Act 3 — SCENE FOURTH.—TECUMSEH'S CABIN.

Enter IENA.

IENA. Tis night, and Mamatee is absent still! Why should this sorrow weigh upon my heart, And other lonely things on earth have rest? Oh, could I be with them! The lily shone All day upon the stream, and now it sleeps Under the wave in peace—in cradle soft Which sorrow soon may fashion for my grave. Ye shadows which do creep into my thoughts— Ye curtains of despair! what is my fault, That ye should hide the happy earth from me? Once I had joy of it, when tender Spring, Mother of beauty, hid me in her leaves; When Summer led me by the shores of song, And forests and far-sounding cataracts Melted my soul with music. I have heard The rough chill harpings of dismantled woods, When Fall had stripped them, and have felt a joy Deeper than ear could lend unto the heart; And when the Winter from his mountains wild Looked down on death, and, in the frosty sky, The very stars seemed hung with icicles, Then came a sense of beauty calm and cold, That weaned me from myself, yet knit me still With kindred bonds to Nature. All is past, And he—who won from me such love for him, And he—my valiant uncle and my friend, Comes not to lift the cloud that drapes my soul, And shield me from the fiendish Prophet's power.

[Enter MAMATEE.]

Give me his answer in his very words!

MAMATEE. There is a black storm raging in his mind— His eye darts lightning like the angry cloud Which hangs in woven darkness o'er the earth. Brief is his answer—you must go to him. The Long-Knife's camp fires gleam among the oaks Which dot yon western hill. A thousand men Are sleeping there cajoled to fatal dreams By promises the Prophet breaks to-night. Hark! 'tis the war-song.

IENA. Dares the Prophet now Betray Tecumseh's trust, and break his faith?

MAMATEE. He dares do anything will feed ambition. His dancing braves are frenzied by his tongue, Which prophesies revenge and victory. Before the break of day he will surprise The Long-Knife's camp, and hang our people's fate Upon a single onset.

IENA. Should he fail?

MAMATEE. Then all will fail;—Tecumseh's scheme will fail.

IENA. It shall not! Let us go to him at once!

MAMATEE. And risk your life?

IENA. Risk hovers everywhere When night and man combine for darksome deeds. I'll go to him, and argue on my knees— Yea, yield my hand—would I could give my heart! To stay his purpose and this act of ruin.

MAMATEE. He is not in the mood for argument Rash girl! they die who would oppose him now.

IENA. Such death were sweet as life—I go! But, first—Great Spirit! I commit my soul to Thee.

[Kneels.]