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diff --git a/29226-h/29226-h.htm b/29226-h/29226-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..068c091 --- /dev/null +++ b/29226-h/29226-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,4237 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" /> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Style-Type" content="text/css" /> + <title> + The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Fall of British Tyranny, by John Leacock. + </title> + <style type="text/css"> + +body { + margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; +} + + h1,h2,h3 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + clear: both; +} + +p { + margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; +} + +table { + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; +} + +.pagenum { /* uncomment the next line for invisible page numbers */ + /* visibility: hidden; */ + position: absolute; + left: 92%; + font-size: smaller; + text-align: right; + font-style:normal; + text-indent:0em; + padding:0em; +} /* page numbers */ + + +.center {text-align: center;} + +.smcap {font-variant: small-caps; font-style:normal;} + + +.caption {font-weight: bold;} + +/* Images */ +.figcenter { + margin: auto; + text-align: center; +} + +/* Footnotes */ +.footnotes {border: dashed 1px;} + +.footnote {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-size: 0.9em;} + +.footnote .label {position: absolute; right: 84%; text-align: right;} + +.fnanchor { + vertical-align: super; + font-size: .8em; + text-decoration: + none; +} + +/* Poetry */ +.poem { + margin-left:50%; + margin-right:10%; + text-align: left; +} + +.poem br {display: none;} + +.poem .stanza {margin: 1em 0em 1em -10em;} + +.poem span.i0 { + display: block; + margin-left: 0em; + padding-left: 3em; + text-indent: -3em; +} + +.poem span.i2 { + display: block; + margin-left: 2em; + padding-left: 3em; + text-indent: -3em; +} + +.poem span.i4 { + display: block; + margin-left: 4em; + padding-left: 3em; + text-indent: -3em; +} + +.tnote {width: 25em; + border: 1px dashed #808080; + background-color: #f6f6f6; + text-align: justify; + padding: 0.5em; + margin: 6em auto 6em auto;} +.gap2 {margin-top:2em;} +.gap3 {margin-top:3em;} +.hangindent {margin-left:3em;text-indent:-3em;} +.stagedir {text-align:right;} +.lfloat {float:left;width:auto;} +.padded {padding-left:1em; padding-right:1em;} + + </style> + </head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Fall of British Tyranny, by John Leacock + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Fall of British Tyranny + American Liberty Triumphant + +Author: John Leacock + +Editor: Montrose J. Moses + +Release Date: June 26, 2009 [EBook #29226] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE FALL OF BRITISH TYRANNY *** + + + + +Produced by David Starner, Brownfox and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<div class="tnote"><p class="center"><b>Transcriber's Note:</b></p> +<p>This e-book contains the text of <i>The Fall of British Tyranny</i>, extracted from +<b>Representative Plays by American Dramatists: Vol 1, 1765-1819</b>. Comments and +background to all the plays, and links to the other plays are available +<a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/files/29221/29221-h/29221-h.htm">here</a>.</p> +<p>For your convenience, the transcribers have provided the following links:</p> +<p class="center"> +<a href="#JOHN_LEACOCK"><b>JOHN LEACOCK</b></a><br /> +<a href="#THE_DEDICATION"><b>THE DEDICATION</b></a><br /> +<a href="#THE_PREFACE"><b>THE PREFACE</b></a><br /> +<a href="#THE_GODDESS_OF_LIBERTY"><b>THE GODDESS OF LIBERTY</b></a><br /> +<a href="#THE_PROLOGUE"><b>THE PROLOGUE</b></a><br /> +<a href="#DRAMATIS_PERSONAE"><b>DRAMATIS PERSONÆ</b></a><br /> +<a href="#ACT_I"><b>ACT I.</b></a><br /> +<a href="#ACT_II"><b>ACT II.</b></a><br /> +<a href="#ACT_III"><b>ACT III.</b></a><br /> +<a href="#ACT_IV"><b>ACT IV.</b></a><br /> +<a href="#ACT_V"><b>ACT V.</b></a><br /> +<a href="#THE_EPILOGUE"><b>THE EPILOGUE.</b></a><br /> +</p> +</div> + +<h1 class="gap3">THE FALL</h1> + +<h3>OF</h3> + +<h1>BRITISH TYRANNY</h1> + +<h2><i>By</i> <span class="smcap">John Leacock</span></h2> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_279" id="Page_279">[Pg 279]</a></span></p> + + + +<h3 class="gap3"><a name="JOHN_LEACOCK" id="JOHN_LEACOCK"></a>JOHN LEACOCK</h3> + + +<p>Among the elusive figures of early American Drama stands +John Leacock, author of "The Fall of British Tyranny,"<a name="FNanchor_1_1" id="FNanchor_1_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_1" class="fnanchor">[1]</a> published +in 1776, in Philadelphia. Even more elusive is the identification, +inasmuch as his name has been spelled variously Leacock, +Lacock, and Laycock. To add to the confusion, Watson's +"Annals of Philadelphia," on the reminiscent word of an old +resident of that town, declares that Joseph Leacock penned +"The Medley."<a name="FNanchor_2_2" id="FNanchor_2_2"></a><a href="#Footnote_2_2" class="fnanchor">[2]</a> "He wrote also a play, with good humour," +says this authority, "called 'British Tyranny.'" On careful +search of the files, no definite information in regard to Leacock +has been forthcoming. The dedication to "The Fall of British +Tyranny" was signed "Dick Rifle," but there is no information +to be traced from this pseudonym.</p> + +<p>Searching the Colonial Records of Pennsylvania, I discovered +no less than three John Leacocks mentioned, all of whom were +Coroners, as well as a Joseph Leacock, who occupied the same +position. Examining the Records of the Pennsylvania Soldiers +of the Revolution, I found several John Leacocks in the ranks +as privates, and also one John Laycock.</p> + +<p>Professor Moses Coit Tyler, in his "Literary History of the +American Revolution" (ii, 198), giving a list of the characters +in the play and the names of those supposed to be lampooned, +analyzes the piece thoroughly, and says, "From internal evidence, +it must be inferred that the writing of the play was finished +after the publication of 'Common Sense' in January, 1776, +and before the news had reached Philadelphia of the evacuation +of Boston, March 17, 1776." Though Sabin takes for granted +that Leacock wrote "The Fall of British Tyranny," Hildeburn, +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_280" id="Page_280">[Pg 280]</a></span>in the "Issues of the Press" (ii, 249), states that it is "said to have +been written by Mr. Laycock of Philadelphia." If the John +Leacock, whose name appears in the Philadelphia Directory of +1802, is the one who wrote "The Fall of British Tyranny," following +that clue we find his name disappearing from the Directory +in 1804. Hence, he must either have died, or have moved +away from Philadelphia.</p> + +<p>The elusive name of Leacock is to be considered also in connection +with an opera entitled, "The Disappointment; or, The +Force of Credulity," signed by Andrew Barton,<a name="FNanchor_3_3" id="FNanchor_3_3"></a><a href="#Footnote_3_3" class="fnanchor">[3]</a> supposed to be +a pseudonym, and attributed variously to "Colonel" Thomas +Forrest and to John Leacock. I already have had occasion to +mention "The Disappointment" in connection with Godfrey's +"The Prince of Parthia." The reader will remember that in +1767 "The Disappointment" was put into rehearsal, but was +suddenly withdrawn in preference to Godfrey's piece. This +play has been fully and interestingly analyzed by O. G. Sonneck, +who gives the reasons for the withdrawal of the play from +rehearsal by the American Company of Philadelphia, 1767. +These reasons are definitely stated in the <i>Pennsylvania Gazette</i> +for April 16, 1767, which contains this warning in the American +Company's advertisement of "The Mourning Bride": "N.B. 'The +Disappointment' (that was advertised for Monday), as it contains +personal Reflections, is unfit for the Stage."</p> + +<p>The reason why this piece is attributed to "Colonel" Thomas +Forrest is that there is a memorandum in substantiation on the +title-page of a copy owned by the Library Company of Philadelphia.</p> + +<p>Mr. Sonneck gives further and more extensive treatment of +the subject in his excellent book on "Early Opera in America," +(Schirmer, 1915) as well as in "Sammelbände der Internationale +Musik Gesellschaft," for 1914-1915.</p> + +<p>We mention the matter here, because, although Sonneck enters +into a long discussion of the life of Forrest, he fails to give any +satisfactory account of John Leacock. In fact, he says in +closing, "If Andrew Barton, Esq., is to be a pseudonym, it seems +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_281" id="Page_281">[Pg 281]</a></span>to me that John Leacock, claimed (by Mr. Hildeburn) to have +written the tragi-comedy of 'The Fall of British Tyranny,' +should not be cast aside so cheerfully in favour of Thomas Forrest."</p> + +<p>Seilhamer and Durang, referring to the matter, mention +Joseph Leacock as a claimant for the authorship of "The Disappointment," +and say that he was a jeweler and a silversmith +in Philadelphia; they also mention John Leacock, the Coroner. +Durang, in the "History of the Philadelphia Stage," throws all +weight in favour of Thomas Forrest. Sonneck says further, +regarding the matter,—"We may dispose of Joseph by saying +that he seems to have been among the dead when, in 1796, the +second edition of 'The Disappointment,' revised and corrected +by the author, was issued. On the other hand, Coroner John +Leacock figures in the Philadelphia Directories even later."</p> + +<p>So the matter stands. The play, however, is a very definite +contribution, illustrating how quickly the American spirit +changed in the days preceding the Revolution. Imagine, in +1762, the students of the College of New Jersey giving a piece +entitled "The Military Glory of Great Britain;"<a name="FNanchor_4_4" id="FNanchor_4_4"></a><a href="#Footnote_4_4" class="fnanchor">[4]</a> and so short +a time afterwards, only fourteen years, in fact, a piece with the +title, "The Fall of British Tyranny," being greeted by the +theatre-going public! Leacock's attempt may be taken as the +first example that we have of an American chronicle play. And +it is likewise significant as being the first literary piece in which +George Washington appears as a character. In the advertisement, +the play is thus described (see Ford):</p> + +<p>"A pleasing scene between Roger and Dick, two shepherds +near Lexington.</p> + +<p>"Clarissa, etc. A very moving scene on the death of Dr. Warren, +etc., in a chamber near Boston, the morning after the battle +of Bunker's Hill.</p> + +<p>"A humorous scene between the Boatswain and a Sailor on +board a man-of-war, near Norfolk in Virginia.</p> + +<p>"Two very laughable scenes between the Boatswain, two +Sailors and the Cook, exhibiting specimens of seafaring oratory, +and peculiar eloquence of those sons of Neptune, touching +Tories, Convicts, and Black Regulars: and between Lord Kidnapper +and the Boatswain.</p> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_282" id="Page_282">[Pg 282]</a></span></p> +<p>"A very black scene between Lord Kidnapper and Major +Cudjo.</p> + +<p>"A religious scene between Lord Kidnapper, Chaplain, and +the Captain.</p> + +<p>"A scene, the Lord Mayor, etc., going to St. James's with the +address.</p> + +<p>"A droll scene, a council of war in Boston, Admiral Tombstone, +Elbow Room, Mr. Caper, General Clinton and Earl Piercy.</p> + +<p>"A diverting scene between a Whig and a Tory.</p> + +<p>"A spirited scene between General Prescott and Colonel Allen.</p> + +<p>"A shocking scene, a dungeon, between Colonel Allen and an +officer of the guard.</p> + +<p>"Two affecting scenes in Boston after the flight of the regulars +from Lexington, between Lord Boston, messenger and +officers of the guard.</p> + +<p>"A patriotic scene in the camp at Cambridge, between the +Generals Washington, Lee, and Putnam, etc., etc."</p> + +<p>It is interesting to note that in the Abbé Robin's discerning +remarks, concerning the effect of drama on the pupils of Harvard +in 1781, and on the general appeal of drama among the American +Patriots, he mentions "The Fall of British Tyranny" without +giving the author's name.</p> + +<div class="footnotes"><h3>FOOTNOTES:</h3> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_1_1" id="Footnote_1_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_1"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> The Fall/of/British Tyranny;/or,/American Liberty/Triumphant./The First +Campaign./A Tragi-Comedy of Five Acts,/as Lately Planned/at the Royal Theatrum +Pandemonium,/at St. James's./The Principal Place of Action in America./Publish'd +According to Act of Parliament./Quis furor ô cives! quæ tanta licentia ferri?/Lucan. +lib. I. ver. 8./What blind, detested madness could afford/Such horrid licence +to the murd'ring sword?/Rowe./Philadelphia:/Printed by Styner and Cist, in Second-street,/near +Arch-street. M DCC LXXVI.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_2_2" id="Footnote_2_2"></a><a href="#FNanchor_2_2"><span class="label">[2]</span></a> "The Medley; or, Harlequin Have At Ye All." A pantomime produced at +Covent Garden, and published in 1778.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_3_3" id="Footnote_3_3"></a><a href="#FNanchor_3_3"><span class="label">[3]</span></a> From Sabin, I take the following: +</p><p> +<span class="smcap">Barton</span> (A.) "The Disappointment; or, The Force of Credulity." A new American +Comic Opera, of two Acts. By Andrew Barton, Esq. [Motto.] <i>New York, +Printed in the year</i> M, DCC, LXVIII. 8vo. pp. v., 58. P. t. Second edition, revised +and corrected, with large additions, by the Author. <i>Philadelphia</i>, Francis Shallus, +1796. 12 mo. pp. iv., 94, p. 3801. [Sabin also notes that the Philadelphia Library +copy is very rare, with MS Key to the characters, who were Philadelphians. Air +No. iv is Yankee Doodle (1767).]</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_4_4" id="Footnote_4_4"></a><a href="#FNanchor_4_4"><span class="label">[4]</span></a> The Title-page runs as follows: +</p><p> +The/Military Glory/of/Great-Britain,/an/Entertainment,/given by the late Candidates +for/Bachelor's Degree,/At the close of the/Anniversary Commencement, +held/in/Nassau-Hall/New-Jersey/September 29th, 1762./Philadelphia:/Printed by +William Bradford, M, DCC, LXII.</p></div> +</div> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_283" id="Page_283">[Pg 283]</a></span></p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 426px;"> +<img src="images/image_282.png" width="426" height="689" alt="THE FALL OF BRITISH TYRANNY OR, AMERICAN LIBERTY TRIUMPHANT. Fac-Simile Title-Page of the First Edition" title="THE FALL OF BRITISH TYRANNY OR, AMERICAN LIBERTY TRIUMPHANT." /> +<span class="caption smcap">Fac-Simile Title-Page of the First Edition</span></div> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_285" id="Page_285">[Pg 285]</a></span></p> + + + +<h2 class="gap3"><a name="THE_DEDICATION" id="THE_DEDICATION"></a><i>THE DEDICATION</i></h2> + +<div class="hangindent"><p>To Lord Boston, Lord Kidnapper, and the innumerable and +never-ending Clan of Macs and Donalds upon Donalds, and +the Remnant of the Gentlemen Officers, Actors, Merry +Andrews, strolling Players, Pirates, and Buccaneers in +America.</p></div> + + +<p>My Lords and Gentlemen:</p> + +<p><i>Understanding you are vastly fond of plays and farces, and +frequently exhibit them for your own amusement, and the laudable +purpose of ridiculing your masters (the <span class="smcap">Yankees</span>, as you call +'em), it was expected you would have been polite enough to have +favoured the world, or America at least (at whose expense you act +them), with some of your play-bills, or with a sample of your composition.</i></p> + +<p><i>I shall, however, not copy your churlishness, but dedicate the +following Tragi-Comedy to your patronage, and for your future +entertainment; and as the most of you have already acted your +particular parts of it, both comic and tragic, in reality at Lexington, +Bunker's-Hill, the Great-Bridge, &c., &c., &c., to the very great +applause of yourselves, tho' not of the whole house, no doubt you will +preserve the marks, or memory of it, as long as you live, as it is +wrote in capital American characters and letters of blood on your +posteriors: And however some Whigs may censure you for your +affected mirth (as they term it, in the deplorable situation you are +now in, like hogs in a pen, and in want of elbow room), yet I can +by no means agree with them, but think it a proof of true heroism +and philosophy, to endeavour to make the best of a bad bargain, and +laugh at yourselves, to prevent others from laughing at you; and +tho' you are deprived of the use of your teeth, it is no reason you +should be bereaved of the use of your tongues, your eyes, your ears, +and your risible faculties and powers. That would be cruel indeed! +after the glorious and fatiguing campaign you have made, and the +many signal victories obtained over whole herds of cattle and swine, +routing flocks of sheep, lambs and geese, storming hen-roosts, and +taking them prisoners, and thereby raising the glory of Old England<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_286" id="Page_286">[Pg 286]</a></span> +to a pitch she never knew before. And ye Macs, and ye Donalds +upon Donalds, go on, and may our gallows-hills and liberty poles +be honour'd and adorn'd with some of your heads: Why should +Tyburn and Temple-bar make a monopoly of so valuable a commodity?</i></p> + +<p><i>Wishing you abundance of entertainment in the re-acting this +Tragi-Comedy, and of which I should be proud to take a part with +you, tho' I have reason to think you would not of choice let me come +within three hundred yards of your stage, lest I should rob you of +your laurels, receive the clap of the whole house, and pass for a +second Garrick among you, as you know I always act with applause, +speak bold—point blank—off hand—and without prompter.</i></p> + +<p><i>I am</i>, My Lords and Gentlemen Buffoons,</p> + +<p style="margin-left:30%"><i>Your always ready humble servant,</i></p> +<p style="margin-left:60%"><span class="smcap">Dick Rifle.</span></p> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_287" id="Page_287">[Pg 287]</a></span></p> + + + +<h2 class="gap3"><a name="THE_PREFACE" id="THE_PREFACE"></a>THE PREFACE</h2> + + +<p>Solomon said, "Oppression makes a wise man mad:" but +what would he have said, had he lived in these days, and +seen the oppression of the people of Boston, and the distressed +situation of the inhabitants of Charlestown, Falmouth, Stonnington, +Bristol, Norfolk, &c.? Would he not have said, "The +tongue of the sucking child cleaveth to the roof of his mouth for +thirst; the young children ask for bread, but no man breaketh +it unto them?" "They that did feed delicately, perish in the +streets; they that were brought up in scarlet, embrace the +dung." What would he have said of rejected petitions, disregarded +supplications, and contemned remonstrances? Would +he not have said, "From hardness of heart, good Lord, deliver +us?" What would he have said of a freeborn people butchered—their +towns desolated, and become an heap of ashes—their +inhabitants become beggars, wanderers and vagabonds—by the +cruel orders of an unrelenting tyrant, wallowing in luxury, and +wantonly wasting the people's wealth, to oppress them the more? +Would he not have said, it was oppression and ingratitude in the +highest degree, exceeding the oppression of the children of Israel? +and, like Moses, have cried out, let the people go? Would he +not have wondered at our patience and long-suffering, and have +said, "'Tis time to change our master!—'Tis time to part!"—And +had he been an American born, would he not have shewed his +wisdom by adopting the language of independency? Happy +then for America in these fluctuating times, she is not without +her Solomons, who see the necessity of heark'ning to reason, and +listening to the voice of <span class="smcap">Common Sense</span>.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_288" id="Page_288">[Pg 288]</a></span></p> + + + +<h2 class="gap3"><a name="THE_GODDESS_OF_LIBERTY" id="THE_GODDESS_OF_LIBERTY"></a>THE GODDESS OF LIBERTY</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Hail! Patriots,<a name="FNanchor_5_5" id="FNanchor_5_5"></a><a href="#Footnote_5_5" class="fnanchor">[5]</a> hail! by me inspired be!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Speak boldly, think and act for Liberty,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">United sons, America's choice band,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ye Patriots firm, ye sav'ours of the land.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hail! Patriots, hail! rise with the rising sun,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor quit your labour, till the work is done.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ye early risers in your country's cause,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shine forth at noon, for Liberty and Laws.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Build a strong tow'r, whose fabric may endure<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Firm as a rock, from tyranny secure.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet would you build my fabric to endure,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Be your hearts warm—but let your hands be pure.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Never to shine, yourselves, your country sell;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But think you nobly, while in place act well.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Let no self-server general trust betray,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No picque, no party, bar the public way.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Front an arm'd world, with union on your side:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No foe shall shake you—if no friends divide.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At night repose, and sweetly take your rest;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">None sleeps so sound as those by conscience blest;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">May martyr'd patriots whisper in your ear,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To tread the paths of virtue without fear;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">May pleasing visions charm your patriot eyes;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While Freedom's sons shall hail you blest and wise,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hail! my last hope, she cries, inspired by me,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wish, talk, write, fight, and die—for <span class="smcap">Liberty</span>.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<div class="footnotes"><h3>FOOTNOTES:</h3> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_5_5" id="Footnote_5_5"></a><a href="#FNanchor_5_5"><span class="label">[5]</span></a> The Congress</p></div> +</div> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_289" id="Page_289">[Pg 289]</a></span></p> + + +<h2 class="gap3"><a name="THE_PROLOGUE" id="THE_PROLOGUE"></a>THE PROLOGUE</h2> + +<p class="center"><i>Spoken by</i> Mr. Peter Buckstail.</p> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Since 'tis the fashion, preface, prologue next,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Else what's a play?—like sermon without text!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Since 'tis the fashion then, I'll not oppose;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For what's a man if he's without a nose?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The curtain's up—the music's now begun,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What is 't?—Why murder, fire, and sword, and gun.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What scene?—Why blood!—What act?—Fight and be free!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or be ye slaves—and give up liberty!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Blest Continent, while groaning nations round<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bend to the servile yoke, ignobly bound,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">May ye be free—nor ever be opprest<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By murd'ring tyrants, but a land of rest!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What say ye to 't? what says the audience?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Methinks I hear some whisper <span class="smcap">Common Sense</span>.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hark! what say them Tories?—Silence—let 'em speak,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Poor fools! dumb—they hav'n't spoke a word this week,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dumb let 'em be, at full end of their tethers,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Twill save the expense of tar and of feathers:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Since old Pluto's lurch'd 'em, and swears he does not know<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If more these Tory puppy curs will bark or no.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now ring the bell—Come forth, ye actors, come,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Tragedy's begun, beat, beat the drum,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Let's all advance, equipt like volunteers,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oppose the foe, and banish all our fears.<br /></span> +<table summary="bigbrace1" style="padding:0;border:0;border-collapse:collapse;margin-left:0%;"> +<tr> +<td><span class="i0">We will be free—or bravely we will die,</span></td> +<td rowspan="3" style="font-size:300%;">}</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><span class="i0">And leave to Tories tyrants' legacy,</span></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><span class="i0">And all our share of its dependency.</span></td> +</tr> +</table> +</div></div> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_290" id="Page_290">[Pg 290]</a></span></p> + + +<h2 class="gap3"><a name="DRAMATIS_PERSONAE" id="DRAMATIS_PERSONAE"></a>DRAMATIS PERSONÆ</h2> + +<table summary="Dramatis Personae"> +<tr> +<td class="padded"><span class="smcap">Lord Paramount</span>,</td> +<td class="padded">Mr. Bute.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="padded"><span class="smcap">Lord Mocklaw</span>,</td> +<td class="padded">Mr. Mansfield.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="padded"><span class="smcap">Lord Hypocrite</span>,</td> +<td class="padded">Mr. Dartmouth.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="padded"><span class="smcap">Lord Poltron</span>,</td> +<td class="padded">Mr. Sandwich.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="padded"><span class="smcap">Lord Catspaw</span>,</td> +<td class="padded">Mr. North.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="padded"><span class="smcap">Lord Wisdom</span>,</td> +<td class="padded">Mr. Chatham.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="padded"><span class="smcap">Lord Religion</span>,</td> +<td class="padded">Bishop of St. Asaph.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="padded"><span class="smcap">Lord Justice</span>,</td> +<td class="padded">Mr. Camden.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="padded"><span class="smcap">Lord Patriot</span>,</td> +<td class="padded">Mr. Wilkes.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="padded"><span class="smcap">Bold Irishman</span>,</td> +<td class="padded">Mr. Burke.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="padded"><span class="smcap">Judas</span>,</td> +<td class="padded">Mr. Hutchinson.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="padded"><span class="smcap">Charley</span>,</td> +<td class="padded">Mr. Jenkinson.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="padded"><span class="smcap">Brazen</span>,</td> +<td class="padded">Mr. Wedderburne.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="padded"><span class="smcap">Colonel</span>,</td> +<td class="padded">Mr. Barre.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="padded"><span class="smcap">Lord Boston</span>,</td> +<td class="padded">Mr. Gage.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="padded"><span class="smcap">Admiral Tombstone</span>,</td> +<td class="padded">Mr. Graves.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="padded"><span class="smcap">Elbow Room</span>,<a name="FNanchor_6_6" id="FNanchor_6_6"></a><a href="#Footnote_6_6" class="fnanchor">[6]</a></td> +<td class="padded">Mr. Howe.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="padded"><span class="smcap">Mr. Caper</span>,</td> +<td class="padded">Mr. Burgoyne.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="padded"><span class="smcap">Lord Kidnapper</span>,</td> +<td class="padded">Mr. Dunmore.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td colspan="2" class="padded"><span class="smcap">General Washington</span>.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td colspan="2" class="padded"><span class="smcap">General Lee</span>.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td colspan="2" class="padded"><span class="smcap">General Putnam</span>.</td> +</tr> +</table> + +<p class="center"><i>Officers, Soldiers, Sailors, Citizens, Negroes, &c., &c., &c.</i></p> +<div class="footnotes"><h3>FOOTNOTES:</h3> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_6_6" id="Footnote_6_6"></a><a href="#FNanchor_6_6"><span class="label">[6]</span></a> It seems to be generally thought that the expression of "Elbow Room" is to be +attributed to General Howe, and not to General Burgoyne.</p></div> +</div> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_291" id="Page_291">[Pg 291]</a></span></p> + +<h2 class="gap3">THE FALL</h2> + +<h3>OF</h3> + +<h2>BRITISH TYRANNY, &c.</h2> + + + +<h2 class="gap3"><a name="ACT_I" id="ACT_I"></a>ACT I.</h2> + + +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Scene</span> I. <i>At St. James's.</i></p> + +<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Lord Paramount</span> [<i>solus, strutting about</i>].</p> + +<p>Many long years have rolled delightfully on, whilst I have +been basking in the sunshine of grandeur and power, whilst +I have imperceptibly (tho' not unsuspected) guided the chariot +of state, and greased with the nation's gold the imperial wheels.</p> + +<p>'Tis I that move the mighty engine of royalty, and with the +tincture of my somniferous opiate or (in the language of a +courtier) by the virtue of my secret influence, I have lulled the +axletree to sleep, and brought on a pleasing insensibility.</p> + +<p>Let their champion, Lord Wisdom, groan, he is now become +feeble and impotent, a mere cripple in politics; their Lord Patriot's +squint has lost its basilisk effect: and the bold Irishman may +bellow the <i>Keenew</i> till he's hoarse, he's no more when compar'd +to me than an Irish salmon to a Scotch herring: I care not a +bawbee for them all. I'll reign in Britain, I'll be king of their +counsels, and chief among the princes.</p> + +<p>Oh! ambition, thou darling of my soul! stop not till I rise +superior to all superlative, till I mount triumphantly the pinnacle +of glory, or at least open the way for one of my own family +and name to enter without opposition.</p> + +<p>The work is now cut out, and must be finish'd, I have ventur'd +too far to recede, my honour's at stake, my importance, nay my +life, depends upon it!</p> + +<p>Last night's three hours' closeting has effectually done the +business; then I spoke my mind in such terms as to make a lasting +impression, never to be eradicated—all—all was given up<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_292" id="Page_292">[Pg 292]</a></span> +to me, and now since I hold the reins of government, since I am +possessed of supreme power, every thing shall be subservient +to my royal will and pleasure.</p> + + +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Scene</span> II.</p> + +<p class="center"><i>Enter <span class="smcap">Mocklaw</span>.</i></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mocklaw.</span> I am your Lordship's most obedient humble +servant.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paramount.</span> Be seated,—I sent for you to have a small conference +with you—and to let you know, your advice respecting +certain points of law, I have found succeeded to admiration; +even beyond my most sanguine expectations.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mocklaw.</span> I am heartily glad of it, altho' the advice I gave +your Lordship, I cannot say, was law; yet, your Lordship can +easily pass it as such by a royal proclamation: and should it ever +be disputed, I have quirks and quibbles enough at your service, +with Mr. Brazen and Mr. Attorney-General's assistance, to +render it so doubtful, obscure and ambiguous, as to puzzle Lord +Justice, perplex Dunning, and confound Glynn.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paramount.</span> Can you show me an instance of a royal proclamation +passing for a law? or advise me how to make it such, if +you can, I shall make it well worth your study.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mocklaw.</span> My Lord, as you have now got a parliament exactly +to your mind, ev'ry thing you propose will be granted; but +in order that you may see precedents are not wanting—there is +a statute in the reign of Henry the 8th that expressly shews +the then parliament passed a law that the king's proclamation +should be the law of the land—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paramount.</span> Are you sure of that?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mocklaw.</span> My Lord, here it is—this is real law: <i>Luce meridiana +clariora</i>. When we find any thing of this kind, ready made +to our hands, it's a treasure we should never part with.</p> + +<p class="stagedir">[<i><span class="smcap">Paramount</span> reads.</i></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paramount.</span> I see it plain! this, this alone is worth a ton of +gold.—Now, by St. Andrew! I'll strike a stroke that shall surprise +all Europe, and make the boldest of the adverse party turn +pale and tremble—Scotch politics, Scotch intrigues, Scotch influence, +and Scotch impudence (as they have termed it), they +shall see ere long shine with unheard of splendour, and the name +of Lord Paramount the mighty, shall blaze in the annals of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_293" id="Page_293">[Pg 293]</a></span> +the world with far greater lustre (as a consummate politician) +than the name of Alexander the Great, as an hero!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mocklaw.</span> That day I much wish for,—but, with your Lordship's +permission, I would just mention, that secrecy and dissimulation +are the soul of enterprise; your Lordship hath many +enemies, who watch ev'ry movement of state with a jealous and +wary eye.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paramount.</span> I know it, but the futile attempts of my timid +adversaries have hitherto proved abortive—so far I have borne +down all opposition, and those (even some of the greatest of +them) who not long since were my most open, as well as secret +enemies, I now behold with the most princely pleasure, the +earliest to attend, to congratulate me on my birthday, tho' +uninvited, bow down, and make the most submissive congees. +Have you not seen this, Mocklaw? and how I keep them in expectation +of something, by now and then bestowing part of a +gracious smile amongst a dozen of them?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mocklaw.</span> I have, my Lord, and no doubt they interpret that +as a favourable omen;—however, policy, my Lord, would dictate +that to you, if there were no other consideration.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paramount.</span> True, and yet they are cursedly mistaken—and +now, Mocklaw, as I have ever found you to be well dispos'd +towards me, and the cause I espouse, and as I trust you continue +satisfy'd with my former bounty, and my promise now of +granting you a pension for life, with liberty to retire, I shall +make you my confident, and disclose to you a secret no man +except myself yet knows, which I expect you have so much +honour to let it remain a secret to all the world (I mean as to +the main point I have in view).</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mocklaw.</span> Depend upon it, my Lord, I am sincerely devoted +to your Lordship, command me, I care not what it is, I'll screw, +twist and strain the law as tight as a drumhead, to serve +you.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paramount.</span> I shall at this time but just give you a hint of +the plan I've drawn up in my own mind. You must have perceived +in me a secret hankering for majesty for some time past, +notwithstanding my age;—but as I have considered the great +dislike the nation in general have, as to my person, I'll wave my +own pretensions, and bend my power and assiduity to it in +favour of one, the nearest a kin to me, you know who I mean, +and a particular friend of yours, provided I continue to be dictator,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_294" id="Page_294">[Pg 294]</a></span> +as at present; and further, I intend America shall submit. What +think you of it so far?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mocklaw.</span> A day I've long wish'd to see! but you stagger +me, my Lord, not as to my honour, secrecy, or resolution to +serve you, but as to the accomplishment of such grand designs.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paramount.</span> 'Tis true, I have undertaken a mighty task, a +task that would have perplexed the Council of Nice, and stagger'd +even Julius Cæsar—but—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mocklaw.</span> You have need, my Lord, of all your wisdom, +fortitude and power, when you consider with whom you have +to contend—Let me see—Lord Wisdom—Lord Religion—Lord +Justice—Lord Patriot—the bold Irishman, &c., &c., &c., and +the wisdom of the United Colonies of America in Congress to +cope with; as individuals they are trifling, but in league combined +may become potent enemies.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paramount.</span> Granted—But are you so little of a lawyer as not +to know the virtue of a certain specific I'm possess'd of, that will +accomplish any thing, even to performing miracles? Don't you +know there's such sweet music in the shaking of the treasury keys, +that they will instantly lock the most babbling patriot's tongue? +transform a Tory into a Whig, and a Whig into a Tory? make a +superannuated old miser dance, and an old Cynic philosopher +smile. How many thousand times has your tongue danc'd at +Westminster Hall to the sound of such music?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mocklaw.</span> Enchanting sounds, powerful magic, there's no +withstanding the charms of such music, their potency and influence +are irresistible—that is a point of law I can by no means +give up, of more force than all the acts of parliament since +the days of King Alfred.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paramount.</span> I'm glad you acknowledge that—Now then for +a line of politics—I propose to begin first by taxing America, as a +blind—that will create an eternal animosity between us, and by +sending over continually ships and troops, this will, of course, produce +a civil war—weaken Britain by leaving her coasts defenseless, +and impoverish America; so that we need not fear any thing +from that quarter. Then the united fleets of France and Spain +with troops to appear in the channel, and make a descent, while +my kinsman with thirty thousand men lands in Scotland, marches +to London, and joins the others: What then can prevent the +scheme from having the wish'd for effect? This is the main +point, which keep to yourself.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_295" id="Page_295">[Pg 295]</a></span></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mocklaw.</span> If it has failed heretofore, 'tis impossible it should +fail now; nothing within the reach of human wisdom was ever +planned so judiciously; had Solomon been alive, and a politician, I +would have sworn your Lordship had consulted him.—But I would +beg leave to hint to your Lordship the opposition to be apprehended +from the militia of England, and the German forces that +may be sent for according to treaty.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paramount.</span> As to the militia, they are half of them my +friends, witness Lancaster, Manchester, Liverpool, &c., &c., &c., +the other half scarce ever fired a gun in their lives, especially +those of London; and I shall take care by shaking the keys a +little to have such officers appointed over them, who are well +known to be in my interest. As to the German forces, I have +nothing to apprehend from them; the parliament can soon +pass an act against the introduction of foreign troops, except +the French or Spaniards, who can't be called foreign, they are +our friends and nearest neighbours. Have you any thing +further to object against the probability of this plan?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mocklaw.</span> Nothing, my Lord, but the people of Ireland, who +must be cajoled or humbugg'd.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paramount.</span> As to that, let me alone, I shall grant the Roman +Catholics, who are by far the most numerous, the free exercise +of their religion, with the liberty of bearing arms, so long unjustly +deprived of, and disarm in due time all the Protestants in +their turn.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mocklaw.</span> That will be a noble stroke, the more I consider +it, the more I'm surpris'd at your Lordship's profound wisdom +and foresight: I think success is certain.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paramount.</span> Then this is the favourable crisis to attempt it; +'tis not the thought of a day, a month, or a year. Have you +any more objections?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mocklaw.</span> I have one more, my Lord—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paramount.</span> Well, pray let's hear it; these lawyers will be +heard.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mocklaw.</span> The Bishops and Clergy are a powerful, numerous +body; it would be necessary, my Lord, to gain them over, or +keep them silent—A religious war is the worst of wars.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paramount.</span> You are very right, I have 'em fast enough—Mammon +will work powerfully on them—The keys—the keys—His +Grace my Lord of Suffolk is managing this business for me, +and feeding them with the hopes of being all created Archbishops<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_296" id="Page_296">[Pg 296]</a></span> +here, and each to have a diocese, and Bishops of their own +appointment in America; not a city or town there but must be +provided with a Bishop: There let religion erect her holy altars, +by which means their revenues will be augmented beyond that +of a Cardinal. All this we must make 'em believe.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mocklaw.</span> True, my Lord, what is a Bishop without faith? +This is the grandest stroke of religious circumvention that ever +was struck.—I've done, my Lord.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paramount.</span> Very well, you'll not fail to meet the privy council +here this evening; in the mean time you'll go and search the +statutes for other precedents to strengthen the cause; and remember +I have enjoin'd you to secrecy.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mocklaw.</span> Depend upon it, my Lord, I cannot prove ungrateful +to your Lordship, nor such an enemy to myself.</p> + +<p class="stagedir">[<i>Exit <span class="smcap">Mocklaw</span>.</i></p> + + +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Scene</span> III. <span class="smcap">Lord Paramount</span> [<i>solus</i>].</p> + +<p>This Mocklaw is a cursed knowing dog, and I believe the father +of Brazen; how readily he found an old act of parliament to my +purpose, as soon as I told him I would make it worth his study; +and the thoughts of a pension will make him search his old +worm-eaten statute books from the reign of King Arthur down +to this present time; how he raises objections too to make me +think his mind is ever bent on study to serve me. The shaking +of the treasury keys is a fine bait. [<i>Rings the bell.</i>] Charters, +magna chartas, bill of rights, acts of assembly, resolves of congresses, +trials by juries (and acts of parliament too) when they +make against us, must all be annihilated; a suspending power I +approve of, and of royal proclamations.</p> + +<p class="stagedir">[<i>Enter <span class="smcap">Charley</span>.</i></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Charley.</span> I wait your Lordship's orders.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paramount.</span> Write a number of cards, and see that the Lords +of the privy council, and Mr. Judas, be summoned to give their +attendance this evening at six o'clock, at my Pandemonium.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Charley.</span> I'm gone, my Lord.</p> + +<p class="stagedir">[<i>Exit <span class="smcap">Charley</span>.</i></p> + +<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Paramount</span> [<i>solus</i>].</p> + +<p>How do we shew our authority? how do we maintain the +royal prerogative? keep in awe the knowing ones of the opposite +party, and blind the eyes of the ignorant multitude in Britain? +Why, by spirited measures, by an accumulation of power, of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_297" id="Page_297">[Pg 297]</a></span> +deception, and the shaking of the keys, we may hope to succeed, +should that fail, I'll enforce them with the pointed bayonet; the +Americans from one end to the other shall submit, in spite of +all opposition; I'll listen to no overtures of reconciliation from +any petty self-constituted congress, they shall submit implicitly +to such terms as I of my royal indulgence please to grant. I'll +shew them the impudence and weakness of their resolves, and +the strength of mine; I will never soften; my inflexibility shall +stand firm, and convince them the second Pharaoh is at least +equal to the first. I am unalterably determined at every hazard +and at the risk of every consequence to compel the colonies to +absolute submission. I'll draw in treasure from every quarter, +and, Solomon-like, wallow in riches; and Scotland, my dear +Scotland, shall be the paradise of the world. Rejoice in the +name of Paramount, and the sound of a bawbee shall be no +more heard in the land of my nativity.—</p> + + +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Scene</span> IV.</p> + +<p class="center"><i>Enter <span class="smcap">Charley</span> in haste.</i></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Charley.</span> My Lord, the notices are all served.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paramount.</span> It's very well, Charley.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Charley.</span> My Lord, be pleased to turn your eyes, and look +out of the window, and see the Lord Mayor, Aldermen, Common +Council and Liverymen going to St. James's with the address.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paramount.</span> Where? Sure enough—Curse their impudence; +how that squinting scoundrel swells with importance—Mind, +Charley, how fond he is of bowing to the gaping multitude, and +ev'ry upstart he sees at a window—I hope he'll not turn his +blear eyes t'wards me—I want none of his bows, not I—Stand +before me, Charley—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Charley.</span> I will, my Lord, and if he looks this way, I'll give +him such a devilish grin as best suits such fellows as him, and +make him remember it as long as he lives.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paramount.</span> Do so, Charley; I hate the dog mortally, I religiously +hate him, and hope ere long to have satisfaction for his +insolence and the freedoms he has taken with me and my connections: +I shall never forget the many scandalous verses, +lampoons and pasquinades he made upon us.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Charley.</span> Indeed, he has used your Lordship too ill ever to +be forgotten or forgiven.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_298" id="Page_298">[Pg 298]</a></span></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paramount.</span> Damn him, I never intend to do either—See +again how he bows—there again—how the mob throw up their +hats, split their throats; how they huzza too; they make a mere +god of the fellow; how they idolize him—Ignorant brutes!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Charley.</span> A scoundrel; he has climb'd up the stilts of preferment +strangely, my Lord.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paramount.</span> Strangely, indeed; but it's our own faults.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Charley.</span> He has had better luck than honester folks; I'm +surpris'd to think he has ever rose to the honour of presenting a +remonstrance, or rather, that he could ever have the impudence +to think of remonstrating.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paramount.</span> Aye, Charley, you see how unaccountably things +turn out; his audacity is unparalleled—a Newgate dog.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Charley.</span> My Lord, I believe the fellow was never known to +blush; and, indeed, it's an observation I made some time ago, +and I believe a just one, without an exception, that those who +squint never blush.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paramount.</span> You must be mistaken, Charley.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Charley.</span> No, my Lord, it's a fact, I had an uncle squinted +exactly like him, who was guilty of many scandalous things, and +yet all the parish, with the parson at their head, could not make +him blush, so that at last he became a by-word—Here comes +old shame-the-devil; this dog is the very spawn of him.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paramount.</span> Hoot, mon, ye give your uncle a shocking character.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Charley.</span> I only mention it, my Lord, for the similarity's +sake.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paramount.</span> For the spawn of him, and the similarity's sake, +I'm apt to think you've been abusing your own cousin all this +while.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Charley.</span> God forbid, my Lord, I should be any how allied +to him.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paramount.</span> I fancy, Charley, if the truth was known, your +uncle did not mention you in his will, and forgot to leave you +the mansion-house and farm at Gallows-hill. Am I right, +Charley?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Charley.</span> You're right, my Lord, upon my honour—but—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paramount.</span> I thought so—Well, never mind—Ha, ha, ha, +who are those two fat fellows there, that go in such state?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Charley.</span> I suppose them to be a couple of Livery Tallow-chandlers, +my Lord, by their big bellies.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_299" id="Page_299">[Pg 299]</a></span></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paramount.</span> Ha, ha,—what work the guards would make +amongst them—but they must not be called yet.—And who are +those other two behind 'em?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Charley.</span> This is Mr. Hone, and the other Mr. Strap, a +couple of the Corporation Barbers, forsooth.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paramount.</span> Ha, ha, ha, I thought they had been a couple +of Dukes;—and that one—who is he with the monstrous wig?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Charley.</span> That is Mr. Alderman Pipeshank, in Newgate-street.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paramount.</span> A parcel of Newgate dogs altogether—Well it +is a good deal of satisfaction to me to think how this fellow will +be received at St. James's; he'll not return back so pleas'd as +he seems to be now, I warrant you—I have taken care he shall +meet with a d——d cold reception there; he will have to make +his appearance before Lord Frostyface, Lord Scarecrow, Lord +Sneerwell, Lord Firebrand, Lord Mawmouth, Lord Waggonjaws, +Lord Gripe, Lord Brass, Lord Surly and Lord Tribulation, +as hard-fac'd fellows as himself; and the beauty of it is, +not one of them loves him a whit more than I do.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Charley.</span> That will be rare diversion for them that are +present; he'll look then, my Lord, like Sampson making sport +for the Philistines.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paramount.</span> Aye, but I wish he was as blind too, as Sampson +was.—Well Charley, we have been dispos'd to be a little merry +with this ridiculous parade, this high life below stairs. I wish +you had begun your description a little sooner, before they were +all gone; the looks of these wiseacres afford us some mirth, tho' +we despise them and their politics, and it's not unlikely it may +end in blood—Be it so, I'm prepar'd for the worst.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Charley.</span> Rather so, my Lord, than submit to such rascals.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paramount.</span> I'll give up my life first for a sacrifice.</p> + +<p class="stagedir">[<i>Exit <span class="smcap">Charley</span>.</i></p> + + +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Scene</span> V.</p> + +<p class="center"><i>Enter <span class="smcap">Mocklaw</span>, <span class="smcap">Poltron</span>, <span class="smcap">Hypocrite</span>, <span class="smcap">Catspaw</span>, <span class="smcap">Brazen</span>, +<span class="smcap">Judas</span>.</i> [<i>All seated.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paramount.</span> My Lords and Gentlemen, it seems opposition +to our measures are making hasty strides; the discontented +faction, the supporters and encouragers of rebellion, and whole +hearts are tainted therewith, seem bent, if possible, on the +destruction of Britain, and their own aggrandisement. Are not +the daily papers filled with treasonable resolves of American<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_300" id="Page_300">[Pg 300]</a></span> +congresses and committees, extracts of letters, and other +infamous pieces and scurrilous pamphlets, circulating with +unusual industry throughout the kingdom, by the enemies of +Britain, thereby poisoning the minds of our liege subjects with +their detestable tenets?—And did you not this day see the +procession, and that vile miscreant Lord Patriot at their head, +going to St. James's with their remonstrance, in such state and +parade as manifestly tended to provoke, challenge and defy +majesty itself, and the powers of government? and yet nothing +done to stop their pernicious effects.—Surely, my Lords and +Gentlemen, you must agree with me, that it is now become +highly expedient that an immediate stop should be put to such +unwarrantable and dangerous proceedings, by the most vigorous +and coercive measures.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mocklaw.</span> I entirely agree with your Lordship, and was ever +firmly of opinion, that licentiousness of every kind (particularly +that of the Press) is dangerous to the state; the rabble should be +kept in awe by examples of severity, and a proper respect should +be enforced to superiors. I have sufficiently shewn my dislike to +the freedom of the Press, by the examples I have frequently +made (tho' too favourable) of several Printers, and others, who +had greatly trespassed, and if they still persist, other measures +should be taken with them, which the laws will point out; and +as to Lord Patriot, he's a fellow that has been outlaw'd, scandal-proof, +little to be got by meddling with him; I would advise to +let him alone for the present, and humble America first.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mr. Brazen.</span> I am very clear in it, please your Lordship; +there are numbers of men in this country who are ever studying +how to perplex and entangle the state, constantly thwarting +government, in ev'ry laudable undertaking; this clamorous +faction must be curbed, must be subdued and crush'd—our +thunder must go forth, America must be conquered. I am for +blood and fire to crush the rising glories of America—They boast +of her strength; she must be conquered, if half of Germany is +called to our assistance.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mr. Poltron.</span> I entirely agree with you, Mr. Brazen; my +advice is, that Lord Boston and Admiral Tombstone be immediately +despatch'd to Boston, with two or three regiments (tho' +one would be more than sufficient) and a few ships to shut up +their ports, disannul their charter, stop their trade, and the +pusillanimous beggars, those scoundrel rascals, whose predomi<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_301" id="Page_301">[Pg 301]</a></span>nant +passion is fear, would immediately give up, on the first +landing of the regulars, and fly before 'em like a hare before +the hounds; that this would be the case, I pawn my honour to +your Lordships, nay, I'll sacrifice my life: My Lords, I have +moreover the testimony of General Amherst and Colonel Grant +to back my assertion; besides, here's Mr. Judas, let him speak.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lord Hypocrite.</span> If this is the same Colonel Grant that was +at Fort Duquesne, the same that ran away from the French and +Indians, the same that was rescued by Colonel Washington, I +have no idea of his honour or testimony.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lord Poltron.</span> He's a Gentleman, my Lord Hypocrite, of +undoubted veracity.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lord Hypocrite.</span> You might as well have said courage too, +I have exceptions against both; and as to General Amherst's +assertion that he could drive all America with five thousand +men, he must have been joking, as he is quite of a diff'rent +opinion now.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lord Catspaw.</span> What is your opinion of your countrymen, +Mr. Judas, with respect to their courage?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Judas.</span> The same that I have ever told you, my Lord; as +to true courage they have none, I know 'em well—they have a +plenty of a kind of enthusiastic zeal, which they substitute in +the room of it; I am very certain they would never face the +regulars, tho' with the advantage of ten to one.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lord Hypocrite.</span> All this, and a great deal more, would +never convince me of the general cowardice of the Americans—but +of the cowardice of Grant I've been long convinced, by +numbers of letters formerly from America—I'm for doing the +business effectually; don't let us be too sanguine, trust to stories +told by every sycophant, and hurry heels over head to be laugh'd +at; the Americans are bold, stubborn, and sour; it will require +foreign assistance to subdue 'em.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lord Catspaw.</span> These four Americans, ignorant brutes, unbroke +and wild, must be tamed; they'll soon be humble if +punish'd; but if disregarded, grow fierce.—Barbarous nations +must be held by fear, rein'd and spurr'd hard, chain'd to the +oar, and bow'd to due control, till they look grim with blood; +let's first humble America, and bring them under our feet; the +olive-branch has been held out, and they have rejected it; it now +becomes us to use the iron rod to break their disobedience; and +should we lack it, foreign assistance is at hand.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_302" id="Page_302">[Pg 302]</a></span></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lord Hypocrite.</span> All this I grant, but I'm for sending a force +sufficient to crush 'em at once, and not with too much precipitation; +I am first for giving it a colour of impartiality, forbearance +and religion.—Lay it before parliament; we have then law on our +side, and endeavour to gain over some or all of the Methodist +Teachers, and in particular my very good friend Mr. Wesley, their +Bishop, and the worthy Mr. Clapum, which task I would undertake; +it will then have the sanction of religion, make it less suspected, +and give it a better grace.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lord Catspaw.</span> I should choose it to be done by consent of +parliament; we stand then on firmer ground; there's no doubt +they'll grant ev'ry thing your Lordship proposes upon my motion: +but to tell the truth, I'd rather be in Purgatory so long, than +to run the gauntlet of the Bold Irishman's tongue.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mocklaw.</span> Aye, aye, don't part with the law while it's in our +favour, or we can have it by asking for—and as to the Bold Irishman, +don't be brow-beaten, you must summon all your brass, +and put on a rugged highwayman's face like his; I expect some +work of that kind too, but the devil himself sha'n't browbeat me.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paramount.</span> I am glad to find, my Lords and Gentlemen, you +all see the necessity of sending over troops and ships; I intend my +Lord Catspaw shall lay it before parliament, and am very certain +they'll pass any acts I can desire. I thank you, Lord Hypocrite, +for your kind offer, and accept of it; my Lord of Suffolk is negotiating +the same business with the rest of my Lords the Bishops, +and will succeed; so that it will carry the appearance of law, of +religion, and will be sufficiently grac'd; I'll warrant you no one +shall have cause to complain of its wanting grace. And now, +my Lords and Gentlemen, as it's so late, and we have gone +through all the business at this time proposed, you are at your +liberty to withdraw.</p> + +<p class="stagedir">[<i>Exeunt.</i></p> + +<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Paramount</span> [<i>solus</i>].</p> + +<p>The fate of England and America is now fixed, irrevocably +fixed; the storm is ready to burst; the low'ring clouds portend +their fate my glory, their fall my triumph—But I must haste to +be gone, the ceremonies await my presence; deeds of darkness +must be done by night, and, like the silent mole's work, under +ground:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Now rushing forth in sober twilight gray,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Like prowling wolf, who ranges for his prey.</i><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="stagedir">[<i>Exit.</i></p> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_303" id="Page_303">[Pg 303]</a></span></p> + + + +<h2 class="gap3"><a name="ACT_II" id="ACT_II"></a>ACT II.</h2> + + +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Scene</span> I.</p> + +<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Lord Wisdom</span>, <span class="smcap">Lord Religion</span>, <span class="smcap">Lord Justice</span>.</p> + +<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Lord Wisdom.</span></p> + +<p>I much lament, my Lords, the present unhappy situation of +my country; where e'er I turn mine eyes, to Europe, Asia, Africa, +or America, the prospect appears the same—Look up to the +throne, and behold your king, if I may now call him by that soft +title—Where is the wisdom, the justice, the religion, that once +adorn'd that throne, and shed the benign influence of their bright +rays thro' the four quarters of the globe? Alas! they're flown!</p> + +<p>Mark his forlorn looks—his countenance dejected, a sullen +greatness fixed on his brow, as if it veil'd in blood some awful +purpose, his eyes flaming and sanguinary; how I bewail you, +for your predecessor's sake! Long, long have I been an old, +and I trust a faithful, servant in the family—Can I then restrain +one tear? No, 'tis impossible! View that arch-dragon, that old +fiend, Paramount, that rebel in grain, whispering in his ear. +View his wretched ministers hovering round him, to accomplish +their accursed purpose, and accelerate his destruction. View the +whole herd of administration (I know 'em well) and tell me if +the world can furnish a viler set of miscreants? View both houses +of parliament, and count the number of Tyrants, Jacobites, +Tories, Placemen, Pensioners, Sycophants, and Panders. View +the constitution, is she not disrob'd and dismantled? is she not +become like a virgin deflower'd? View our fleets and armies +commanded by bloody, murdering butchers! View Britain herself +as a sheep without a shepherd! And lastly view America, +for her virtue bleeding and for her liberty weltering in her blood!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lord Religion.</span> Such hath, and ever will be the fate of +kings, who only listen to the voice of pleasure, thrown in their +way by the sirens of administration, which never fail to swallow +them up like quicksand—like a serpent, who charms and fascinates, +bewitches and enchants with his eye the unwary bird; +witness the fatal catastrophe of Rehoboam, who rejected the +counsel of the wise and experienced, and gave up all to the +advice and guidance of young, unskilful and wicked counsellors. +Had he listen'd to you, my Lord, had he followed your advice, +all, all would have gone well—Under your auspicious adminis<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_304" id="Page_304">[Pg 304]</a></span>tration +Britain flourished, but ever since has been on the decline +and patriotism, like religion, scarcely now more than a sounding +brass or a tinkling cymbal.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lord Wisdom.</span> My counsel has been rejected—my conciliatory +plan thrown under the table, and treated with contempt; +the experience of gray hairs called the superannuated notions +of old age—my bodily infirmities—my tottering frame—my +crazy carcase, worn out in the service of my country, and even +my very crutches, have been made the subject of their ridicule.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lord Justice.</span> Gratitude, like religion and patriotism, are +about taking their flight, and the law of the land stands on tip-toe; +the constitution, that admirable fabric, that work of ages, +the envy of the world, is deflower'd indeed, and made to commit +a rape upon her own body, by the avaricious frowns of her own +father, who is bound to protect her, not to destroy.—Her pillars +are thrown down, her capitals broke, her pedestals demolish'd, +and her foundation nearly destroy'd.—Lord Paramount and his +wretched adviser Mocklaw baffle all our efforts.—The statutes +of the land superseded by royal proclamations and dispensing +powers, &c., &c., the bloody knife to be held to the throats of +the Americans, and force them to submit to slav'ry.—Administration +have commenced bloody tyrants, and those that should +protect the subject are become their executioners; yet will I +dispute with them inch by inch, while there's a statute book left +in the land. Come forth, thou grand deceiver! I challenge thee +to come forth!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lord Wisdom.</span> Our friends must bestir themselves once more, +perhaps we may yet turn the scale.—If the voice of religion, +wisdom and justice should fail, let us sound the trumpet of +liberty and patriotism, that will conquer them in America, I +know; let us try to storm them here with the united whole, and +if by a base majority they still carry their point, we can nevertheless +wash our hands and be clean.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lord Religion.</span> From the pulpit, in the house of God, have +I spoken aloud, I have lifted up my voice like a trumpet. O +Britain, how art thou fallen! Hear now, O house of Britain, is +it a small thing for you to weary man, but will you weary your +God also? In the house of Lords have I borne my testimony: +Hear now, O ye Princes, and I will yet declare in Britain, +and shew forth in America, I will not cease till I bring about +(if possible) unity, peace and concord.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_305" id="Page_305">[Pg 305]</a></span></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lord Wisdom.</span> Much to be wished for; but alas! I fear it's +now too late; I foresee the tendency and consequence of those +diabolical measures that have been pursued with unrelenting fury. +Britain will ruin her trade, waste her wealth, her strength, her +credit and her importance in the scale of Europe. When a British +king proves ungrateful and haughty, and strives to be independent +of his people (who are his sole support), the people will in their +turn likewise strive to be independent of him and his myrmidons, +and will be free; they will erect the anfractuous standard of independency, +and thousands and tens of thousands will flock to it, +and solace themselves under its shade.—They has often been told +of this, but affected to despise it; they know not America's +strength, they are ignorant of it; fed by the flatt'ry of every +sycophant tale, imagine themselves almighty, and able to subdue +the whole world. America will be lost to Britain forever, and +will prove her downfall. America is wise, and will shake off the +galling yoke before it be rivetted on them; they will be drove to +it, and who can blame them? Who can blame a galley-slave for +making his escape?—Britain will miscarry in her vile projects, +her knight errant, her Don Quixote schemes in America: America +will resist; they are not easily to be subdued (nay, 'tis impossible); +Britain will find it a harder task than to conquer France and +Spain united, and will cost 'em more blood and treasure than a +twice Seven Years' War with those European powers; they will +stand out till Britons are tired. Britain will invite her with kind +promises and open arms; America will reject them; America will +triumph, rejoice and flourish, and become the glory of the earth; +Britain will languidly hold down her head, and become first a +prey to a vile Pretender, and then be subject to the ravagers of +Europe. I love the Americans, because they love liberty. Liberty +flourishes in the wilds of America. I honour the plant, I +revere the tree, and would cherish its branches. Let us, my +friends, join hands with them, follow their example, and endeavour +to support expiring liberty in Britain; whilst I have a +tongue to speak, I will support her wherever found; while I have +crutches to crawl with, I will try to find her out, and with the +voice of an archangel will demand for a sacrifice to the nation +those miscreants who have wickedly and wantonly been the ruin +of their country. O Liberty! O my Country!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lord Religion.</span> O Religion! O Virtue! whither art thou +fleeing? O thou Defender of the Faith? O ye mighty Lords<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_306" id="Page_306">[Pg 306]</a></span> +and Commons! O ye deluded Bishops, ye learned props of our +unerring church, who preach up vengeance, force and fire, instead +of peace! be wise in time, lest the Americans be driven to work +out their own salvation without fear or trembling.</p> + +<p class="stagedir">[<i>Exeunt.</i></p> + + +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Scene</span> II.</p> + +<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Lord Patriot</span>, <span class="smcap">Bold Irishman</span>, <span class="smcap">Colonel</span>.</p> + +<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Bold Irishman.</span></p> + +<p>That Brazen Lawyer,<a name="FNanchor_7_7" id="FNanchor_7_7"></a><a href="#Footnote_7_7" class="fnanchor">[7]</a> that Lord Chancellor, that wou'd be, +held forth surprisingly last night, he beat the drum in your ears, +brother soldier.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Colonel.</span> I think he did; he beat a Tatoo for us all.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lord Patriot.</span> No politicians, but lawyer politicians, it seems +will go down; if we believe him, we must all turn lawyers now, +and prate away the liberties of the nation.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Colonel.</span> Aye, first we must learn to rail at the clamourous +faction, disappointed politicians—ever restless—ever plotting—constantly +thwarting government, in laudable and blameable +purposes.—Inconsiderable party—inconsistent in their own politics—hostile +to all government, soured by disappointment, and +urged by want—proceeding to unjustifiable lengths—and then +sound the magnanimity of a British senate, animated by the +sacred fire caught from a high-spirited people—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Bold Irishman.</span> And the devil knows what beside—Magnanimity +and sacred fire, indeed!—Very magnanimous sounds, but +pompous nothings! Why did he not tell us where was the +magnanimity of the British senate at the time of the dispute +about Falkland's Island? What sort of fire animated them +then?—Where was the high spirit of the people?—Strange sort +of fire, and strange sort of spirit, to give up to our inveterate +enemies, the Spaniards, our property unasked for, and cut our +best friends and brethren, the Americans' throats, for defending +theirs against lawless tyranny; their sacred fire became then +all fume, and the strength of their boasted spirits evaporated +into invisible effluvium; the giant then sunk sure enough spontaneously +into a dwarf; and now, it seems, the dwarf having been +feeding upon smoky fire and evaporated spirits, is endeavouring +to swell himself into a giant again, like the frog in the fable, +till he bursts himself in silent thunder—But let the mighty +Philistine, the Goliath Paramount, and his oracle Mocklaw,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_307" id="Page_307">[Pg 307]</a></span> +with their thunder bellowed from the brazen mortar-piece of a +turn-coat lawyer, have a care of the little American David!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lord Patriot.</span> Aye, indeed! America will prove a second +Sampson to 'em; they may put out his eyes for a while, but +he'll pull their house down about their ears for all that. Mr. +Brazen seem'd surpris'd at the thought of relinquishing America, +and bawl'd out with the vociferation of an old miser that had +been robb'd—Relinquish America! relinquish America! forbid +it heavens! But let him and his masters take great care, or +America will save 'em the trouble, and relinquish Britain.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Colonel.</span> Or I'm much mistaken, Brazen says, establish +first your superiority, and then talk of negotiating.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lord Patriot.</span> That doctrine suits 'em best; just like a +cowardly pickpocket, or a bloody highwayman, knock a man +down first, and then tell him stand and deliver.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Colonel.</span> A just comparison, and excellent simile, by my +soul! But I'm surpris'd he did not include the Clergy among +the number of professions unfit (as he said) to be politicians.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Bold Irishman.</span> Did you ever know a lawyer to be concerned +with religion, unless he got a fee by it? he'll take care and steer +clear of that; if it don't come in his way, he'll never break his +neck over a church bible, I warrant you—Mammon is his god—Judge +Jeffereys is his priest—Star-chamber doctrine is his +creed—fire, flames and faggot, blood, murder, halters and +thund'ring cannon are the ceremonies of his church—and lies, +misrepresentations, deceit, hypocrisy and dissimulation are the +articles of his religion.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lord Patriot.</span> You make him a monster, indeed.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Bold Irishman.</span> Not half so bad as he is, my Lord; he's following +close to the heels of that profound sage, that oracle, +Mocklaw, his tutor: I can compare the whole herd of them to +nothing else but to the swine we read of running headlong down +the hill, Paramount their devil, Mocklaw the evil spirit, and +Brazen their driver.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Colonel.</span> And thus they'll drive liberty from out the land; but +when a brave people, like the Americans, from their infancy us'd +to liberty (not as a gift, but who inherit it as a birth-right, but not +as a mess of pottage, to be bought by, or sold to, ev'ry hungry +glutton of a minister) find attempts made to reduce them to +slavery, they generally take some desperate successful measure +for their deliverance. I should not be at all surpris'd to hear of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_308" id="Page_308">[Pg 308]</a></span> +independency proclaim'd throughout their land, of Britain's +armies beat, their fleets burnt, sunk, or otherwise destroy'd. +The same principle which Mr. Brazen speaks of, that inspires +British soldiers to fight, namely the ferment of youthful blood, the +high spirit of the people, a love of glory, and a sense of national +honour, will inspire the Americans to withstand them; to which +I may add, liberty and property.—But what is national honour? +Why, national pride.—What is national glory? Why, national +nonsense, when put in competition with liberty and property.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lord Patriot.</span> Of Britain I fear liberty has taken its farewell, +the aspiring wings of tyranny hath long hovered over, and +the over-shadowing influence of bribery hath eclips'd its rays +and dark'ned its lustre; the huge Paramount, that temporal +deity, that golden calf, finds servile wretches enough so base as +to bow down, worship and adore his gilded horns;—let 'em e'en +if they will:—But as for me, tho' I should stand alone, I would +spurn the brute, were he forty-five<a name="FNanchor_8_8" id="FNanchor_8_8"></a><a href="#Footnote_8_8" class="fnanchor">[8]</a> times greater than he is; +I'll administer, ere long, such an emetic to him, as shall make +the monster disgorge the forty millions yet unaccounted for, +and never shall it be said, that Patriot ever feared or truckled +to him, or kept a silent tongue when it should speak.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Bold Irishman.</span> There I'll shake hands with you, and my +tongue shall echo in their ears, make their arched ceiling speak, +the treasury bench crack, and the great chair of their great +speaker tremble, and never will I cease lashing them, while lashing +is good, or hope remains; and when the voice of poor liberty +can no longer be heard in Britain or Hibernia, let's give Caledonia +a kick with our heels, and away with the goddess to the +American shore, crown her, and defy the grim king of tyranny, +at his peril, to set his foot there.—Here let him stay, and wallow +in sackcloth and ashes, like a beast as he is, and, Nebuchadnezzar-like, +eat grass and thistles.</p> + +<p class="stagedir">[<i>Exeunt.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>See Paramount, upon his awful throne,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Striving to make each freeman's purse his own!</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>While Lords and Commons most as one agree,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>To grace his head with crown of tyranny.</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>They spurn the laws,—force constitution locks,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>To seize each subject's coffer, chest and box;</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Send justice packing, as tho' too pure unmix'd,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>And hug the tyrant, as if by law he's fix'd.</i><br /></span> +</div></div> +<div class="footnotes"><h3>FOOTNOTES:</h3> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_7_7" id="Footnote_7_7"></a><a href="#FNanchor_7_7"><span class="label">[7]</span></a> See Wedderburne's Speech.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_8_8" id="Footnote_8_8"></a><a href="#FNanchor_8_8"><span class="label">[8]</span></a> Alluding to North-Briton, Number forty-five.</p></div> +</div> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_309" id="Page_309">[Pg 309]</a></span></p> + + +<h2 class="gap3"><a name="ACT_III" id="ACT_III"></a>ACT III.</h2> + + +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Scene</span> I. <i>In Boston.</i></p> + +<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Selectman</span>, <span class="smcap">Citizen</span>.</p> + +<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Selectman.</span></p> + +<p>At length, it seems, the bloody flag is hung out, the ministry +and parliament, ever studious in mischief, and bent on our +destruction, have ordered troops and ships of war to shut our +ports, and starve us into submission.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Citizen.</span> And compel us to be slaves; I have heard so. It is +a fashionable way to requite us for our loyalty, for the present +we made them of Louisburg, for our protection at Duquesne, +for the assistance we gave them at Quebec, Martinico, Guadaloupe +and the Havannah. Blast their councils, spurn their ingratitude! +Soul of Pepperel! whither art thou fled?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Selectman.</span> They seem to be guided by some secret demon; +this stopping our ports and depriving us of all trade is cruel, +calculated to starve and beggar thousands of families, more +spiteful than politic, more to their own disadvantage than +ours: But we can resolve to do without trade; it will be the +means of banishing luxury, which has ting'd the simplicity and +spotless innocence of our once happy asylum.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Citizen.</span> We thank heaven, we have the necessaries of life +in abundance, even to an exuberant plenty; and how oft have +our hospitable tables fed numbers of those ungrateful monsters, +who would now, if they could, famish us?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Selectman.</span> No doubt, as we abound in those temporal +blessings, it has tempted them to pick our pockets by violence, +in hopes of treasures more to their minds.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Citizen.</span> In that these thirsters after gold and human blood +will be disappointed. No Perus or Mexicos here they'll find; +but the demon you speak of, tho' he acts in secret, is notoriously +known. Lord Paramount is that demon, that bird of prey, that +ministerial cormorant, that waits to devour, and who first +thought to disturb the repose of America; a wretch, no friend +to mankind, who acts thro' envy and avarice, like Satan, who +'scap'd from hell to disturb the regions of paradise; after ransacking +Britain and Hibernia for gold, the growth of hell, to +feed his luxury, now waits to rifle the bowels of America.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Selectman.</span> May he prove more unsuccessful than Satan; +blind politics, rank infatuation, madness detestable, the con<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_310" id="Page_310">[Pg 310]</a></span>comitants +of arbitrary power! They can never think to succeed; +but should they conquer, they'll find that he who overcometh by +force and blood, hath overcome but half his foe. Capt. Preston's +massacre is too recent in our memories; and if a few troops dar'd +to commit such hellish unprovok'd barbarities, what may we +not expect from legions arm'd with vengeance, whose leaders +harbour principles repugnant to freedom, and possess'd with +more than diabolical notions? Surely our friends will oppose +them with all the power heaven has given them.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Citizen.</span> Nothing more certain; each citizen and each individual +inhabitant of America are bound by the ties of nature; +the laws of God and man justify such a procedure; passive +obedience for passive slaves, and non-resistance for servile +wretches who know not, neither deserve, the sweets of liberty. +As for me and my house, thank God, such detestable doctrine +never did, nor ever shall, enter over my threshold.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Selectman.</span> Would all America were so zealous as you.—The +appointment of a general Continental Congress was a +judicious measure, and will prove the salvation of this new +world, where counsel mature, wisdom and strength united; it +will prove a barrier, a bulwark, against the encroachments of +arbitrary power.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Citizen.</span> I much approve of the choice of a congress; America +is young, she will be to it like a tender nursing mother, she will +give it the paps of virtue to suck, cherish it with the milk of +liberty, and fatten it on the cream of patriotism; she will train +it up in its youth, and teach it to shun the poison of British +voluptuousness, and instruct it to keep better company. Let +us, my friend, support her all in our power, and set on foot an +immediate association; they will form an intrenchment, too +strong for ministerial tyranny to o'erleap.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Selectman.</span> I am determined so to do, it may prevent the +farther effusion of blood.</p> + + +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Scene</span> II.</p> + +<p class="center"><i>Enter a <span class="smcap">Minister</span>.</i></p> + +<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Minister.</span></p> + +<p>My friends, I yet will hail you good morrow, tho' I know not +how long we may be indulg'd that liberty to each other; doleful +tidings I have to tell.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_311" id="Page_311">[Pg 311]</a></span></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Selectman.</span> With sorrow we have heard it, good morrow, sir.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Minister.</span> Wou'd to God it may prove false, and that it +may vanish like the dew of the morning.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Citizen.</span> Beyond a doubt, sir, it's too true.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Minister.</span> Perhaps, my friends, you have not heard all.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Selectman.</span> We have heard too much, of the troops and +ships coming over, we suppose you mean; we have not heard +more, if more there be.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Minister.</span> Then worse I have to tell, tidings which will raise +the blood of the patriot, and put your virtue to the proof, will +kindle such an ardent love of liberty in your breasts, as time +will not be able to exterminate—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Citizen.</span> Pray, let us hear it, I'm all on fire.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Selectman.</span> I'm impatient to know it, welcome or unwelcome.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Minister.</span> Such as it is, take it; your charter is annihilated; +you are all, all declared rebels; your estates are to be confiscated; +your patrimony to be given to those who never labour'd for it; +popery to be established in the room of the true catholic faith; +the Old South, and other houses of our God, converted perhaps +into nunneries, inquisitions, barracks and common jails, where +you will perish with want and famine, or suffer an ignominious +death; your wives, children, dearest relations and friends forever +separated from you in this world, without the prospect of receiving +any comfort or consolation from them, or the least hope of +affording any to them.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Selectman.</span> Perish the thought!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Citizen.</span> I've heard enough!—To arms! my dear friends, to +arms! and death or freedom be our motto!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Minister.</span> A noble resolution! Posterity will crown the urn +of the patriot who consecrates his talents to virtue and freedom; +his name shall not be forgot; his reputation shall bloom with +unfading verdure, while the name of the tyrant, like his vile +body, shall moulder in the dust. Put your trust in the Lord of +hosts, he is your strong tower, he is your helper and defense, he +will guide and strengthen the arm of flesh, and scatter your enemies +like chaff.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Selectman.</span> Let us not hesitate.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Citizen.</span> Not a single moment;—'tis like to prove a mortal +strife, a never-ending contest.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Minister.</span> Delays may be dangerous.—Go and awake your +brethren that sleep;—rouse them up from their lethargy and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_312" id="Page_312">[Pg 312]</a></span> +supineness, and join, with confidence, temporal with spiritual +weapons. Perhaps they be now landing, and this moment, this +very moment, may be the last of your liberty. Prepare yourselves—be +ready—stand fast—ye know not the day nor the +hour. May the Ruler of all send us liberty and life. Adieu! +my friends.</p> + +<p class="stagedir">[<i>Exeunt.</i></p> + + +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Scene</span> III. <i>In a street in Boston.</i></p> + +<p class="hangindent"><i>Frequent town-meetings and consultations amongst the inhabitants;—<span class="smcap">Lord +Boston</span> arrives with the forces and ships;—lands and +fortifies Boston.</i></p> + +<p class="center"><i><span class="smcap">Whig</span> and <span class="smcap">Tory</span>.</i></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Whig.</span> I have said and done all that man could say or do.—'Tis +wrong, I insist upon it, and time will show it, to suffer them +to take possession of Castle William and fortify Boston Neck.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Tory.</span> I cannot see, good sir, of what advantage it will be to +them;—they've only a mind, I suppose, to keep their soldiers +from being inactive, which may prejudice their health.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Whig.</span> I wish it may prove so, I would very gladly confess +your superior knowledge in military manœuvres; but till then, +suffer me to tell you, it's a stroke the most fatal to us,—no less, +sir, but to cut off the communication between the town and +country, making prisoners of us all by degrees, and give 'em an +opportunity of making excursions, and in a short time subdue +us without resistance.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Tory.</span> I think your fears are groundless.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Whig.</span> Sir, my reason is not to be trifled with. Do you not +see or hear ev'ry day of insults and provocations to the peaceable +inhabitants? This is only a prelude. Can men of spirit bear +forever with such usage? I know not what business they have +here at all.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Tory.</span> I suppose they're come to protect us.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Whig.</span> Damn such protectors, such cut-throat villains; protect +us? from what? from whom?—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Tory.</span> Nay, sir, I know not their business;—let us yet bear +with them till we know the success of the petition from the +Congress;—if unfavourable, then it will be our time.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Whig.</span> Then, I fear, it will be too late; all that time we lose, +and they gain ground; I have no notion of trusting to the success +of petitions, waiting twelve months for no answer at all. Our<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_313" id="Page_313">[Pg 313]</a></span> +assemblies have petitioned often, and as often in vain; 't would be +a miracle in these days to hear of an American petition being +granted; their omnipotences, their demi-godships (as they think +themselves) no doubt think it too great a favour done us to +throw our petitions under their table, much less vouchsafe to +read them.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Tory.</span> You go too far;—the power of King, Lords and Commons +is uncontroulable.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Whig.</span> With respect to tyrannising they would make it so, +if they could, I know, but there's a good deal to be said and done +first; we have more than half the bargain to make.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Tory.</span> Sure you would not go to dispute by arms with Great-Britain.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Whig.</span> Sure I would not suffer you to pick my pocket, sir.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Tory.</span> If I did, the law is open for you—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Whig.</span> I have but a poor opinion of law, when the devil sits +judge.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Tory.</span> What would you do then, sir, if I was to pick your +pocket?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Whig.</span> Break your head, sir—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Tory.</span> Sure you don't mean as you say, sir—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Whig.</span> I surely do—try me, sir—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Tory.</span> Excuse me, sir, I am not of your mind, I would avoid +every thing that has the appearance of rashness.—Great-Britain's +power, sir—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Whig.</span> Great-Britain's power, sir, is too much magnified, +'t will soon grow weak, by endeavouring to make slaves of +American freemen; we are not Africans yet, neither bond-slaves.—You +would avoid and discourage every thing that has the +appearance of patriotism, you mean.—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Tory.</span> Who? me, sir?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Whig.</span> Yes, you, sir;—you go slyly pimping, spying and +sneaking about, cajoling the ignorant, and insinuating bugbear +notions of Great-Britain's mighty power into weak people's ears, +that we may tamely give all up, and you be rewarded, perhaps, +with the office of judge of the admiralty, or continental hangman, +for ought I know.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Tory.</span> Who? me, sir?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Whig.</span> Aye, you, sir;—and let me tell you, sir, you've been +long suspected—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Tory.</span> Of what, sir?<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_314" id="Page_314">[Pg 314]</a></span></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Whig.</span> For a rank Tory, sir.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Tory.</span> What mean you, sir?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Whig.</span> I repeat it again—suspected to be an enemy to your +country.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Tory.</span> By whom, sir? Can you show me an instance?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Whig.</span> From your present discourse I suspect you—and from +your connections and artful behaviour all suspect you.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Tory.</span> Can you give me a proof?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Whig.</span> Not a point blank proof, as to my own knowledge; +you're so much of a Jesuit, you have put it out of my power;—but +strong circumstances by information, such as amount to a +proof in the present case, sir, I can furnish you with.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Tory.</span> Sir, you may be mistaken.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Whig.</span> 'Tis not possible, my informant knows you too well.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Tory.</span> Who is your informant, sir?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Whig.</span> A gentleman, sir; and if you'll give yourself the trouble +to walk with me, I'll soon produce him.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Tory.</span> Another time; I cannot stay now;—'tis dinner time.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Whig.</span> That's the time to find him.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Tory.</span> I cannot stay now.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Whig.</span> We'll call at your house then.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Tory.</span> I dine abroad, sir.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Whig.</span> Be gone, you scoundrel! I'll watch your waters; +'tis time to clear the land of such infernal vermin.</p> + +<p class="stagedir">[<i>Exeunt both different ways.</i></p> + + +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Scene</span> IV. <i>In Boston, while the Regulars were flying from +Lexington.</i></p> + +<p class="center"><i><span class="smcap">Lord Boston</span> surrounded by his guards and a few officers.</i></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lord Boston.</span> If Colonel Smith succeeds in his embassy, +and I think there's no doubt of it, I shall have the pleasure this +ev'ning, I expect, of having my friends Hancock and Adams's +good company; I'll make each of them a present of a pair of +handsome iron ruffles, and Major Provost shall provide a suitable +entertainment for them in his apartment.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Officer.</span> Sure they'll not be so unpolite as to refuse your +Excellency's kind invitation.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lord Boston.</span> Shou'd they, Colonel Smith and Major Pitcairn +have my orders to make use of all their rhetoric and the +persuasive eloquence of British thunder.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_315" id="Page_315">[Pg 315]</a></span></p> + +<p class="center"><i>Enter a <span class="smcap">Messenger</span> in haste.</i></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Messenger.</span> I bring your Excellency unwelcome tidings—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lord Boston.</span> For heaven's sake! from what quarter?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Messenger.</span> From Lexington plains.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lord Boston.</span> 'Tis impossible!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Messenger.</span> Too true, sir.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lord Boston.</span> Say—what is it? Speak what you know.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Messenger.</span> Colonel Smith is defeated, and fast retreating.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lord Boston.</span> Good God!—What does he say? Mercy on me!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Messenger.</span> They're flying before the enemy.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lord Boston.</span> Britons turn their backs before the Rebels!—The +Rebels put Britons to flight?—Said you not so?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Messenger.</span> They are routed, sir;—they are flying this +instant;—the Provincials are numerous, and hourly gaining +strength;—they have nearly surrounded our troops. A reinforcement, +sir—a timely succour may save the shatter'd remnant +Speedily! speedily, sir! or they're irretrievably lost!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lord Boston.</span> Good God! What does he say? Can it be +possible?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Messenger.</span> Lose no time, sir.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lord Boston.</span> What can I do?—Oh dear!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Officer.</span> Draw off a detachment—form a brigade; prepare +part of the train; send for Lord Percy; let the drums beat to +arms.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lord Boston.</span> Aye, do, Captain; you know how, better than +I. (<i>Exit <span class="smcap">Officer</span>.</i>) Did the Rebels dare to fire on the king's +troops? Had they the courage? Guards, keep round me.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Messenger.</span> They're like lions; they have killed many of +our bravest officers and men; and if not checked instantly, will +totally surround them, and make the whole prisoners. This is +no time to parley, sir.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lord Boston.</span> No, indeed; what will become of me?</p> + +<p class="center"><i>Enter <span class="smcap">Earl Percy</span>.</i></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Earl Percy.</span> Your orders, sir.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lord Boston.</span> Haste, my good Percy, immediately take +command of the brigade of reinforcement, and fly to the assistance +of poor Smith!—Lose no time, lest they be all cut off, and +the Rebels improve their advantage, and be upon us; and God +knows what quarter they'll give.—Haste, my noble Earl!—Speedily!—Speedily!—Where's +my guard?<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_316" id="Page_316">[Pg 316]</a></span></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Earl Percy.</span> I'm gone, sir.</p> + +<p class="stagedir">[<i>Exeunt <span class="smcap">Percy</span> and <span class="smcap">Officers</span>—drums beating to arms.</i></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lord Boston.</span> What means this flutt'ring round my heart? +this unusual chilness? Is it fear? No, it cannot be, it must +proceed from my great anxiety, my perturbation of mind for the +fate of my countrymen. A drowsiness hangs o'er my eyelids;—fain +would I repose myself a short time;—but I must not;—I +must wait;—I'll to the top of yon eminence,—there I shall be +safer. Here I cannot stay;—there I may behold something +favourable to calm this tumult in my breast.—But, alas! I +fear—Guards, attend me.</p> + +<p class="stagedir">[<i>Exeunt <span class="smcap">Lord Boston</span> and <span class="smcap">Guards</span>.</i></p> + +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Scene</span> V. <i><span class="smcap">Lord Boston</span> and <span class="smcap">Guards</span> on a hill in Boston, that +overlooks Charlestown.</i></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lord Boston.</span> Clouds of dust and smoke intercept my sight; +I cannot see; I hear the noise of cannon—Percy's cannon—Grant +him success!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Officer of Guard.</span> Methinks, sir, I see British colours waving.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lord Boston.</span> Some ray of hope.—Have they got so near?—Captain, +keep a good lookout; tell me every thing you see. My +eyes are wondrous dim.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Officer.</span> The two brigades have join'd—Now Admiral Tombstone +bellows his lower tier on the Provincials. How does your +Excellency?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lord Boston.</span> Right;—more hope still.—I'm bravely to what +I was. Which way do our forces tend?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Officer.</span> I can distinguish nothing for a certainty now; such +smoke and dust!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lord Boston.</span> God grant Percy courage!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Officer.</span> His ancestors were brave, sir.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lord Boston.</span> Aye, that's no rule—no rule, Captain; so +were mine.—A heavy firing now.—The Rebels must be very +numerous—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Officer.</span> They're like caterpillars; as numerous as the +locusts of Egypt.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lord Boston.</span> Look out, Captain, God help you, look out.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Officer.</span> I do, sir.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lord Boston.</span> What do you see now? Hark! what dreadful +noise!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">One of the Guard.</span> [<i>Aside.</i>] How damn'd afraid he is.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_317" id="Page_317">[Pg 317]</a></span></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Another of the Guard.</span> [<i>Aside.</i>] He's one of your chimney +corner Generals—an old granny.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Officer.</span> If I mistake not, our troops are fast retreating; their +fire slackens; the noise increases.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lord Boston.</span> Oh, Captain, don't say so!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Officer.</span> 'Tis true, sir, they're running—the enemy shout +victory.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lord Boston.</span> Upon your honour?—say—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Officer.</span> Upon my honour, sir, they're flying t'wards Charlestown. +Percy's beat;—I'm afraid he's lost his artillery.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lord Boston.</span> Then 'tis all over—the day is lost—what more +can we do?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Officer.</span> We may, with the few troops left in Boston, yet +afford them some succour, and cover their retreat across the +water; 'tis impossible to do more.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lord Boston.</span> Go instantly; I'll wait your return. Try your +utmost to prevent the Rebels from crossing. Success attend you, +my dear Captain, God prosper you! [<i>Exit <span class="smcap">Officer</span>.</i>] Alas! +alas! my glory's gone; my honour's stain'd. My dear guards, +don't leave me, and you shall have plenty of porter and sour-crout.</p> + + +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Scene</span> VI. <i><span class="smcap">Roger</span> and <span class="smcap">Dick</span>, two shepherds near Lexington, after +the defeat and flight of the Regulars.</i></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Roger.</span> Whilst early looking, Dick, ere the sun was seen +to tinge the brow of the mountain, for my flock of sheep, nor +dreaming of approaching evil, suddenly mine eyes beheld from +yon hill a cloud of dust arise at a small distance; the intermediate +space were thick set with laurels, willows, evergreens, and bushes +of various kinds, the growth of wild nature, and which hid the +danger from my eyes, thinking perchance my flock had thither +stray'd; I descended, and straight onward went; but, Dick, +judge you my thoughts at such a disappointment: Instead of +my innocent flock of sheep, I found myself almost encircled by a +herd of ravenous British wolves.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Dick.</span> Dangerous must have been your situation, Roger, +whatever were your thoughts.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Roger.</span> I soon discovered my mistake; finding a hostile +appearance, I instantly turn'd myself about, and fled to alarm +the shepherds.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_318" id="Page_318">[Pg 318]</a></span></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Dick.</span> Did they pursue you?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Roger.</span> They did; but having the start, and being acquainted +with the by-ways, I presently got clear of their voracious jaws.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Dick.</span> A lucky escape, indeed, Roger; and what route did they +take after that?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Roger.</span> Onwards, t'wards Lexington, devouring geese, cattle +and swine, with fury and rage, which, no doubt, was increased by +their disappointment; and what may appear strange to you +Dick (tho' no more strange than true), is, they seem'd to be +possessed of a kind of brutish music, growling something like our +favourite tune Yankee Doodle (perhaps in ridicule), till it were +almost threadbare, seeming vastly pleased (monkey-like) with +their mimickry, as tho' it provoked us much.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Dick.</span> Nature, Roger, has furnish'd some brute animals with +voices, or, more properly speaking, with organs of sound that +nearly resemble the human. I have heard of crocodiles weeping +like a child, to decoy the unwary traveller, who is no sooner +within their reach, but they seize and devour instantly.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Roger.</span> Very true, Dick, I have read of the same; and these +wolves, being of the canine breed, and having the properties of +blood-hounds, no doubt are possess'd of a more acute sense of +smelling, more reason, instinct, sagacity, or what shall I call it? +than all other brutes. It might have been a piece of cunning of +theirs, peculiar to them, to make themselves pass for shepherds, +and decoy our flocks; for, as you know, Dick, all our shepherds +both play and sing Yankee Doodle, our sheep and lambs are as +well acquainted with that tune as ourselves, and always make +up to us whene'er they hear the sound.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Dick.</span> Yes, Roger; and now you put me in mind of it I'll tell +you of something surprising in my turn: I have an old ram and +an old ewe, that, whenever they sing Yankee Doodle together, +a skilful musician can scarcely distinguish it from the bass and +tenor of an organ.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Roger.</span> Surprising indeed, Dick, nor do I in the least doubt it; +and why not, as well as Balaam's ass, speak? and I might add, +many other asses, now-a-days; and yet, how might that music +be improved by a judicious disposition of its various parts, by +the addition of a proper number of sheep and young lambs; +'t would then likewise resemble the counter, counter tenor, treble, +and finest pipes of an organ, and might be truly called nature's +organ; methinks, Dick, I could forever sit and hear such music,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_319" id="Page_319">[Pg 319]</a></span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Where all the parts in complication roll,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>And with its charming music feast the soul!</i><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p><span class="smcap">Dick.</span> Delightful, indeed; I'll attempt it with what little skill +I have in music; we may then defy these wolves to imitate it, +and thereby save our flocks: I am well convinced, Roger, these +wolves intended it rather as a decoy than by way of ridicule, +because they live by cunning and deception; besides, they could +never mean to ridicule a piece of music, a tune, of which such +brutes cannot be supposed to be judges, and, which is allowed +by the best masters of music to be a composition of the most sublime +kind, and would have done honour to a Handel or a Correllius. +Well, go on, Roger, I long to hear the whole.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Roger.</span> When they came to Lexington, where a flock of our +innocent sheep and young lambs, as usual, were feeding and +sporting on the plain, these dogs of violence and rapine with +haughty stride advanc'd, and berated them in a new and unheard +of language to us.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Dick.</span> I suppose learn'd at their own fam'd universities—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Roger.</span> No doubt; they had teachers among them—two old +wolves their leaders, not unlike in features to Smith and Pitcairn, +as striving to outvie each other in the very dregs of brutal eloquence, +and more than Billingsgate jargon, howl'd in their ears +such a peal of new-fangled execrations, and hell-invented oratory, +till that day unheard in New-England, as struck the whole flock +with horror, and made them for a while stand aghast, as tho' +all the wolves in the forest had broke loose upon them.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Dick.</span> Oh, shocking!—Roger, go on.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Roger.</span> Not content with this, their murdering leaders, with +premeditated malice, keen appetite, and without provocation, +gave the howl for the onset, when instantly the whole herd, as if +the devil had entered into them, ran violently down the hill, and +fixed their talons and jaws upon them, and as quick as lightning +eight innocent young lambs fell a sacrifice to their fury, and victims +to their rapacity; the very houses of our God were no longer +a sanctuary; many they tore to pieces, and some at the very foot +of the altar; others were dragged out as in a wanton, gamesome +mood.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Dick.</span> Barbarity inexpressible! more than savage cruelty! I +hope you'll make their master pay for 'em; there is a law of this +province, Roger, which obliges the owner of such dogs to pay for +the mischief they do.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_320" id="Page_320">[Pg 320]</a></span></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Roger.</span> I know it, Dick; he shall pay, never fear, and that +handsomely too; he has paid part of it already.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Dick.</span> Who is their master, Roger?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Roger.</span> One Lord Paramount; they call him a free-booter; +a fellow who pretends to be proprietor of all America, and says +he has a deed for it, and chief ranger of all the flocks, and pretends +to have a patent for it; has been a long time in the practice +of killing and stealing sheep in England and Ireland, and had +like to have been hang'd for it there, but was reprieved by the +means of his friend <i>George</i>—I forgot his other name—not +Grenville—not George the Second—but another George—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Dick.</span> It's no matter, he'll be hang'd yet; he has sent his dogs +to a wrong place, and lugg'd the wrong sow by the ear; he should +have sent them to Newfoundland, or Kamchatka, there's no +sheep there—But never mind, go on, Roger.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Roger.</span> Nor was their voracious appetites satiated there; +they rush'd into the town of Concord, and proceeded to devour +every thing that lay in their way; and those brute devils, like +Sampson's foxes (and as tho' they were men), thrice attempted +with firebrands to destroy our corn, our town-house and habitations.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Dick.</span> Heavens! Could not all this provoke you?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Roger.</span> It did; rage prompted us at length, and found us +arms 'gainst such hellish mischief to oppose.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Dick.</span> Oh, would I had been there!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Roger.</span> Our numbers increasing, and arm'd with revenge, we +in our turn play'd the man; they, unus'd to wounds, with hideous +yelling soon betook themselves to a precipitate and confused +flight, nor did we give o'er the chase, till Phœbus grew drowsy, +bade us desist, and wished us a good night.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Dick.</span> Of some part of their hasty retreat I was a joyful +spectator, I saw their tongues lolling out of their mouths, and +heard them pant like hunted wolves indeed.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Roger.</span> Did you not hear how their mirth was turn'd into +mourning? their fury into astonishment? how soon they quitted +their howling Yankee Doodle, and chang'd their notes to bellowing? +how nimbly (yet against their will) they betook themselves +to dancing? And he was then the bravest dog that beat time +the swiftest, and footed Yankee Doodle the nimblest.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Dick.</span> Well pleased, Roger, was I with the chase, and glorious +sport it was: I oft perceiv'd them tumbling o'er each other heels<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_321" id="Page_321">[Pg 321]</a></span> +over head; nor did one dare stay to help his brother—but, +with bloody breech, made the best of his way—nor ever stopped +till they were got safe within their lurking-holes—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Roger.</span> From whence they have not the courage to peep out, +unless four to one, except (like a skunk) forc'd by famine.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Dick.</span> May this be the fate of all those prowling sheep-stealers, +it behooves the shepherds to double the watch, to take uncommon +precaution and care of their tender flocks, more especially as +this is like to be an uncommon severe winter, by the appearance +of wolves, so early in the season—but, hark!—Roger, methinks +I hear the sound of melody warbling thro' the grove—Let's sit a +while, and partake of it unseen.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Roger.</span> With all my heart.—Most delightful harmony! This +is the First of May; our shepherds and nymphs are celebrating +our glorious St. Tammany's day; we'll hear the song out, and +then join in the frolic, and chorus it o'er and o'er again—This +day shall be devoted to joy and festivity.</p> + +<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Song.</span></p> + +<p class="center">[<span class="smcap">Tune.</span> <i>The hounds are all out, &c.</i>]</p> + +<p class="center">1.</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">Of <i>St. George</i>, or <i>St. Bute</i>, let the poet Laureat sing,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of <i>Pharaoh</i> or <i>Pluto</i> of old,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While he rhymes forth their praise, in false, flattering lays,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I'll sing of St. Tamm'ny the bold, my brave boys.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center">2.</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">Let Hibernia's sons boast, make Patrick their toast;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Scots Andrew's fame spread abroad.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Potatoes and oats, and Welch leeks for Welch goats,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Was never St. Tammany's food, my brave boys.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center">3.</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">In freedom's bright cause, Tamm'ny pled with applause,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And reason'd most justly from nature;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For this, this was his song, all, all the day long:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Liberty's the right of each creature, brave boys.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center">4.</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">Whilst under an oak his great parliament sat,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His throne was the crotch of the tree;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With Solomon's look, without statutes or book,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He wisely sent forth his decree, my brave boys.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_322" id="Page_322">[Pg 322]</a></span><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center">5.</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">His subjects stood round, not the least noise or sound,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whilst freedom blaz'd full in each face:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So plain were the laws, and each pleaded his cause;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That might <i>Bute</i>, <i>North</i> and <i>Mansfield</i> disgrace, my brave boys.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center">6.</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">No duties, nor stamps, their blest liberty cramps,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A king, tho' no <i>tyrant</i>, was he;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He did oft'times declare, nay, sometimes wou'd swear,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The least of his subjects were free, my brave boys.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center">7.</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">He, as king of the woods, of the rivers and floods,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Had a right all beasts to controul;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet, content with a few, to give nature her due:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So gen'rous was Tammany's soul! my brave boys.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center">8.</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">In the morn he arose, and a-hunting he goes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bold Nimrod his second was he.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For his breakfast he'd take a large venison steak,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And despis'd your slip-slops and tea, my brave boys.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center">9.</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">While all in a row, with squaw, dog and bow,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Vermilion adorning his face,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With feathery head he rang'd the woods wide:<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>St. George</i> sure had never such grace, my brave boys?<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center">10.</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">His jetty black hair, such as Buckskin saints wear,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Perfumed with bear's grease well smear'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which illum'd the saint's face, and ran down apace,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like the oil from Aaron's old beard, my brave boys.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center">11.</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">The strong nervous deer, with amazing career,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In swiftness he'd fairly run down;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, like Sampson, wou'd tear wolf, lion or bear.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ne'er was such a saint as our own, my brave boys.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_323" id="Page_323">[Pg 323]</a></span><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center">12.</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">When he'd run down a stag, he behind him wou'd lag;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For, so noble a soul had he!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He'd stop, tho' he lost it, tradition reports it,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To give him fresh chance to get free, my brave boys.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center">13.</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">With a mighty strong arm, and a masculine bow,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His arrow he drew to the head,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And as sure as he shot, it was ever his lot,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His prey it fell instantly dead, my brave boys.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center">14.</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">His table he spread where the venison bled,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Be thankful, he used to say;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He'd laugh and he'd sing, tho' a saint and a king,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And sumptuously dine on his prey, my brave boys.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center">15.</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">Then over the hills, o'er the mountains and rills<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He'd caper, such was his delight;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And ne'er in his days, Indian history says,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Did lack a good supper at night, my brave boys.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center">16.</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">On an old stump he sat, without cap or hat.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When supper was ready to eat,<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Snap</i>, his dog, he stood by, and cast a sheep's eye<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For ven'son, the king of all meat, my brave boys.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center">17.</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">Like Isaac of old, and both cast in one mould,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tho' a wigwam was Tamm'ny's cottage,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He lov'd sav'ry meat, such that patriarchs eat,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of ven'son and squirrel made pottage, brave boys.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center">18.</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">When fourscore years old, as I've oft'times been told,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To doubt it, sure, would not be right,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With a pipe in his jaw, he'd buss his old squaw,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And get a young saint ev'ry night, my brave boys.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_324" id="Page_324">[Pg 324]</a></span><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center">19.</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">As old age came on, he grew blind, deaf and dumb,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tho' his sport, 'twere hard to keep from it,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Quite tired of life, bid adieu to his wife,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And blazed like the tail of a comet, brave boys.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center">20.</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">What country on earth, then, did ever give birth<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To such a magnanimous saint?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His acts far excel all that history tell,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And language too feeble to paint, my brave boys.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="center">21.</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">Now, to finish my song, a full flowing bowl<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I'll quaff, and sing all the long day,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And with punch and wine paint my cheeks for my saint,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And hail ev'ry First of sweet <i>May</i>, my brave boys.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p><span class="smcap">Dick.</span> What a seraphic voice! how it enlivens my soul! Come +away, away, Roger, the moments are precious.</p> + +<p class="stagedir">[<i>Exeunt <span class="smcap">Dick</span> and <span class="smcap">Roger.</span></i></p> + + +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Scene</span> VII. <i>In a chamber, near Boston, the morning after the +battle of Bunkers-Hill.</i></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Clarissa.</span> How lovely is this new-born day!—The sun rises +with uncommon radiance after the most gloomy night my wearied +eyes ever knew.—The voice of slumber was not heard—the angel +of sleep was fled—and the awful whispers of solemnity and +silence prevented my eye-lids from closing.—No wonder—the +terrors and ideas of yesterday—such a scene of war—of tumult—hurry +and hubbub—of horror and destruction—the direful noise +of conflict—the dismal hissing of iron shot in volleys flying—such +bellowing of mortars—such thund'ring of cannon—such +roaring of musketry—and such clashing of swords and bayonets—such +cries of the wounded—and such streams of blood—such a +noise and crush of houses, steeples, and whole streets of desolate +Charlestown falling—pillars of fire, and the convulsed vortex +of fiery flakes, rolling in flaming wreaths in the air, in dreadful +combustion, seemed as tho' the elements and whole earth were +envelop'd in one general, eternal conflagration and total ruin, +and intermingled with black smoke, ascending, on the wings of +mourning, up to Heaven, seemed piteously to implore the Al<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_325" id="Page_325">[Pg 325]</a></span>mighty +interposition to put a stop to such devastation, lest the +whole earth should be unpeopled in the unnatural conflict—Too, +too much for female heroism to dwell upon—But what are all +those to the terrors that filled my affrighted imagination the +last night?—Dreams—fancies—evil bodings—shadows, phantoms +and ghastly visions continually hovering around my pillow, +goading and harrowing my soul with the most terrific appearances, +not imaginary, but real—Am I awake?—Where are the +British murderers?—where's my husband?—my son?—my +brother?—Something more than human tells me all is not well: +If they are among the slain, 'tis impossible.—I—Oh! [<i>She cries.</i>]</p> + +<p class="center"><i>Enter a <span class="smcap">Neighbour</span></i> [<i>a spectator of the battle</i>].</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Neighbour.</span> Madam, grieve not so much.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Clarissa.</span> Am I wont to grieve without a cause? Wou'd +to God I did;—mock me not—What voice is that? methinks I +know it—some angel sent to comfort me?—welcome then. [<i>She +turns about.</i>] Oh, my Neighbour, is it you? My friend, I have +need of comfort. Hast thou any for me?—say—will you not +speak? Where's my husband?—my son?—my brother? Hast +thou seen them since the battle? Oh! bring me not unwelcome +tidings! [<i>Cries.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Neighbour.</span> [<i>Aside. What shall I say?</i>] Madam, I beheld +them yesterday from an eminence.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Clarissa.</span> Upon that very eminence was I. What then?—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Neighbour.</span> I saw the brave man Warren, your son and +brother.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Clarissa.</span> What? O ye gods!—Speak on friend—stop—what +saw ye?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Neighbour.</span> In the midst of the tempest of war—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Clarissa.</span> Where are they now?—That I saw too—What is +all this?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Neighbour.</span> Madam, hear me—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Clarissa.</span> Then say on—yet—Oh, his looks!—I fear!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Neighbour.</span> When General Putnam bid the vanguard open +their front to the—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Clarissa.</span> Oh, trifle not with me—dear Neighbour!—where +shall I find them?—say—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Neighbour.</span> [<i>Aside. Heavens! must I tell her!</i>] Madam, be +patient—right and left, that all may see who hate us, we are +prepar'd for them<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_326" id="Page_326">[Pg 326]</a></span>—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Clarissa.</span> What then?—Can you find 'em?—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Neighbour.</span> I saw Warren and the other two heroes firm as +Roxbury stand the shock of the enemy's fiercest attacks, and +twice put to flight their boasted phalanx.—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Clarissa.</span> All that I saw, and more; say—wou'd they not +come to me, were they well?—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Neighbour.</span> Madam, hear me—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Clarissa.</span> Oh! he will not speak.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Neighbour.</span> The enemy return'd to the charge, and stumbling +o'er the dead and wounded bodies of their friends, Warren +received them with indissoluble firmness, and notwithstanding +their battalious aspect, in the midst of the battle, tho' surrounded +with foes on ev'ry side—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Clarissa.</span> Oh, my Neighbour!—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Neighbour.</span> Madam—his nervous arm, like a giant refresh'd +with wine, hurl'd destruction where'er he came, breathing heroic +ardour to advent'rous deeds, and long time in even scale the +battle hung, till at last death turn'd pale and affrighted at the +carnage—they ran—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Clarissa.</span> Who ran?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Neighbour.</span> The enemy, Madam, gave way—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Clarissa.</span> Warren never ran—yet—oh! I wou'd he had—I +fear—[<i>Cries.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Neighbour.</span> I say not so, Madam.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Clarissa.</span> What say ye then? he was no coward, Neighbour—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Neighbour.</span> Brave to the last. [<i>Aside. I forgot myself.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Clarissa.</span> What said you? O Heavens! brave to the last! +those words—why do you keep me thus?—cruel—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Neighbour.</span> [<i>Aside. She will know it.</i>] I say, Madam, by some +mistaken orders on our side, the enemy rallied and return'd to +the charge with fresh numbers, and your husband, son, and +brother—Madam—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Clarissa.</span> Stop!—O ye powers!—What?—say no more—yet +let me hear—keep me not thus—tell me, I charge thee—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Neighbour.</span> [<i>Aside. I can hold no longer, she must know it.</i>] +Forgive me, Madam—I saw them fall—and Michael, the archangel, +who vanquish'd Satan, is not more immortal than they. +[<i>Aside. Who can relate such woes without a tear?</i>],</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Clarissa.</span> Oh! I've heard enough—too—too much [<i>Cries.</i>] +yet—if thou hast worse to tell—say on—nought worse can be—O +ye gods!—cruel—cruel—thrice cruel—cou'd ye not leave<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_327" id="Page_327">[Pg 327]</a></span> +me one—[<i>She faints, and is caught by her friend, and placed +in a chair; he rings the bell, the family come in, and endeavour to +bring her to.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Neighbour.</span> With surprising fortitude she heard the melancholy +relation, until I came to the last close—she then gave me +a mournful look, lifted up her eyes, and immediately sunk motionless +into my arms.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Woman.</span> Poor soul!—no wonder—how I sympathize with her +in her distress—my tender bosom can scarcely bear the sight! +A dreadful loss! a most shocking scene it was, that brothers +should with brothers war, and in intestine fierce opposition meet, +to seek the blood of each other, like dogs for a bare bone, who so +oft in generous friendship and commerce join'd, in festivals of +love and joy unanimous as the sons of one kind and indulgent +father, and separately would freely in a good cause spend their +blood and sacrifice their lives for him.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Neighbour.</span> A terrible black day it was, and ever will be +remembered by New-England, when that vile Briton (unworthy +the name of a Briton), Lord Boston (curse the name!), whose +horrid murders stain American soil with blood; perish his name! +a fratricide! 'twas he who fir'd Charlestown, and spread desolation, +fire, flames and smoke in ev'ry corner—he was the wretch, +that waster of the world, that licens'd robber, that blood-stain'd +insulter of a free people, who bears the name of Lord Boston, +but from henceforth shall be called Cain, that pillag'd the ruins, +and dragg'd and murder'd the infant, the aged and infirm—(But +look, she recovers.)</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Clarissa.</span> O ye angels! ye cherubims and seraphims! waft +their souls to bliss, bathe their wounds with angelic balsam, and +crown them with immortality. A faithful, loving and beloved +husband, a promising and filial son, a tender and affectionate +brother: Alas! what a loss!—Whom have I now to comfort me?—What +have I left, but the voice of lamentation: [<i>She weeps.</i>] +Ill-fated bullets—these tears shall sustain me—yes, ye dear +friends! how gladly wou'd I follow you—but alas! I must still +endure tribulation and inquietudes, from which you are now +exempt; I cannot cease to weep, ye brave men, I will mourn +your fall—weep on—flow, mine eyes, and wash away their +blood, till the fountain of sorrow is dried up—but, oh! it never—never +will—my sympathetic soul shall dwell on your bosoms, +and floods of tears shall water your graves; and since all other<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_328" id="Page_328">[Pg 328]</a></span> +comfort is deny'd me, deprive me not of the only consolation +left me of meditating on your virtues and dear memories, who +fell in defense of liberty and your country—ye brave men—ye +more than friends—ye martyrs to liberty!—This, this is all I +ask, till sorrow overwhelms me.—I breathe my last; and ye +yourselves, your own bright spirits, come and waft me to your +peaceful abode, where the voice of lamentation is not heard, +neither shall we know any more what it is to separate.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Eager the patriot meets his desperate foe</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>With full intent to give the fatal blow;</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>The cause he fights for animates him high,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>His wife, his children and his liberty:</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>For these he conquers, or more bravely dies,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>And yields himself a willing sacrifice.</i><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="stagedir">[<i>Exeunt.</i></p> + + + +<h2 class="gap3"><a name="ACT_IV" id="ACT_IV"></a>ACT IV.</h2> + + +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Scene</span> I. <i>Near Norfolk, in Virginia, on board a man-of-war, +<span class="smcap">Lord Kidnapper</span>, in the state-room; a boat appears rowing +towards the ship.</i></p> + +<p class="center"><i><span class="smcap">Sailor</span> and <span class="smcap"> Boatswain</span>.</i></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sailor.</span> Boatswain!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Boatswain.</span> Holla.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sailor.</span> Damn my eyes, Mr. Boatswain, but here's a black +flag of truce coming on board.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Boatswain.</span> Sure enough—where are they from?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sailor.</span> From hell, I suppose—for they're as black as so +many devils.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Boatswain.</span> Very well—no matter—they're recruits for the +Kidnapper.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sailor.</span> We shall be all of a colour by and by—damn me—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Boatswain.</span> I'll go and inform his Lordship and his pair of +doxies of it; I suppose by this time they have trim'd their sails, +and he's done heaving the log.</p> + +<p class="stagedir">[<i>Exit <span class="smcap">Boatswain</span>.</i></p> + + +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Scene</span> II. <i>Near the state-room.</i></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Boatswain.</span> Where's his Lordship?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Servant.</span> He's in the state-room.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Boatswain.</span> It's time for him to turn out; tell him I want to +speak to him.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Servant.</span> I dare not do it, Boatswain; it's more than my +life is worth.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_329" id="Page_329">[Pg 329]</a></span></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Boatswain.</span> Damn your squeamish stomach, go directly, or +I'll go myself.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Servant.</span> For God's sake! Boatswain—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Boatswain.</span> Damn your eyes, you pimping son of a bitch, +go this instant, or I'll stick my knife in your gammons.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Servant.</span> O Lord! Boatswain. [<i><span class="smcap">Servant</span> goes.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Boatswain</span> [<i>solus</i>]. What the devil—keep a pimp guard +here, better station the son of a bitch at the mast head, to keep +a look out there, lest Admiral Hopkins be upon us.</p> + +<p class="center"><i>Enter <span class="smcap">Kidnapper</span>.</i></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Kidnapper.</span> What's your will, Boatswain?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Boatswain.</span> I beg your Lordship's pardon [<i>Aside. But you +can soon fetch up Leeway, and spread the water sail again.</i>], please +your honour, here's a boat full of fine recruits along side for you.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Kidnapper.</span> Recruits, Boatswain? you mean soldiers from +Augustine, I imagine; what reg'mentals have they on?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Boatswain.</span> Mourning, please your honour, and as black as +our tarpawling.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Kidnapper.</span> Ha, ha, well well, take 'em on board, Boatswain, +I'll be on deck presently.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Boatswain.</span> With submission to your honour, d' ye see, +[<i>Scratching his head.</i>] I think we have gallows-looking dogs +enough on board already—the scrapings of Newgate, and the +refuse of Tyburn, and when the wind blows aft, damn 'em, they +stink like polecats—but d' ye see, as your honour pleases, with +submission, if it's Lord Paramount's orders, why it must be so, +I suppose—but I've done my duty, d' ye see—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Kidnapper.</span> Ha, ha, the work must be done, Boatswain, no +matter by whom.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Boatswain.</span> Why, aye, that's true, please your honour, any +port in a storm—if a man is to be hang'd, or have his throat cut, +d' ye see—who are so fit to do it as his own slaves? especially as +they're to have their freedoms for it; nobody can blame 'em, +nor your honour neither, for you get them for half price, or +nothing at all, d' ye see me, and that will help to lessen poor +Owld England's taxes, and when you have done with 'em here, +and they get their brains knock'd out, d' ye see, your honour can +sell them in the West-Indies, and that will be something in your +honour's pocket, d' ye see—well, ev'ry man to his trade—but, +damn my impudence for all, I see your honour knows all about +it—d' ye see.</p> + +<p class="stagedir">[<i>Exit <span class="smcap">Boatswain</span>.</i></p> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_330" id="Page_330">[Pg 330]</a></span></p> + + +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Scene</span> III. <i><span class="smcap">Lord Kidnapper</span> returns to his state-room; the +<span class="smcap">Boatswain</span> comes on deck and pipes.</i></p> + +<p>All hands ahoy—hand a rope, some of you Tories, forward +there, for his worship's reg'ment of black guards to come aboard.</p> + +<p class="center"><i>Enter <span class="smcap">Negroes</span>.</i></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Boatswain.</span> Your humble servant, Gentlemen, I suppose +you want to see Lord Kidnapper?—Clear the gangway there of +them Tyburn tulips. Please to walk aft, brother soldiers, that's +the fittest birth for you, the Kidnapper's in the state-room, he'll +hoist his sheet-anchor presently, he'll be up in a jiffin—as soon +as he has made fast the end of his small rope athwart Jenny +Bluegarter and Kate Common's stern posts.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">First Sailor.</span> Damn my eyes, but I suppose, messmate, we +must bundle out of our hammocks this cold weather, to make +room for these black regulars to stow in, tumble upon deck, and +choose a soft berth among the snow?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Second Sailor.</span> Blast 'em, if they come within a cable's length +of my hammock, I'll kick 'em to hell through one of the gun ports.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Boatswain.</span> Come, come, brothers, don't be angry, I suppose +we shall soon be in a warmer latitude—the Kidnapper seems as +fond of these black regulars (as you call 'em, Jack) as he is of the +brace of whores below; but as they come in so damn'd slow, I'll +put him in the humour of sending part of the fleet this winter to +the coast of Guinea, and beat up for volunteers, there he'll get +recruits enough for a hogshead or two of New-England rum, and +a few owld pipe-shanks, and save poor Owld-England the trouble +and expense of clothing them in the bargain.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">First Sailor.</span> Aye, <span class="smcap">Boatswain</span>, any voyage, so it's a warm +one—if it's to hell itself—for I'm sure the devil must be better +off than we, if we are to stay here this winter.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Second Sailor.</span> Any voyage, so it's to the southward, rather +than stay here at lazy anchor—no fire, nothing to eat or drink, +but suck our frosty fists like bears, unless we turn sheep-stealers +again, and get our brains knock'd out. Eigh, master cook, you're +a gentleman now—nothing to do—grown so proud, you won't +speak to poor folks, I suppose?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Cook.</span> The devil may cook for 'em for me—if I had any thing +to cook—a parcel of frozen half-starv'd dogs. I should never +be able to keep 'em out of the cook room, or their noses out of +the slush-tub.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_331" id="Page_331">[Pg 331]</a></span></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Boatswain.</span> Damn your old smoky jaws, you're better off +than any man aboard, your trouble will be nothing,—for I suppose +they'll be disbursted in different messes among the Tories, +and it's only putting on the big pot, cockey. Ha, ha, ha.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Cook.</span> What signifies, Mr. Boatswain, the big pot or the +little pot, if there's nothing to cook? no fire, coal or wood to cook +with? Blast my eyes, Mr. Boatswain, if I disgrease myself so +much, I have had the honour, damn me (tho' I say it that +shou'dn't say it) to be chief cook of a seventy-four gun ship, on +board of which was Lord Abel-Marl and Admiral Poke-Cock.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Boatswain.</span> Damn the liars—old singe-the-devil—you chief +cook of a seventy-four gun ship, eigh? you the devil, you're as +proud as hell, for all you look as old as Matheg'lum, hand a pair +of silk stockings for our cook here, d' ye see—lash a handspike +athwart his arse, get a ladle full of slush and a handful of brimstone +for his hair, and step one of you Tories there for the devil's +barber to come and shave and dress him. Ha, ha, ha.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Cook.</span> No, Mr. Boatswain, it's not pride—but look 'e (as I +said before), I'll not disgrease my station, I'll throw up my commission, +before I'll stand cook for a parcel of scape gallows, convict +Tory dogs and run-away Negroes.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Boatswain.</span> What's that you say? Take care, old frosty +face—What? do you accuse his worship of turning kidnapper, +and harbouring run-away Negroes?—Softly, or you'll be taken +up for a Whig, and get a handsome coat of slush and hog's feathers +for a christmas-box, cockey: Throw up your commission, eigh? +throw up the pot-halliards, you mean, old piss-to-windward? +Ha, ha, ha.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Cook.</span> I tell you, Mr. Boatswain—I—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Boatswain.</span> Come, come, give us a chaw of tobacco, Cook— +blast your eyes, don't take any pride in what I say—I'm only +joking, d' ye see——</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Cook.</span> Well, but Mr. Boatswain——</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Boatswain.</span> Come, avast, belay the lanyards of your jaws, +and let's have no more of it, d' ye see. [<i><span class="smcap">Boatswain</span> pipes.</i>] Make +fast that boat along side there.</p> + +<p class="stagedir">[<i>Exeunt ev'ry man to his station.</i></p> + + +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Scene</span> IV. <i><span class="smcap">Lord Kidnapper</span> comes up on the quarter-deck.</i></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Kidnapper.</span> Well, my brave blacks, are you come to list?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Cudjo.</span> Eas, massa Lord, you preazee.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Kidnapper.</span> How many are there of you?<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_332" id="Page_332">[Pg 332]</a></span></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Cudjo.</span> Twenty-two, massa.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Kidnapper.</span> Very well, did you all run away from your +masters?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Cudjo.</span> Eas, massa Lord, eb'ry one, me too.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Kidnapper.</span> That's clever; they have no right to make you +slaves, I wish all the Negroes wou'd do the same, I'll make 'em +free—what part did you come from?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Cudjo.</span> Disse brack man, disse one, disse one, disse one, disse +one, come from Hamton, disse one, disse one, disse one, come +from Nawfok, me come from Nawfok too.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Kidnapper.</span> Very well, what was your master's name?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Cudjo.</span> Me massa name Cunney Tomsee.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Kidnapper.</span> Colonel Thompson—eigh?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Cudjo.</span> Eas, massa, Cunney Tomsee.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Kidnapper.</span> Well then I'll make you a major—and what's +your name?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Cudjo.</span> Me massa cawra me Cudjo.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Kidnapper.</span> Cudjo?—very good—was you ever christened, +Cudjo?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Cudjo.</span> No massa, me no crissen.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Kidnapper.</span> Well, then I'll christen you—you shall be called +Major Cudjo Thompson, and if you behave well, I'll soon make +you a greater man than your master, and if I find the rest of you +behave well, I'll make you all officers, and after you have serv'd +Lord Paramount a while, you shall have money in your pockets, +good clothes on your backs, and be as free as them white men +there. [<i>Pointing forward to a parcel of Tories.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Cudjo.</span> Tankee, massa, gaw bresse, massa Kidnap.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sailor.</span> [<i>Aside.</i>] What a damn'd big mouth that Cudjo +has—as large as our main hatch-way——</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Cook.</span> [<i>Aside.</i>] Aye, he's come to a wrong place to make a +good use of it—it might stand some little chance at a Lord +Mayor's feast.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Kidnapper.</span> Now go forward, give 'em something to eat and +drink there. [<i>Aside.</i>] Poor devils, they look half starved and +naked like ourselves.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Cook.</span> [<i>Aside.</i>] I don't know where the devil they'll get it: +the sight of that fellow's mouth is enough to breed a famine on +board, if there was not one already.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sailor.</span> Aye, he'd tumble plenty down his damn'd guts and +swallow it, like Jones swallow'd the whale.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_333" id="Page_333">[Pg 333]</a></span></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Kidnapper.</span> To-morrow you shall have guns like them white +men—Can you shoot some of them rebels ashore, Major Cudjo?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Cudjo.</span> Eas, massa, me try.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Kidnapper.</span> Wou'd you shoot your old master, the Colonel, +if you could see him?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Cudjo.</span> Eas, massa, you terra me, me shoot him down dead.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Kidnapper.</span> That's a brave fellow—damn 'em—down with +them all—shoot all the damn'd rebels.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Serjeant.</span> [<i>Aside.</i>] Brave fellows indeed!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Kidnapper.</span> Serjeant!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Serjeant.</span> I wait your Lordship's commands.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Kidnapper.</span> Serjeant, to-morrow begin to teach those black +recruits the exercise, and when they have learn'd sufficiently +well to load and fire, then incorporate them among the regulars +and the other Whites on board; we shall in a few days have some +work for 'em, I expect—be as expeditious as possible. [<i>Aside to +him.</i>] Set a guard over them every night, and take their arms +from them, for who knows but they may cut our throats.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Serjeant.</span> Very true, My Lord, I shall take particular care.</p> + +<p class="stagedir">[<i>Exit <span class="smcap">Kidnapper</span>; <span class="smcap">Serjeant</span> +and <span class="smcap">Negroes</span> walk forward.</i></p> + + +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Scene</span> V.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Serjeant.</span> Damn 'em, I'd rather see half their weight in beef.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Boatswain.</span> Aye, curse their stomachs, or mutton either; then +our Cook wou'dn't be so damn'd lazy as he is, strutting about +the deck like a nobleman, receiving Paramount's pay for nothing.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Serjeant.</span> Walk faster, damn your black heads. I suppose, +Boatswain, when this hell-cat reg'ment's complete, they'll be +reviewed in Hyde park?——</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Boatswain.</span> Aye, blast my eyes, and our Chaplain with his +dirty black gown, or our Cook, shall be their general, and review +'em, for he talks of throwing up his pot-halliards commission, in +hopes of it.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Serjeant.</span> Ha, ha, ha.——</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Cook.</span> I'd see the devil have 'em first.——</p> + +<p class="stagedir">[<i>Exeunt <span class="smcap">Serjeant</span>, &c.</i></p> + + +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Scene</span> VI. <i>In the cabin.</i></p> + +<p class="center"><i><span class="smcap">Lord Kidnapper</span>, <span class="smcap">Captain Squires</span>, and <span class="smcap">Chaplain</span>.</i></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Kidnapper.</span> These blacks are no small acquisition, them and +the Tories we have on board will strengthen us vastly; the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_334" id="Page_334">[Pg 334]</a></span> +thoughts of emancipation will make 'em brave, and the encouragement +given them by my proclamation, will greatly intimidate +the rebels—internal enemies are worse than open foes.——</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chaplain.</span> Very true, My Lord; David prayed that he might +be preserved from secret enemies.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Kidnapper.</span> Aye, so I've heard, but I look upon this to be a +grand manœuvre in politics; this is making dog eat dog—thief +catch thief—the servant against his master—rebel against rebel—what +think you of that, parson?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chaplain.</span> A house divided thus against itself cannot stand, +according to scripture—My Lord, your observation is truly +scriptural.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Kidnapper.</span> Scripture? poh, poh—I've nothing to do with +scripture—I mean politically, parson.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chaplain.</span> I know it very well; sure, My Lord, I understand +you perfectly.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Kidnapper.</span> Faith that's all I care for; if we can stand our +ground this winter, and burn all their towns that are accessible +to our ships, and Colonel Connolly succeeds in his plan, there's +not the least doubt but we shall have supplies from England very +early in the spring, which I have wrote for; then, in conjunction +with Connolly, we shall be able to make a descent where we +please, and drive the rebels like hogs into a pen.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chaplain.</span> And then gather them (as the scriptures say) as +a hen gathereth her chickens.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Kidnapper.</span> True, Mr. Scripture.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Captain Squires.</span> Very good, but you must take care of the +hawks.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Kidnapper.</span> What do you mean by the hawks, Captain?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Captain Squires.</span> I mean the shirt-men, the rifle-men, My Lord.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Kidnapper.</span> Aye, damn 'em, hawks indeed; they are cursed +dogs; a man is never safe where they are, but I'll take care to be +out of their reach, let others take their chance, for I see they +have no respect to persons—I suppose they wou'd shoot at me, +if I were within their reach.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chaplain.</span> Undoubtedly, they would be more fond of you +than of a wild turkey; a parcel of ignorant, unmannerly rascals, +they pay no more respect to a Lord than they wou'd to a devil.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Kidnapper.</span> The scoundrels are grown so damn'd impudent +too, that one can scarcely get a roasting pig now-a-days, but I'll +be even with some of 'em by and by.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_335" id="Page_335">[Pg 335]</a></span></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chaplain.</span> I hope we shall get something good for our Christmas +dinner—so much abstinence and involuntary mortification, +cannot be good for the soul—a war in the body corporal is of +more dangerous consequence than a civil war to the state, or +heresy and schism to the church.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Kidnapper.</span> Very true, parson—very true—now I like your +doctrine—a full belly is better than an empty sermon; preach +that doctrine;—stick to that text, and you'll not fail of making +converts.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chaplain.</span> The wisest of men said, there is nothing better, +than that a man should enjoy that which he hath, namely, eat, +drink, and be merry, if he can.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Kidnapper.</span> You're very right—Solomon was no fool, they +say—[<i>He sings.</i>]</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Give me a charming lass, Twangdillo cries,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>I know no pleasure, but love's sweet joys.</i><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chaplain.</span> [<i>Sings.</i>]</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Give me the bottle, says the red face sot,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>For a whore I'd not give six-pence, not a groat.</i><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Yet two is better than one, my Lord, for the scriptures further +say, if one be alone, how can there be heat? You seem to be +converted to that belief, for you have a brace of them, as the +Boatswain says.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Kidnapper.</span> Ha, ha. It's a pity but you were a bishop, you +have the scriptures so pat—now I'll go and take a short nap, +meanwhile; Captain, if any thing new happens, pray order my +servant to wake me.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Captain Squires.</span> I will, my Lord.</p> + +<p class="stagedir">[<i>Exit <span class="smcap">Kidnapper</span>.</i></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chaplain.</span> And you and I'll crack a bottle, Captain; (bring +a bottle, boy!) 'tis bad enough to perish by famine, but ten +thousand times worse to be chok'd for want of moisture. His +Lordship and two more make three; and you and I and the +bottle make three more, and a three-fold cord is not easily broken; +so we're even with him.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Captain Squires.</span> With all my heart.—Boy, bear a hand!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Tom.</span> Coming, sir.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chaplain.</span> Tom, Tom!—make haste, you scoundrel!—fetch +two bottles. I think we can manage it.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_336" id="Page_336">[Pg 336]</a></span></p> + +<p class="center"><i>Enter <span class="smcap">Tom</span> with the bottles.</i></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chaplain.</span> That's right, Tom.—Now bring the glasses, and +shut the door after you.</p> + +<p class="stagedir">[<i>Exit <span class="smcap">Tom</span>.</i></p> + + +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Scene</span> VII. <i>In Boston. A council of war after +the battle of Bunker's-Hill.</i></p> + +<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Lord Boston</span>, <span class="smcap">Admiral Tombstone</span>, <span class="smcap">Elbow Room</span>, +<span class="smcap">Mr. Caper</span>, <span class="smcap">General Clinton</span>, <span class="smcap">Earl Percy.</span></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lord Boston.</span> I fully expected, with the help of the last +reinforcement you brought me over, and the advice and assistance +of three accomplish'd and experienc'd Generals, I should have +been able to have subdued the rebels, and gain'd immortal laurels +to myself—have return'd to Old England like a Roman Consul, +with a score or two of the rebel Generals, Colonels and Majors, +to have grac'd my triumph.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Elbow Room.</span> You have been vastly disappointed, sir—you +must not look for laurels (unless wild ones) nor expect triumphs +(unless sham ones) from your own victories or conquests in +America.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lord Boston.</span> And yet, not more disappointed than you, sir—witness +your thrasonical speeches on your first landing, provided +you had but elbow room—and Mr. Caper too, to bring over +Monsieur Rigadoon, the dancing-master, and Signor Rosin, +the fiddler forsooth; he thought, no doubt, to have country +danc'd the rebels out of their liberty with some of his new cuts—with +his soft music to have fascinated their wives and daughters, +and with some of 'em, no doubt, to have taken the tour of +America, with his reg'ment of fine, sleek, prancing horses, that +have been feeding this six months on codfish tails; he thought +to have grown fat with feasting, dancing, and drinking tea with +the Ladies, instead of being the skeleton he now appears to be—not +to mention any thing of his letter, wherein he laments Tom's +absence; for<a name="FNanchor_9_9" id="FNanchor_9_9"></a><a href="#Footnote_9_9" class="fnanchor">[9]</a> "had Tom been with him (he says) he wou'd have +been out of danger, and quite secure from the enemy's shot."</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Percy.</span> I think, Gentlemen, we're even with you now; you +have had your mirth and frolic with us, for dancing "Yankee +Doodle," as you called it, from Lexington.—I find you have +had a severer dance, a brave sweat at Bunker's Hill, and have +been obliged to pay the fiddler in the bargain.</p> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_337" id="Page_337">[Pg 337]</a></span></p> +<p><span class="smcap">Clinton.</span> However, Gentlemen, I approve (at proper seasons) +of a little joking, yet I can by no means think (as we have had +such bad success with our crackers) that this is a proper time to +throw your squibs.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lord Boston.</span> I grant you, sir, this is a very improper time +for joking; for my part, I was only speaking as to my own +thoughts, when Mr. Elbow Room made remarks, which he might +as well have spared.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Elbow Room.</span> I took you, sir, as meaning a reflection upon +us for our late great loss, and particularly to myself, for expressing +some surprise on our first landing, that you should suffer a parcel +of ignorant peasants to drive you before 'em like sheep from +Lexington; and I must own I was a little chagrin'd at your seeming +so unconcern'd at such an affair as this (which had nearly +prov'd our ruin), by your innuendoes and ironical talk of accomplish'd +Generals, Roman Consuls and triumphs.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lord Boston.</span> My mentioning accomplish'd Generals, surely, +sir, was rather a compliment to you.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Elbow Room.</span> When irony pass current for compliments, +and we take it so, I shall have no objection to it.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mr. Caper.</span> The affair of Lexington, My Lord Boston, at +which you were so much affrighted (if I am rightly inform'd), +was because you then stood on your own bottom, this of Bunker's +Hill you seem secretly to rejoice at, only because you have three +accomplish'd and experienc'd Generals to share the disgrace with +you, besides the brave Admiral Tombstone—you talk of dancing +and fiddling, and yet you do neither, as I see.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lord Boston.</span> And pray, sir, what did you do with the commission, +the post, the Duke of Grafton gave you, in lieu of your +losses at Preston election, and the expenses of your trial at the +king's bench for a riot, which had emptied your pockets?—Why +you sold it—you sold it, sir—to raise cash to gamble with.——</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Admiral Tombstone.</span> Damn it, don't let us kick up a dust +among ourselves, to be laugh'd at fore and aft—this is a hell of +a council of war—though I believe it will turn out one before +we've done—a scolding and quarrelling like a parcel of damn'd +butter whores—I never heard two whores yet scold and quarrel, +but they got to fighting at last.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Clinton.</span> Pray, Gentlemen, drop this discourse, consider the +honour of England is at stake, and our own safety depends upon +this day's consultation.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_338" id="Page_338">[Pg 338]</a></span></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lord Boston.</span> 'Tis not for argument's sake—but the dignity +of my station requires others should give up first.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Elbow Room.</span> Sir, I have done, lest you should also accuse +me of obstructing the proceedings of the council of war.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mr. Caper.</span> For the same reason I drop it now.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lord Boston.</span> Well, Gentlemen, what are we met here for?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Admiral Tombstone.</span> Who the devil shou'd know, if you +don't?—damn it, didn't you send for us?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lord Boston.</span> Our late great loss of men has tore up the +foundation of our plan, and render'd all further attempts impracticable—'t +will be a long time ere we can expect any more reinforcements—and +if they should arrive, I'm doubtful of their +success.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Clinton.</span> The provincials are vastly strong, and seem no +novices in the art of war; 'tis true we gain'd the hill at last, +but of what advantage is it to us?—none—the loss of 1400 as +brave men as Britain can boast of, is a melancholy consideration, +and must make our most sanguinary friends in England abate +of their vigour.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Elbow Room.</span> I never saw or read of any battle equal to it—never +was more martial courage display'd, and the provincials, +to do the dogs justice, fought like heroes, fought indeed more like +devils than men; such carnage and destruction not exceeded by +Blenheim, Minden, Fontenoy, Ramillies, Dettingen, the battle +of the Boyne, and the late affair of the Spaniards and Algerines—a +mere cock-fight to it—no laurels there.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mr. Caper.</span> No, nor triumphs neither—I regret in particular +the number of brave officers that fell that day, many of whom +were of the first families in England.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Admiral Tombstone.</span> Aye, a damn'd affair indeed—many +powder'd beaus—petit maitres—fops—fribbles—skip jacks—macaronies—jack +puddings—noblemen's bastards and whores' +sons fell that day—and my poor marines stood no more chance +with 'em than a cat in hell without claws.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lord Boston.</span> It can't be help'd, Admiral; what is to be done +next?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Admiral Tombstone.</span> Done?—why, what the devil have you +done? nothing yet, but eat Paramount's beef, and steal a few +Yankee sheep—and that, it seems, is now become a damn'd +lousy, beggarly trade too, for you hav'n't left yourselves a mouthful +to eat.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_339" id="Page_339">[Pg 339]</a></span></p> + +<p class="lfloat">[<i>Aside.</i>]</p> + +<div class="poem" style="margin-left:30%"><div class="stanza" style="margin-left:0em;"> +<span class="i0">"<i>Bold at the council board,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>But cautious in the field, he shunn'd the sword.</i>"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lord Boston.</span> But what can we do, Admiral?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Admiral Tombstone.</span> Do?—why, suck your paws—that's all +you're like to get. [<i>Aside.</i>] But avast, I must bowse taught +there, or we shall get to loggerheads soon, we're such damn'd +fighting fellows.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lord Boston.</span> We must act on the defensive this winter, till +reinforcements arrive.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Admiral Tombstone.</span> Defensive? aye, aye—if we can defend +our bellies from hunger, and prevent a mutiny and civil war +among the small guts there this winter, we shall make a glorious +campaign of it, indeed—it will read well in the American Chronicles.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lord Boston.</span> I expect to be recalled this winter, when I shall +lay the case before Lord Paramount, and let him know your +deplorable situation.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Admiral Tombstone.</span> Aye, do—and lay it behind him too; +you've got the weather-gage of us this tack, messmate; but I +wish you a good voyage for all—and don't forget to tell him, the +poor worms are starving too, having nothing to eat, but half +starv'd dead soldiers and the ships' bottoms. [<i>Aside.</i>] A cunning +old fox, he's gnaw'd his way handsomely out of the Boston +cage—but he'll never be a <i>wolf</i>, for all that.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mr. Caper.</span> I shall desire to be recalled too—I've not been +us'd to such fare—and not the least diversion or entertainment +of any sort going forward here—I neither can nor will put up +with it.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Admiral Tombstone.</span> I think we're all a parcel of damn'd +boobies for coming three thousand miles upon a wild-goose chase—to +perish with cold—starve with hunger—get our brains +knock'd out, or be hang'd for sheep-stealing and robbing hen-roosts.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lord Boston.</span> I think, Admiral, you're always grumbling—never +satisfied.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Admiral Tombstone.</span> Satisfied? I see no appearance of it—we +have been here these twelve hours, scolding upon empty +stomachs—you may call it a council of war (and so it is indeed, +a war with the guts) or what you will—but I call it a council of +famine.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_340" id="Page_340">[Pg 340]</a></span></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lord Boston.</span> As it's so late, Gentlemen, we'll adjourn the +council of war till to-morrow at nine o'clock—I hope you'll all +attend, and come to a conclusion.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Admiral Tombstone.</span> And I hope you'll then conclude to +favour us with one of them fine turkeys you're keeping for your +sea store [<i>Aside.</i>] or that fine, fat, black pig you or some of your +guard stole out of the poor Negroe's pen. As it's near Christmas, +and you're going to make your exit—you know the old custom +among the sailors—pave your way first—let us have one good +dinner before we part, and leave us half a dozen pipes of Mr. +Hancock's wine to drink your health, and a good voyage, and +don't let us part with dry lips.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Such foolish councils, with no wisdom fraught,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Must end in wordy words, and come to nought;</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Just like St. James's, where they bluster, scold,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>They nothing know—yet they despise being told.</i><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="stagedir">[<i>Exeunt.</i></p> + +<div class="footnotes"><h3>FOOTNOTES:</h3> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_9_9" id="Footnote_9_9"></a><a href="#FNanchor_9_9"><span class="label">[9]</span></a> See Burgoyne's letter.</p></div> +</div> + + +<h2 class="gap3"><a name="ACT_V" id="ACT_V"></a>ACT V.</h2> + + +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Scene</span> I. <i>At Montreal.</i></p> + +<p class="center"><i><span class="smcap">General Prescot</span> and <span class="smcap">Officer</span>.</i></p> + +<p class="center"><span class="smcap">General Prescot.</span></p> + +<p>So it seems indeed, one misfortune seldom comes alone.—The +rebels, after the taking of Ticonderoga and Chamblee, +as I just now learn by a Savage, marched immediately to besiege +St. John's, and are now before that place, closely investing it, and +no doubt intend paying us a visit soon.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Officer.</span> Say you so? then 'tis time to look about us.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gen. Prescot.</span> They'll find us prepar'd, I'll warrant 'em, +to give 'em such a reception as they little dream of—a parcel of +Yankee dogs.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Officer.</span> Their success, no doubt, has elated them, and +given 'em hopes of conquering all Canada soon, if that's their +intent.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gen. Prescot.</span> No doubt it is—but I'll check their career +a little.—<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_341" id="Page_341">[Pg 341]</a></span>—</p> + +<p class="center"><i>Enter <span class="smcap">Scouting Officer</span>, with <span class="smcap">Colonel Allen</span>, +and other prisoners.</i></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Scouting Officer.</span> Sir, I make bold to present you with a +few prisoners—they are a scouting detachment from the army +besieging St. John's.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gen. Prescot.</span> Prisoners? Rebels, I suppose, and scarcely +worth hanging.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Col. Allen.</span> Sir, you suppose wrong—you mean scarcely +worth your while to attempt.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gen. Prescot.</span> Pray, who are you, sir?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Col. Allen.</span> A man, sir, and who had the honour, till now, +to command those brave men, whom you call rebels.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gen. Prescot.</span> What is your name? If I may be so bold?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Col. Allen.</span> Allen.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gen. Prescot.</span> Allen?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Col. Allen.</span> Yes, Allen.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gen. Prescot.</span> Are you that Allen, that Colonel Allen (as +they call him) that dar'd to take Ticonderoga?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Col. Allen.</span> The same—the very man.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gen. Prescot.</span> Then rebels you are, and as such I shall treat +you, for daring to oppose Lord Paramount's troops, and the laws +of the land.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Col. Allen.</span> Prisoners we are, 'tis true—but we despise the +name of a rebel—With more propriety that name is applicable +to your master—'tis he who attempts to destroy the laws of the +land, not us—we mean to support them, and defend our property +against Paramount's and parliamentary tyranny.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gen. Prescot.</span> To answer you were a poorness of spirit I +despise; when rebels dare accuse, power that replies, forgets +to punish; I am not to argue that point with you: And let me +tell you, sir, whoever you are, it now ill becomes you thus to talk—You're +my prisoner—your life is in my hands, and you shall +suffer immediately—Guards! take them away.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Col. Allen.</span> Cruel insult!—pardon these brave men!—what +they have done has been by my orders—I am the only guilty +person (if guilt there be), let me alone suffer for them all. [<i>Opening +his breast.</i>] Here! take your revenge—Why do you hesitate?—Will +you not strike a breast that ne'er will flinch from +your pointed bayonet?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gen. Prescot.</span> Provoke me not—Remember you're my +prisoners.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_342" id="Page_342">[Pg 342]</a></span></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Col. Allen.</span> Our souls are free!—Strike, cowards, strike!—I +scorn to beg my life.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gen. Prescot.</span> Guards! away with them—I'll reserve you +for a more ignominious death—your fate is fix'd—away with +them.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Col. Allen.</span> [<i>Going off.</i>] Be glutted, ye thirsters after human +blood—Come, see me suffer—mark my eye, and scorn me, if my +expiring soul confesses fear—Come, see and be taught virtue, +and to die as a patriot for the wrongs of my country.</p> + +<p class="stagedir">[<i>Exeunt <span class="smcap">Prisoners</span> and <span class="smcap">Guards</span>.</i></p> + + +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Scene</span> II. <i>A Dungeon.</i></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Col. Allen.</span> What! ye infernal monsters! murder us in the +dark?—What place is this?—Who reigns king of these gloomy +mansions?—You might favour us at least with one spark of light—Ye +cannot see to do your business here.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Officer.</span> 'Tis our orders.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Col. Allen.</span> Ye dear, ye brave, wretched friends!—now +would I die for ye all—ye share a death I wou'd gladly excuse +you from—'Tis not death I fear—this is only bodily death—but +to die noteless in the silent dark, is to die scorn'd, and shame our +suff'ring country—we fall undignify'd by villains' hands—a +sacrifice to Britain's outcast blood-hounds—This, this shakes the +soul!—Come then, ye murderers, since it must be so—do your +business speedily—Farewell, my friends! to die with you is now +my noblest claim since to die for you was a choice deny'd—What +are ye about?—Stand off, ye wretches!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Officer.</span> I am order'd to lay you in irons. [<i>They seize him.</i>] +You must submit.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Col. Allen.</span> What, do you mean to torture us to death with +chains, racks and gibbets? rather despatch us immediately—Ye +executioners, ye inquisitors, does this cruelty proceed from the +lenity I shewed to the prisoners I took?—Did it offend you that I +treated them with friendship, generosity, honour and humanity?—If +it did, our suff'rings will redound more to our honour, and +our fall be the more glorious—But remember, this fall will prove +your own one day—Wretches! I fear you not, do your worst; and +while I here lay suff'ring and chain'd on my back to the damp +floor, I'll yet pray for your conversion.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_343" id="Page_343">[Pg 343]</a></span></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Officer.</span> Excuse us, we have only obey'd our order.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Col. Allen.</span> Then I forgive you; but pray execute them.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Oh! my lost friends! 'tis liberty, not breath,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Gives the brave life. Shun slav'ry more than death.</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>He who spurns fear, and dares disdain to be,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Mocks chains and wrongs—and is forever free;</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>While the base coward, never safe, tho' low,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Creeps but to suff'rings, and lives on for woe!</i><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="stagedir">[<i>Exeunt <span class="smcap">Guards</span>.</i></p> + + +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Scene</span> III. <i>In the Camp at Cambridge.</i></p> + +<p class="center"><i><span class="smcap">General Washington</span>, <span class="smcap">General Lee</span>, and <span class="smcap">General Putnam</span>.</i></p> + +<p class="center"><span class="smcap">General Washington.</span></p> + +<p>Our accounts from the Northward, so far, are very favourable; +Ticonderoga, Chamblee, St. John's and Montreal our troops are +already in possession of—and Colonel Arnold, having penetrated +Canada, after suff'ring much thro' cold, fatigue and want of provisions, +is now before Quebec, and General Montgomery, I understand, +is in full march to join him; see these letters.</p> + +<p class="stagedir">[<i>They read.</i></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gen. Lee.</span> The brave, the intrepid Arnold, with his handful +of fearless troops, have dar'd beyond the strength of mortals—Their +courage smil'd at doubts, and resolutely march'd on, +clamb'ring (to all but themselves) insurmountable precipices, +whose tops, covered with ice and snow, lay hid in the clouds, +and dragging baggage, provisions, ammunition and artillery +along with them, by main strength, in the dead of winter, over +such stupendous and amazing heights, seems almost unparallelled +in history!—'Tis true, Hannibal's march over the Alps +comes the nearest to it—it was a surprising undertaking, but +when compar'd to this, appears but as a party of pleasure, an +agreeable walk, a sabbath day's journey.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gen. Putnam.</span> Posterity will stand amazed, and be astonish'd +at the heroes of this new world, that the spirit of patriotism +should blaze to such a height, and eclipse all others, should outbrave +fatigue, danger, pain, peril, famine and even death itself, +to serve their country; that they should march, at this inclement +season, thro' long and dreary deserts, thro' the remotest wilds, +covered with swamps and standing lakes, beset with trees, bushes +and briars, impervious to the cheering rays of the sun, where are<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_344" id="Page_344">[Pg 344]</a></span> +no traces or vestiges of human footsteps, wild, untrodden paths, +that strike terror into the fiercest of the brute creation.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>No bird of song to cheer the gloomy desert!</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>No animals of gentle love's enliven!</i><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gen. Lee.</span> Let Britons do the like—no—they dare not +attempt it—let 'em call forth the Hanoverian, the Hessian, the +hardy Ruffian, or, if they will, the wild Cossacks and Kalmucks +of Tartary, and they would tremble at the thought! And who +but Americans dare undertake it? The wond'ring moon and +stars stood aloof, and turn'd pale at the sight!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gen. Washington.</span> I rejoice to hear the Canadians received +them kindly, after their fatigue furnish'd them with the necessaries +of life, and otherways treated them very humanely—And +the savages, whose hair stood on end, and look'd and listen'd +with horror and astonishment at the relation of the fatigues and +perils they underwent, commiserated them, and afforded all +the succour in their power.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gen. Lee.</span> The friendship of the Canadians and Savages, or +even their neutrality alone, are favourable circumstances that +cannot fail to hearten our men; and the junction of General +Montgomery will inspire 'em with fresh ardour.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gen. Putnam.</span> Heavens prosper 'em!</p> + +<p class="center"><i>Enter <span class="smcap">Officer</span> and <span class="smcap">Express</span>.</i></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Officer.</span> Sir, here's an Express.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Express.</span> I have letters to your Excellency.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gen. Washington.</span> From whence?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Express.</span> From Canada, sir.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gen. Washington.</span> From the army?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Express.</span> From the headquarters, sir.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gen. Washington.</span> I hope matters go well there.—Had +General Montgomery join'd Colonel Arnold when you left it?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Express.</span> He had, sir—these letters are from both those +gentlemen.</p> + +<p class="stagedir">[<i>Gives him the letters.</i></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gen. Washington.</span> Very well. You may now withdraw and +refresh yourself, unless you've further to say—I'll dispatch you +shortly.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Express.</span> Nothing further, sir.</p> + +<p class="stagedir">[<i>Exeunt <span class="smcap">Officer</span> and <span class="smcap">Express</span>.</i></p> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_345" id="Page_345">[Pg 345]</a></span></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gen. Washington.</span> [<i>Opens and reads the letter to <span class="smcap">Generals +Lee</span> and <span class="smcap">Putnam</span>.</i>] I am well pleased with their contents—all but +the behaviour of the haughty Carleton—to fire upon a flag of +truce, hitherto unprecedented, even amongst Savages or Algerines—his +cruelty to the prisoners is cowardly, and personal ill +treatment of General Montgomery is unbecoming a General—a +soldier—and beneath a Gentleman—and leaves an indelible mark +of brutality—I hope General Montgomery, however, will not +follow his example.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gen. Lee.</span> I hope so too, sir—if it can be avoided; it's a +disgrace to the soldier, and a scandal to the Gentleman—so long +as I've been a soldier, my experience has not furnish'd me with a +like instance.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gen. Putnam.</span> I see no reason why he shou'dn't be paid +in his own coin.—If a man bruises my heel, I'll break his +head—I cannot see the reason or propriety of bearing with +their insults—does he not know it's in our power to retaliate +fourfold?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gen. Lee.</span> Let's be good natur'd, General—let us see a little +more of it first——</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gen. Putnam.</span> I think we have seen enough of it already for +this twelve-months past. Methinks the behaviour of Lord +Boston, the ill treatment of poor Allen, to be thrown into a +loathsome dungeon like a murderer, be loaded with irons, and +transported like a convict, would sufficiently rouse us to a just +retaliation—that imperious red coat, Carleton, should be taught +good manners—I hope to see him ere long in our College at +Cambridge——</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gen. Lee.</span> I doubt; he'll be too cunning, and play truant—he +has no notion of learning American manners; ev'ry dog +must have his day (as the saying is); it may be our time by and +by—the event of war is uncertain——</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gen. Putnam.</span> Very true, sir; but don't let us be laugh'd at +forever.</p> + +<p class="center"><i>Enter an <span class="smcap">Officer</span> in haste.</i></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Officer.</span> Sir, a messenger this moment from Quebec waits +to be admitted.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gen. Washington.</span> Let him enter.</p> + +<p class="stagedir">[<i>Exit <span class="smcap">Officer</span>.</i></p> + +<p class="center"><i>Enter <span class="smcap">Messenger</span>.</i></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gen. Washington.</span> What news bring you?<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_346" id="Page_346">[Pg 346]</a></span></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Messenger.</span> I am sorry, sir, to be the bearer of an unpleasing +tale——</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gen. Washington.</span> Bad news have you?—have you letters?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Messenger.</span> None, sir—I came off at a moment's warning—my +message is verbal.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gen. Washington.</span> Then relate what you know.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Messenger.</span> After the arrival and junction of General Montgomery's +troops with Colonel Arnold's, Carleton was summoned +to surrender; he disdaining any answer, fir'd on the flag of +truce——</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gen. Washington.</span> That we have heard—go on.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Messenger.</span> The General finding no breach could be effected +in any reasonable time, their walls being vastly strong, and his +cannon rather light, determined to attempt it by storm—The +enemy were apprized of it—however, he passed the first barrier, +and was attempting the second, where he was unfortunately +killed, with several other brave officers——</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gen. Washington.</span> Is General Montgomery killed?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Messenger.</span> He is certainly, sir.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gen. Washington.</span> I am sorry for it—a brave man—I could +wish him a better fate!——</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gen. Lee.</span> I lament the loss of him—a resolute soldier——</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gen. Putnam.</span> Pity such bravery should prove unsuccessful, +such merit unrewarded;—but the irreversible decree of Providence!—who +can gainsay?—we may lament the loss of a +friend, but 'tis irreligious to murmur at pre-ordination. What +happ'ned afterwards?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Messenger.</span> The officer next in command, finding their +attacks at that time unsuccessful, retired in good order.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gen. Washington.</span> What became of Colonel Arnold?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Messenger.</span> Colonel Arnold, at the head of about three hundred +and fifty brave troops, and Captain Lamb's company of +artillery, having in the mean time passed through St. Rocques, +attacked a battery, and carried it, tho' well defended, with the +loss of some men—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gen. Putnam.</span> I hope they proved more successful.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gen. Lee.</span> Aye, let us hear.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Messenger.</span> The Colonel about this time received a wound in +his leg, and was obliged to crawl as well as he cou'd to the hospital, +thro' the fire of the enemy, and within fifty yards of the walls, +but, thro' Providence, escap'd any further damage.—<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_347" id="Page_347">[Pg 347]</a></span>—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gen. Putnam.</span> Aye, providential indeed!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gen. Washington.</span> Is he dangerously wounded?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Messenger.</span> I am told not, sir.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gen. Washington.</span> I am glad of it.—What follow'd?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Messenger.</span> His brave troops pushed on to the second barrier, +and took possession of it.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gen. Washington.</span> Very good—proceed.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Messenger.</span> A party of the enemy then sallying out from the +palace-gate, attacked them in the rear, whom they fought with +incredible bravery for three hours, and deeds of eternal fame +were done; but being surrounded on all sides, and overpowered +by numbers, were at last obliged to submit themselves as prisoners +of war.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gen. Putnam.</span> Heav'ns! could any thing prove more unlucky? +such brave fellows deserve better treatment than they'll get (I'm +afraid) from the inhuman Carleton.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gen. Lee.</span> Such is the fortune of war, and the vicissitudes +attending a military life; to-day conquerors, to-morrow prisoners.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gen. Washington.</span> He dares not treat them ill—only as +prisoners. Did you learn how those brave fellows were treated?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Messenger.</span> It was currently reported in the camp they +were treated very humanely.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gen. Washington.</span> A change for the better.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gen. Putnam.</span> Produc'd by fear, no doubt from General +Montgomery's letter—but no matter from what cause.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gen. Lee.</span> How far did the remainder of the army retire?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Messenger.</span> About two miles from the city, where they are +posted very advantageously, continuing the blockade, and waiting +for reinforcements.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gen. Lee.</span> Did the enemy shew any peculiar marks of distinction +to the corpse of General Montgomery?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Messenger.</span> He was interred in Quebec, with ev'ry possible +mark of distinction.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gen. Washington.</span> What day did the affair happen on?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Messenger.</span> On the last day of the year.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gen. Washington.</span> A remarkable day! When was the General +interred?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Messenger.</span> The second of January.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gen. Lee.</span> What number of men in the whole attack was +killed? did you learn?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Messenger.</span> About sixty killed and wounded.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_348" id="Page_348">[Pg 348]</a></span></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gen. Washington.</span> Have you any thing further to communicate?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Messenger.</span> Nothing, sir, but to inform you they are all in +good spirits, and desire reinforcements, and heavy artillery may +be sent them as soon as possible.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gen. Washington.</span> That be our business—with all despatch. +You may for the present withdraw. Serjeant!</p> + +<p class="center"><i>Enter <span class="smcap">Serjeant</span>.</i></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Serjeant.</span> I wait your order, sir.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gen. Washington.</span> See that the Messenger and his horse +want for nothing.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Serjeant.</span> I shall, sir.</p> + +<p class="stagedir">[<i>Exeunt <span class="smcap">Serjeant</span> and <span class="smcap">Messenger</span>.</i></p> + + +<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Scene</span> IV.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gen. Washington.</span> I'll despatch an Express to the Congress. +This repulse, if I mistake not (or victory, as Carleton may call +it), will stand 'em but in little stead—'t will be only a temporary +reprieve—we'll reinforce our friends, let the consequence be +what it may—Quebec must fall, and the lofty strong walls and +brazen gates (the shield of cowards) must tumble by an artificial +earthquake; should they continue in their obstinacy, we'll +arm our friends with missive thunders in their hands, and stream +death on them swifter than the winds.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gen. Lee.</span> I lament the loss of the valiant Montgomery and +his brave officers and soldiers (at this time more especially) 'tis +the fortune of war, 'tis unavoidable; yet, I doubt not, out of their +ashes will arise new heroes.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gen. Putnam.</span> Who can die a more glorious, a more honourable +death than in their country's cause?—let it redouble our +ardour, and kindle a noble emulation in our breasts—let each +American be determined to conquer or die in a righteous cause.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gen. Washington.</span> I have drawn my sword, and never will +I sheathe it, till America is free, or I'm no more.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gen. Lee.</span> Peace is despaired of, and who can think of submission? +The last petition from the Congress, like the former, +has been disregarded; they prayed but for liberty, peace and +safety, and their omnipotent authoritative supreme-ships will +grant them neither: War, then, war open and understood, must +be resolved on; this, this will humble their pride, will bring their<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_349" id="Page_349">[Pg 349]</a></span> +tyrant noses to the ground, teach 'em humility, and force them to +hearken to reason when 'tis too late. My noble General, I join +you. [<i>Drawing his sword.</i>] I'll away with the scabbard, and +sheathe my sword in the bosom of tyranny.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gen. Putnam.</span> Have you not read the speech, where frowning +revenge and sounds of awful dread for disgrace at Lexington and +loss at Bunker's Hill echo forth? Not smiling peace, or pity, +tame his sullen soul; but, Pharaoh-like, on the wings of tyranny +he rides and forfeits happiness to feast revenge, till the waters +of the red sea of blood deluge the tyrant, with his mixed host of +vile cut-throats, murderers, and bloody butchers.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gen. Washington.</span> Yet, finding they cannot conquer us, +gladly would they make it up by a voluntary free-will offering +of a million of money in bribes, rather than be obliged to relish +the thoughts of sacrificing their cursed pride and false honour, +they sending over to amuse us (to put us off our guard) a score +or two of commissioners with sham negotiations in great state, +to endeavour to effect, by bribery, deception and chicanery, +what they cannot accomplish by force. Perish such wretches!—detested +be their schemes!—Perish such monsters!—a reproach +to human understanding—their vaunted boasts and threats +will vanish like smoke, and be no more than like snow falling +on the moist ground, melt in silence, and waste away—Blasted, +forever blasted be the hand of the villainous traitor that receives +their gold upon such terms—may he become leprous, like Naaman, +the Syrian, yea, rather like Gehazi, the servant of Elisha, +that it may stick to him for ever.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gen. Putnam.</span> I join you both, and swear by all the heroes +of New-England, that this arm, tho' fourscore and four [<i>Drawing +his sword.</i>], still nervous and strong, shall wield this sword to the +last in the support of liberty and my country, revenge the insult +offer'd to the immortal Montgomery, and brutal treatment of +the brave Allen.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>O Liberty! thou sunshine of the heart!</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Thou smile of nature, and thou soul of art!</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Without thy aid no human hope cou'd grow,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>And all we cou'd enjoy were turn'd to woe.</i><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="stagedir">[<i>Exeunt.</i></p> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_350" id="Page_350">[Pg 350]</a></span></p> + + + +<h2 class="gap3"><a name="THE_EPILOGUE" id="THE_EPILOGUE"></a>THE EPILOGUE.</h2> + +<p class="center">SPOKEN BY MR. FREEMAN.</p> + + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Since tyrants reign, and lust and lux'ry rule;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Since kings turn Neroes—statesmen play the fool;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Since parli'ment in cursed league combine,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To sport with rights that's sacred and divine;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Destroying towns with direful conflagration,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And murder subjects without provocation!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">These are but part of evils we could name,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not to their glory, but eternal shame.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Petitions—waste paper—great Pharaoh cries,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor care a rush for your remonstrances.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Each Jacobite, and ev'ry pimping Tory,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Waits for your wealth, to raise his future glory:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or pensions sure, must ev'ry rascal have,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who strove his might, to make <span class="smcap">Freeman</span> a slave.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Since this the case, to whom for succour cry?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To God, our swords, and sons of liberty!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Cast off the idol god!—kings are but vain!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Let justice rule, and independence reign.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Are ye not men? Pray who made men, but God?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet men make kings—to tremble at their nod!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What nonsense this—let's wrong with right oppose,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Since nought will do, but sound, impartial blows.<br /></span> +<table summary="bigbrace2" style="padding:0;border:0;border-collapse:collapse;margin-left:0%;"> +<tr> +<td><span class="i0">Let's act in earnest, not with vain pretence,</span></td> +<td rowspan="3" style="font-size:300%;">}</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><span class="i0">Adopt the language of sound <span class="smcap">Common Sense</span>,</span></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><span class="i0">And with one voice proclaim <span class="smcap">Independence</span>.</span></td> +</tr> +</table> +<span class="i0">Convince your foes you will defend your right,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That blows and knocks is all they will get by 't.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Let tyrants see that you are well prepar'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By proclamations, sword, nor speeches scar'd;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That liberty freeborn breathe in each soul!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One god-like union animate the whole!<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>End of the First Campaign.</i></p> + +<div class="tnote"> +<p class="center"><b>TRANSCRIBERS' NOTES</b></p> +<p class="gap2">General: Inconsistent hyphenation of eye(-)lids preserved as in original</p> +<p>General: Inconsistent punctuation of Bunker(')s-Hill preserved as in original</p> +<p>General: Variable punctuation after Roman numerals (e.g. iv.) preserved as in original</p> +<p>Page 290: , added after JUDAS</p> +<p>Page 293: "confident" as in original</p> +<p>Page 305: "They has often been told" as in original</p> +<p>Page 314: . added after "time to find him</p> +</div> + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's The Fall of British Tyranny, by John Leacock + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE FALL OF BRITISH TYRANNY *** + +***** This file should be named 29226-h.htm or 29226-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/9/2/2/29226/ + +Produced by David Starner, Brownfox and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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