Scene I
(Osceola's cottage. Enter Selma meeting Naymoyah).
Selma
The day begins to dawn. The sun is up,
Gilding the purple dapple of the dawn
With light bright as the world's first morn when God
Came down to walk with Man in Paradise,
And caught the coyness of his fresh-lipped youths
Hiding among the flowers. The Night is gone.
While, on the topmost peak of yon high hill,
I see the russet Fawn stamping the flowers—
His trumpet-nostrils lifted high in air
Above the flexile taper of his neck
So lithe, as if to catch the faintest breeze
That wantons by—eyeing the Hunter in
The Vale below—telling his sister they
Must flee away.
Naymoyah
Telling us too, to fly
The Eagle will not spare the turtle, when
Her young are famishing for food!
Selma
Most true!
But then the storm that rends the towering Oak,
Chariots the turtle to her native nest.
The fiery bolt that rends the mountain Rock,
Remakes the beauty of the tendrest flower.
Then let us wrestle with the storms of Fate,
Like Jacob with his Angel all the night.
And rise up from the labor with the strength
Of an immortal.
Naymoyah
Would to God we could.
The truths are hallowed coming from thy lips
But were thy lips to utter falsehoods now,
Thy former truths would discover them all.
Selma
Then let thy Selma council thee to shun
The false temptations of that wicked man.
Naymoyah
Who? Osceola?
Selma
He—as false as Hell!
But come—we now must go.
Naymoyah
Thank God for that!
(Exeunt).
