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| 2. | Scene II |
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 | The unpublished plays of Thomas Holley Chivers |  |
Scene II
(The Indian Council. Enter Selma guarded by Ostenee).Miccanopy
(rising)
When Osceola's father lived, he had
A daughter whom he loved above all things;
29
One day, when he was gone, the White-Man came,
And throwing in the lake some Pearls of Love
He brought with him, he won her heart—she fled—
And, from that fatal hour, was never seen!
The Chief of Cuscovilla's Vale returned.
He visited the Fountain of Green Isles,
But she was gone—gone to return no more!
And when he prayed to Micabou, the God
Of Waters, to restore him back his child,
He said the Wakon-bird had killed his Dove,
And borne her spirit to the Land of Souls!
The flower of Cuscovilla's Vale was gone!
And he who talked like Outalissa's son,
Mustered his mighty host upon the hills,
And laid the tall heads of his warriours low!
Just so has Selma served Naymoyah's love!
Now, Sachems, Warriours, listen to my voice!
Before three Moons shall roll away in Heaven,
The snorting Warhorse will be seen upon
Our hills, trampling the desert flowers to earth!
Before Manitou, who now rules the world,
This Concha Shell shall prove the only sign
Of what I wish—that he shall die tonight!
30
Jumper
(rising)
The Pale-face comes to call his brother—has
The Roe-buck cut upon his thigh—throws off
The robe that made him Priest of all our Tribe—
Deceives us—leaves our homes—joins with the whites—
Betrays his love—is caught again—now stands
Up here to hear the sentence of his death!
Then, by the Power that makes us what we are,
Let him be burned tonight!
(Enter Naymoyah falling in Selma's arms)
Naymoyah
Oh! Selma! love!
Hast thou not done Naymoyah wrong? Speak, love!
Oh! speak! for well she loves her darling's life
Without the which her own must cease to be!
The Indian Mico (rising to pronounce sentence)
.
Young Selma! listen to my voice!
Naymoyah
Hold! hold!
Stay the bold Eagle in his flight to Heaven!
As well may ye attempt to curb me now!
For if you touch one hair upon his head,
The Seminolian falls to rise no more!
31
That she will tinge the waters with her blood?
I tell you that the Spirit, Selma says
Is God, came to me in my dream last night,
And said, Naymoyah! tell this to thy tribe;
The very light that shines upon you now.
Shall roll but fifty times through Heaven, when all
In Ouithlacoochee's Vale shall pass away!
(Enter Osceola in haste)
Osceola
What is the matter here? Why is this noise
Among the Chiefs, that should keep silence? Speak!
Heard you the thunder of the White-man's host
Upon the hills? Why are ye sitting here?
Before me, in the visions of the night,
Went the tall Warhouse through the Indians' camp,
Lifting his trumpet-nostrils in the air, with feet
Dabbling in blood! Heard ye no sound? Then hear!
The fiery World, from her infernal depths,
Seemed to disgorge the nostrils of her wrath!
Oh! Warriours! if ye have not lost your souls,
Why do ye tarry here? Do ye not know
Ye cannot sentence any man to death
Upon the night of Banqueting of Souls?
32
For, lo! the Seminolian's hour is nigh!
Mico
Great Chiefs! What Osceola says is true.
We cannot sentence any man to death
Upon the night of Banqueting of Souls.
It is against our custom—cannot be.
Miccanopy
What! has it come to this? no laws, no rights—
Except the one that sets the White-man free?
No, by the gods! he shall die tonight!
Osceola
No, let thy son, the Eagle-Ostenee,
Who hates him as he loves Naymoyah's life,
Watch by him till he is condemned to die.
Miccanopy
It may be so. Confine him, Ostenee,
Between two upright posts set in the ground,
And guard him well! (To Naymoyah)
You, prophetess of lies,
Have spoken of the Seminolian's fall!
Before the Tribe of Miccanopy falls,
The Boy, that made thee tell me so, shall die!
Away! she is the bride of Ostenee!
33
Osceola
(to Miccanopy)
Brave Warriour! had we not sworn so oft
To link our hearts against the common foe,
Mine had not suffered thee to taunt her so!
But we are bound to be united now.
To separate would only crush our hopes.
But now no more until the war is done.
Miccanopy
Then we shall have no more to talk about.
(Exeunt omnes)
| The unpublished plays of Thomas Holley Chivers | |