IENA. My little bark
Is yonder by the shore—but take me hence!
For I am worn and weak with wandering.
LEFROY. Come with me then.
Enter the PROPHET, who stalks gloomily across the stage—scowling at IENA and LEFROY as he passes out.
IENA. The Prophet! I am lost!
LEFROY. This monster here! But he is powerless now.
Fear him not, Iena! Tecumseh's wrath
Burns 'gainst him still—he dare not do thee hurt.
IENA. Must I endure for ever this fiend's hate?
He stabbed me with his eye—
[Swoons away.]
LEFROY. O, horrible! Let us but meet again, and I shall
send
His curst soul out of this accursed world!
[Exit LEFROY, carrying IENA.]