TECUMSEH. We have been much abused! and have abused Our fell destroyers too--making our wrongs The gauge of our revenge. And, still forced back From the first justice and the native right, Ever revenge hath sway. This we would void, And, by a common boundary, prevent. So, granting that a portion of our own Is still our own, then let that portion be Confirmed by sacred treaty to our tribes. This is my sum of asking--you have ears! BROCK. Nay, then, Tecumseh, speak of it no more! My promise is a pledge, and from a man Who never turned his back on friend or foe. The timely service you have done our cause, Rating not what's to come, would warrant it. So, if I live, possess your soul of this-- No treaty for a peace, if we prevail, Will bear a seal that doth not guard your rights. Here, take my sash, and wear it for my sake-- Tecumseh can esteem a soldier's gift. TECUMSEH. Thanks, thanks, my brother, I have faith in you; My life is at your service! BROCK. Gentlemen, Have you considered my proposal well Touching the capture of Detroit by storm? What say you Colonel Proctor? PROCTOR. I object! 'Tis true, the enemy has left our shores, But what a sorry argument is this! For his withdrawal, which some sanguine men, Jumping all other motives, charge to fear, Prudence, more deeply searching, lays to craft. Why should a foe, who far outnumbers us, Retreat o'er this great river, save to lure Our poor force after him? And, having crossed-- Our weakness seen, and all retreat cut off-- What would ensue but absolute surrender, Or sheer destruction? 'Tis too hazardous! Discretion balks at such a mad design. BROCK. What say the rest? 1ST OFFICER. I fear 'tis indiscreet. 2ND OFFICER. 'Twould be imprudent with our scanty force. BROCK. What say you, Nichol, to my foolish scheme? NICHOL. I think it feasible and prudent too. Hull's letters, captured by Tecumseh, prove His soldiers mutinous, himself despondent. And dearly Rumor loves the wilderness, Which gives a thousand echoes to a tongue That ever swells and magnifies our strength. And in this flux we take him, on the hinge Of two uncertainties--his force and ours. So, weighed, objections fall; and our attempt, Losing its grain of rashness, takes its rise In clearest judgment, whose effect will nerve All Canada to perish, ere she yield. BROCK. My very thoughts! What says Tecumseh now? TECUMSEH. I say attack the fort! This very night I'll cross my braves, if you decide on this.