[Citizens converse in undertones.]
TWANG. Did you ever hear the like! Ef I hed my shootin'- iron darn me ef I wouldn't draw a bead on thet barkin' savage. The hungry devil gits under-holts on our Guvner every time.
SLAUGH. You bet! I reckon he'd better put a lump o' bacon in his mouth to keep his bilin' sap o' passion down.
BLOAT. Thet's mor'n I'd do. This is jest what we git for allowin' the skulkin' devils to live. I'd vittle 'em on lead pills ef I was Guvner.
TWANG. Thet's so! Our civilizashun is jest this—we know what's what. Ef I hed my way—
HARRISON. Silence, you fools! If you provoke him here your blood be on your heads.
GERKIN. Right you air, Guvner! We'll close our dampers.
TECUMSEH. My brother's ears have heard. Where is his tongue?
HARRISON. My honest ears ache in default of reason.
Tecumseh is reputed wise, yet now
His fuming passions from his judgment fly,
Like roving steeds which gallop from the catch,
And kick the air, wasting in wantonness
More strength than in submission. His threats fall
On fearless ears. Knows he not of our force,
Which in the East swarms like mosquitoes here?
Our great Kentucky and Virginia fires?
Our mounted men and soldier-citizens?
These all have stings—let him beware of them!
TECUMSEH. Who does not know your vaunting citizens!
Well drilled in fraud and disciplined in crime;
But in aught else—as honor, justice, truth—
A rabble, and a base disordered herd.
We know them; and our nations, knit in one,
Will challenge them, should this, our last appeal,
Fall on unheeding ears. My brother, hearken!
East of Ohio you possess our lands,
Thrice greater than your needs, but west of it
We claim them all; then, let us make its flood
A common frontier, and a sacred stream
Of which our nations both may drink in peace.