Philip.
He is, and waits impatient my Return.
Ponteach.
'Tis friendly in you thus to help your Brother;
But I suspect his Courage in the Field;
A love-sick Boy makes but a cow'rdly Captain.
Philip.
His Love may spur him on with greater Courage;
He thinks he's fighting for a double Prize;
And but for this, and Hopes of greater Service
In forwarding the Treaty with the Mohawk,
I now had been in Arms and warm in Battle.
Ponteach.
I much commend the Wisdom of your Stay.
Prepare yourself, and hasten to his Quarters;
You cannot make th' Attempt with too much Speed.
Urge ev'ry Argument with Force upon him,
Urge my strong Friendship, urge your Brother's Love,
His Daughter's Happiness, the common Good;
The general Sense of all the Indian Chiefs,
The Baseness of our Foes, our Hope of Conquest;
The Richness of the Plunder if we speed;
That we'll divide and share it as he pleases;
That our Success is certain if he joins us.
Urge these, and what besides to you occurs;
All cannot fail, I think, to change his Purpose.
Philip.
You'd think so more if you knew all my Plan.