Philip.
True, she is engaging, has a charming Air;
And if thy Love is fix'd, I will assist it,
And put thee in Possession of the Joy
That thou desirest more than Crowns and Empire.
Chekitan.
As how, dear Philip? Should we wage a War,
Which Hendrick disapproves, the Prize is lost.
Not Empires then could make Monelia mine;
All Hopes are dash'd upon that fatal Rock;
Nor Gold, nor Prayers, nor Tears, nor Promises,
Nor all the Engin'ry of Love at Work,
Could save a single Moment of my Joy.
Philip.
Yes, I will save it all and make her thine,
Act but thy Part, and do as I prescribe,
In Peace or War thou shalt possess the Prize.
Chekitan.
Thy Words revive my half-despairing Heart.
What must I act? or which Way must I turn?
I'll brave all Dangers, every Ill defy,
Risk Life itself, to call Monelia mine.
Help me, my Philip, and I'll be thy Slave,
Resign my Share of Empire to thy Hand,
And lay a Claim to nothing but Monelia.
Philip.
Rewards I do not ask; I am thy Brother,
And hold my Kindness to thee as a Debt.
Thou know'st I have engag'd to bring King Hendrick
To join the Lists, and fight against our Foes,
To rouse him to Revenge, and Rage, and War,
And make him zealous in the common Cause.
Nay, with uncommon Fury he shall rave,
And urge his Warriors on to Blood and Murder.
When this is done, Monelia may be thine,
Hendrick will court Alliance to our Tribe,
And joy to call great Ponteach's Son his own.