Ponteach.
Yes, he is wounded but—Monelia's slain,
And Torax both. Slain by the cowardly English,
Who 'scap'd your Brother's wounded threat'ning Arm,
But are pursued by such as will revenge it.—
Chekitan.
Oh wretched, wretched, wretched Chekitan!
[Aside.
Ponteach.
I know you're shock'd—The Scene has shock'd us all,
And what we could, we've done to wipe the Stain
From us, our Family, our Land and State;
And now prepare due Honours for the Dead,
With all the solemn Pomp of public Grief,
To shew Respect as if they were our own.
Chekitan.
Is this my Triumph after Victory?
A solemn, dreadful pompous Shew:
Why have I 'scap'd their Swords and liv'd to see it?
[Aside.