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the first time he ever took precedence of his master; and I forgive him with all my heart and soul.,

Tel. You may depart, sir. (To Perez.)
Fern. and Flor. How!

Tel. D’ye hesitate ? :
I say you may depart: there is your horse;
Quickly bestride him then : but look not back,
Or death will overtake you. Tell your master,
That for our captive chief his son shall die:
And halloo with full voice into his ear
That TelicoIlit the fire! Away! [Exit PEREZ.
So, he is mounted: by the soul of man
He puts his courser to the proof.

Flor. Would he were carrying double, though I rode behind.

Tel. (To POTOWMAK.) Now we'll: release them.
Pot. Ay.
Tel. Set their limbs free. We war not with the

Spaniards;
And though with this grim face of preparation
We frighted yonder fool that flies so fast,
We never had a thought against your lives;
No, nor your liberty.

Flor. I knew you couldn't be in earnest.

Tel. You must remain with us to-night: to-morrow Shall give you liberty. Come, you shall see,

Since now we have acknowledged you as friends, How we should treat our enemies. (The ceremony of sacrificing prisoners is gone

through, in which a dance may be introduced, and the following verses sung.)

Ye, whose death still unrequited,
Groans for vengeance from the tomb,
Hither, from the land of spirits,
Souls of slaughter'd warriors, come.

Let the song of death arouse ye ;
Let it sooth your deep despair ;
As, with wild delight, ye hover
On the blood-polluted air.

Ye have drank revenge full deep ;
Souls of slaughter'd warriors sleep.

And thou, god of battle, hear us ;
Thou, who in the fight art near us,

Mighty Aro-uski, hear.
Sweet and lovely, in thine eyes,
Is the purple sacrifice;

And the sounds to thee are dear,
When mingling float around thy throne
Victor's shout-victim's groan.

• ACT III.

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Assembly of the Indian Chiefs.

POTOWMAK rises and addresses them.
Pot. Why we are met, my fellow countrymen,
Needs no discourse. Your universal cry
Is vengeance; and the purpose of your souls
Shines in the grasp of your uplifted steel.
Yet how to strike the blow demands a pause :
And first, whilst in remote captivity
Raymond is bound, I think some other warrior
Should be proclaim'd our leader.
An Indian.

Right! but who ?
Who shall succeed to Raymond ?
Another Indian.

Why, Potowmak!
Other Indians. Ay, ay, Potowmak, he shall be our

chief!
Another Indian. Who dares oppose it ?
Pot.

1.
My heart beats high to thank you; but this arm
Wields not the thunder of your captive chief.
There is a man (I speak not in contempt
Of other warriors) fit to succeed Raymond:
And only one.
· Indians. Name him,

Pot. His actions shall proclaim him. You have

seen
His arm thro' danger cleave a dreadful path.
Like lightning you have heard the mortal twang
Of his unerring bow-string: you his scalps
Have number'd, and have counted o'er his scars,
That once were bleeding wounds. Yet-need I name

him ?
Him, to whom war is rest and nourishment:
Who loves the peril best that looks most grim !
Shame on your memories. That night of hell
Have you forgot when, from the naked brow
Of yonder promontory we turn'd pale,
To see the warring elements encounter,
Sudden he leapt into the foaming darkness.
Indian..

'Twas Telico. Pot. Each shrinking eye invoļuntary clos'd, Nor op'd but by degrees, with trembling wonder, To see him on the billows fix his throne, And ride upon the tempest to the shore. (As he concludes, Telico enters, with a digni.

fied air. Indian. He shall be our chief. Indians. Ay, Telico, Telico shall be our chief!

(RAYMOND enters from the opposite side, Raym. You have well determin'd.

Tel. Confusion ! He return'd!

(Aside. (The Indians crowd round Raymond. An Indian.

'Tis he! and safe ! Raym. Spare your congratulations, Creeks: ere

sun-set I must return. Tel. How!

(Aside. An Indian. Return ere sunset ? Raym. My word is plighted: who would have me

break it?
Indian. They keep no faith with us.

Raym. And therefore, Creek,
They want a fair example.
Indian.

They have broken
The common bond of nations.
Raym.

What of that?
All Europeans lie: is, therefore, truth
To find no temple in the human breast ?
Shall I take up with vice at second hand;
And be the shadow of deformity?
I tell you I have promis’d: therefore, peace !
Nor let us waste the time that speeds so fast.
Telico-

Tel.: Well!
Raym. They have proclaim'd thee chief.
Tel. They did it freely. .

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