trees, and Plants, and every springing Flower:
Nothing shall grow, nothing shall be alive,
Nothing shall move; I'll try to stop the Sun,
And make all dark and barren, dead and sad;
From his tall Sphere down to the lowest Centre,
There I'll descend, and hide my wretched Self,
And reign sole Monarch in a World of Ruin.
TENESCO.
This is deep Madness, it hath seiz'd his Brain.
[Aside.]
CHEKITAN.
But first I'll snatch a parting last Embrace.
[He touches and goes to embrace the corpse.]
Thou dear cold Clay! forgive the daring Touch;
It is thy Chekitan, thy wounded Lover.
'Tis; and he hastens to revenge thy Death.
[TORAX groans and attempts to speak.]
TORAX.
Oh, oh, I did not--Philip--Philip--Oh.
[CHEKITAN starts.]
CHEKITAN.
What--did I not hear a Groan? and Philip call'd?
TENESCO.
It was, it was, and there is Motion too.
[Approaches TORAX, who groans and speaks again.]
TORAX.
Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh! Philip--help. Oh! Oh!
TENESCO.
He is alive--We'll raise him from the Ground.
[They lift him up, and speak to him.]
Torax, are you alive? or are our Ears deceiv'd?
TORAX.
Oh. Philip, do not--do not--be so cruel.
CHEKITAN.
He is bewilder'd, and not yet himself.
Pour this into his Lips--it will revive him.
[They give him something.]
TENESCO.
This is a Joy unhop'd for in Distress.
[TORAX revives more.]
TORAX.
Oh! Philip, Philip!--Where is Philip gone?
TENESCO.
The Murderers are pursued--He will go soon.
And now can carry Tidings of your Life.
TORAX.
He carry Tidings! he's the Murderer.
TENESCO.
He is not murder'd; he was slightly wounded,
And hastens now to see the King your Father.
TORAX.
He is false, a barbarous, bloody Man,
A Murderer, a base disguis'd Assassin.
CHEKITAN.
He still is maz'd, and knows not whom he's with
TORAX.
Yes, you are Chekitan, and that's Monelia.
[Pointing to the corpse.]
This is Tenesco--Philip stabb'd my Sister,
And struck at me; here was the stunning Blow.
[Pointing to his head.]
He took us sleeping in this silent Grove;
There by Appointment from himself we waited.
I saw him draw the bloody Knife from her,
And, starting, ask'd him, Why, or what he meant?
He answered with the Hatchet on my Skull,
And doubtless thought me dead and bound in Silence.
I am myself, and what I say is Fact.
TENESCO.
The English 'twas beset you; Philip ran
For your Assistance, and himself is wounded.
TORAX.
He may be wounded, but he wounded me;
No Englishman was there, he was alone.
I dare confront him with his Villainy:
Depend upon 't, he's treacherous, false, and bloody.
CHEKITAN.
May we believe, or is this all a Dream?
Are we awake? Is Torax yet alive?
Or is it Juggling, Fascination all?
TENESCO.
'Tis most surprising! What to judge I know not.
I'll lead him hence; perhaps he's still confus'd.
TORAX.
I gladly will go hence for some Relief,
But shall not change, from what I've now aver'd.
TENESCO.
Then this sad Storm of Ruin 's but begun.
[Aside.]
Philip must fly, or next it lights on him.
[Exeunt TENESCO and TORAX led by him.]
CHEKITAN.
And can this be--Can Philip be so false?
Dwells there such Baseness in a Brother's Heart?
So much Dissimulation in the Earth?
Is there such Perfidy among Mankind?
It shocks my Faith--But yet it must be so--
Yes, it was he, Monelia, shed thy Blood.
This made him forward to commence our Friend,
And with unusual Warmth engage to help us;
It was for this so cheerful he resign'd
To me the Honour of Command in War;
The English Troops would never come so near;
The Wounds were not inflicted by their Arms.
All, all confirms the Guilt on Philip's Head.
You died, Monelia, by my Brother's Hand;
A Brother too intrusted with our Love.
I'm stupify'd and senseless at the Thought;
My Head, my very Heart is petrify'd.
This adds a Mountain to my Weight of Woe.
It now is swell'd too high to be lamented;
Complaints, and Sighs, and Tears are thrown away,
Revenge is all the Remedy that's left;
But what Revenge is equal to the Crime?
His Life for her's! An Atom for the Earth--
A Single Fly--a Mite for the Creation:
Turn where I will I find myself confounded:
But I must seek and study out new Means.
Help me, ye Powers of Vengeance! grant your Aid,
Ye that delight in Blood, and Death, and Pain!
Teach me the Arts of Cruelty and Wrath,
Till I have Vengeance equal to my Love,
And my Monelia's Shade is satisfied.
[Exit.] _
Read next: Act 5 - Scene 4
Read previous: Act 5 - Scene 2
Table of content of Ponteach; The Savages of America: A Tragedy
GO TO TOP OF SCREEN
Post your review
Your review will be placed after the table of content of this book
