CHEKITAN.

Who were the Murderers? Where did they fly?

Where was my Brother, not to take Revenge?

Show me their Tracks, I'll trace them round the Globe; I'll fly like Lightning, ravage the whole Earth-- Kill every thing I meet, or hear, or see.

Depopulate the World of Men and Beasts, 'Tis all too little for that single Death.

[_Pointing to MONELIA'S corpse._ I'll tear the Earth that dar'd to drink her Blood; Kill Trees, and Plants, and every springing Flower: Nothing shall grow, nothing shall be alive, Nothing shall move; I'll try to stop the Sun, And make all dark and barren, dead and sad; From his tall Sphere down to the lowest Centre, There I'll descend, and hide my wretched Self, And reign sole Monarch in a World of Ruin.

TENESCO.

This is deep Madness, it hath seiz'd his Brain. [_Aside._

CHEKITAN.

But first I'll s.n.a.t.c.h a parting last Embrace.

[_He touches and goes to embrace the corpse._ Thou dear cold Clay! forgive the daring Touch; It is thy Chekitan, thy wounded Lover.

'Tis; and he hastens to revenge thy Death.

[_TORAX groans and attempts to speak._

TORAX.

Oh, oh, I did not--Philip--Philip--Oh. [_CHEKITAN starts._

CHEKITAN.

What--did I not hear a Groan? and Philip call'd?

TENESCO.

It was, it was, and there is Motion too.

[_Approaches TORAX, who groans and speaks again._

TORAX.

Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh! Philip--help. Oh! Oh!

TENESCO.

He is alive--We'll raise him from the Ground.

[_They lift him up, and speak to him._ Torax, are you alive? or are our Ears deceiv'd?

TORAX.

Oh. Philip, do not--do not--be so cruel.

CHEKITAN.

He is bewilder'd, and not yet himself.

Pour this into his Lips--it will revive him.

[_They give him something._

TENESCO.

This is a Joy unhop'd for in Distress. [_TORAX revives more._

TORAX.

Oh! Philip, Philip!--Where is Philip gone?

TENESCO.

The Murderers are pursued--He will go soon.

And now can carry Tidings of your Life.

TORAX.

He carry Tidings! he's the Murderer.

TENESCO.

He is not murder'd; he was slightly wounded, And hastens now to see the King your Father.

TORAX.

He is false, a barbarous, b.l.o.o.d.y Man, A Murderer, a base disguis'd a.s.sa.s.sin.

CHEKITAN.

He still is maz'd, and knows not whom he's with

TORAX.

Yes, you are Chekitan, and that's Monelia. [_Pointing to the corpse._ This is Tenesco--Philip stabb'd my Sister, And struck at me; here was the stunning Blow. [_Pointing to his head._ He took us sleeping in this silent Grove; There by Appointment from himself we waited.

I saw him draw the b.l.o.o.d.y Knife from her, And, starting, ask'd him, Why, or what he meant?

He answered with the Hatchet on my Skull, And doubtless thought me dead and bound in Silence.

I am myself, and what I say is Fact.

TENESCO.

The English 'twas beset you; Philip ran For your a.s.sistance, and himself is wounded.

TORAX.

He may be wounded, but he wounded me; No Englishman was there, he was alone.

I dare confront him with his Villainy: Depend upon 't, he's treacherous, false, and b.l.o.o.d.y.

CHEKITAN.

May we believe, or is this all a Dream?

Are we awake? Is Torax yet alive?