The Chevalier: He will lay his hands on their heads.
Glory of the Morning: He shall not, he shall not!
The Chevalier: I have said that I will tell him you were their mother.
Glory of the Morning: I am their mother—I am their mother.
The Chevalier: And he will praise Glory of the Morning.
Glory of the Morning: They are mine, they are mine!
The Chevalier: I have come to take them back with me over the Big Sea Water.
Glory of the Morning (The buckskin shirt falls from her hands as she spreads her arms and steps between him and her children): No, no, no! They are not yours! They are mine! The long pains were mine! Their food at the breast was mine! Year after year while you were away so long, long, long, I clothed them, I watched them, I taught them to speak the tongue of my people. All that they are is mine, mine, mine!
The Chevalier (Drawing Oak Leaf to him and holding up her bare arm): Is that an Indian's skin? Where did that color come from? I'm giving you the white man's law.
Glory of the Morning (Struggling with the Chevalier): I do not know the white man's law. And I do not know how their skin borrowed the white man's color. But I know that their little bodies came out of my own body—my own body. They must be mine, they shall be mine, they are mine! (The Chevalier throws her aside so that she falls.)