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diff --git a/29229.txt b/29229.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..eafd89d --- /dev/null +++ b/29229.txt @@ -0,0 +1,3523 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Andre, by William Dunlap + +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: Andre + +Author: William Dunlap + +Editor: Montrose J. Moses + +Release Date: June 26, 2009 [EBook #29229] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ANDRE *** + + + + +Produced by David Starner, Brownfox and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + +TRANSCRIBERS' NOTES + +This e-book contains the text of _Andre_, extracted from Representative +Plays by American Dramatists: Vol 1, 1765-1819. Comments and background to +all the plays and the other plays are available at Project Gutenberg. + +Spelling as in the original has been preserved. + + + + +ANDRE + +_By_ + +WILLIAM DUNLAP + +[Illustration: WILLIAM DUNLAP] + + + + +WILLIAM DUNLAP: + +FATHER OF THE AMERICAN THEATRE + +(1766-1839) + + +The life of William Dunlap is full of colour and variety. Upon his +shoulders very largely rests the responsibility for whatever knowledge we +have of the atmosphere of the early theatre in America, and of the +personalities of the players. For, as a boy, his father being a Loyalist, +there is no doubt that young William used to frequent the play-house of +the Red Coats, and we would like to believe actually saw some of the +performances with which Major Andre was connected. + +He was born at Perth Amboy, then the seat of government for the Province +of New Jersey, on February 19, 1766 (where he died September 28, 1839), +and, therefore, as an historian of the theatre, he was able to glean his +information from first hand sources. Yet, his monumental work on the +"History of the American Theatre" was written in late years, when memory +was beginning to be overclouded, and, in recent times, it has been shown +that Dunlap was not always careful in his dates or in his statements. +George Seilhamer, whose three volumes, dealing with the American Theatre +before the year 1800, are invaluable, is particularly acrimonious in his +strictures against Dunlap. Nevertheless, he has to confess his +indebtedness to the Father of the American Theatre. + +Dunlap was many-sided in his tastes and activities. There is small reason +to doubt that from his earliest years the theatre proved his most +attractive pleasure. But, when he was scarcely in the flush of youth, he +went to Europe, and studied art under Benjamin West. Throughout his life +he was ever producing canvases, and designing, and his interest in the art +activity of the country, which connects his name with the establishment of +the New York Academy of Design, together with his writing on the subject, +make him an important figure in that line of work. + +On his return from Europe, as we have already noted, he was fired to write +plays through the success of Royall Tyler, and he began his long career as +dramatist, which threw him upon his own inventive resourcefulness, and so +closely identified him with the name of the German, Kotzebue, whose plays +he used to translate and adapt by the wholesale, as did also Charles +Smith. + +The pictures of William Dunlap are very careful to indicate in realistic +fashion the fact that he had but one eye. When a boy, one of his playmates +at school threw a stone, which hit his right eye. But though he was thus +early made single-visioned, he saw more than his contemporaries; for he +was a man who mingled much in the social life of the time, and he had a +variety of friends, among them Charles Brockden Brown, the novelist, and +George Frederick Cooke, the tragedian. He was the biographer for both of +them, and these volumes are filled with anecdote, which throws light, not +only on the subjects, but upon the observational taste of the writer. +There are those who claim that he was unjust to Cooke, making him more of +a drunkard than he really was. And the effect the book had on some of its +readers may excellently well be seen by Lord Byron's exclamation, after +having finished it. As quoted by Miss Crawford, in her "Romance of the +American Theatre," he said: "Such a book! I believe, since 'Drunken +Barnaby's Journal,' nothing like it has drenched the press. All green-room +and tap-room, drams and the drama. Brandy, whiskey-punch, and, latterly, +toddy, overflow every page. Two things are rather marvelous; first, that a +man should live so long drunk, and next that he should have found a sober +biographer." + +Dunlap's first play was called "The Modest Soldier; or, Love in New York" +(1787). We shall let him be his own chronicler: + + As a medium of communication between the playwriter and the + manager, a man was pointed out, who had for a time been of some + consequence on the London boards, and now resided under another + name in New York. This was the Dubellamy of the English stage, a + first singer and _walking-gentleman_. He was now past his + meridian, but still a handsome man, and was found sufficiently + easy of access and full of the courtesy of the old school. A + meeting was arranged at the City Tavern, and a bottle of Madeira + discussed with the merits of this first-born of a would-be + author. The wine was praised, and the play was praised--the + first, perhaps, made the second tolerable--that must be good + which can repay a man of the world for listening to an author + who reads his own play. + +In due course of time, the youthful playwright reached the presence of the +then all-powerful actors, Hallam and Henry, and, after some conference +with them, the play was accepted. But though accepted, it was not +produced, that auspicious occasion being deferred whenever the subject was +broached. At this time, young Dunlap was introduced to the stony paths of +playwriting. He had to alter his manuscript in many ways, only to see it +laid upon the shelf until some future occasion. And, according to his +confession, the reason the piece did not receive immediate production was +because there was no part which Henry, the six-foot, handsome idol of the +day, could see himself in to his own satisfaction. + +Dunlap's next play was "The Father; or, American Shandy-ism,"[1] which was +produced on September 7, 1789. It was published almost immediately, and +was later reprinted, under the title of "The Father of an Only Child." + +Most historians call attention to the fact that to Dunlap belongs the +credit of having first introduced to the American stage the German dialect +of the later Comedian. Even as we look to Tyler's "The Contrast" for the +first Yankee, to Samuel Low's "Politician Out-witted" for an early example +of Negro dialect, so may we trace other veins of American characteristics +as they appeared in early American dramas. + +But it is to "Darby's Return,"[2] the musical piece, that our interest +points, because it was produced for the benefit of Thomas Wignell, at the +New-York Theatre (November 24, 1789), and probably boasted among its +first-nighters George Washington. Writes Dunlap: + + The eyes of the audience were frequently bent on his + countenance, and to watch the emotions produced by any + particular passage upon him was the simultaneous employment of + all. When Wignell, as _Darby_, recounts what had befallen him in + America, in New York, at the adoption of the Federal + Constitution, and the inauguration of the President, the + interest expressed by the audience in the looks and the changes + of countenance of this great man became intense. + +And then there follows an indication by Dunlap of where Washington smiled, +and where he showed displeasure. And, altogether, there was much +perturbation of mind over every quiver of his eye-lash. The fact of the +matter is, as a playgoer, the Father of our Country figured quite as +constantly as the Father of our Theatre. When the seat of Government +changed from New York to Philadelphia, President Washington's love of the +theatre prompted many theatrical enterprises to follow in his wake, and we +have an interesting picture, painted in words by Seilhamer (ii, 316), of +the scene at the old Southwark on such an occasion. He says: + + [The President] frequently occupied the east stage-box, which + was fitted up expressly for his reception. Over the front of the + box was the United States coat-of-arms and the interior was + gracefully festooned with red drapery. The front of the box and + the seats were cushioned. According to John [_sic_] Durang, + Washington's reception at the theatre was always exceedingly + formal and ceremonious. A soldier was generally posted at each + stage-door; four soldiers were placed in the gallery; a military + guard attended. Mr. Wignell, in a full dress of black, with his + hair elaborately powdered in the fashion of the time, and + holding two wax candles in silver candle-sticks, was accustomed + to receive the President at the box-door and conduct Washington + and his party to their seats. Even the newspapers began to take + notice of the President's contemplated visits to the theatre. + +This is the atmosphere which must have attended the performance of +Dunlap's "Darby's Return." + +The play which probably is best known to-day, as by William Dunlap, is his +"Andre,"[3] in which Washington figures as the General, later to appear +under his full name, when Dunlap utilized the old drama in a manuscript +libretto, entitled "The Glory of Columbia--Her Yeomanry" (1817). The play +was produced on March 30, 1798, after Dunlap had become manager of the New +Park Theatre, within whose proscenium it was given. Professor Matthews, +editing the piece for the Dunlap Society (No. 4, 1887), claims that this +was the first drama acted in the United States during Washington's life, +in which he was made to appear on the stage of a theatre. But it must not +be forgotten that in "The Fall of British Tyranny," written in 1776, by +Leacock, Washington appears for the first time in any piece of American +fiction. Dunlap writes of the performance (American Theatre, ii, 20): + + The receipts were 817 dollars, a temporary relief. The play was + received with warm applause, until Mr. Cooper, in the character + of a young American officer, who had been treated as a brother + by Andre when a prisoner with the British, in his zeal and + gratitude, having pleaded for the life of the spy in vain, tears + the American cockade from his casque, and throws it from him. + This was not, perhaps could not be, understood by a mixed + assembly; they thought the country and its defenders insulted, + and a hiss ensued--it was soon quieted, and the play ended with + applause. But the feeling excited by the incident was propagated + out of doors. Cooper's friends wished the play withdrawn, on his + account, fearing for his popularity. However, the author made an + alteration in the incident, and subsequently all went on to the + end with applause. + +A scene from the last act of "Andre"[4] was produced at an American Drama +Matinee, under the auspices of the American Drama Committee of the Drama +League of America, New York Centre, on January 22nd and 23rd, 1917. There +are many Arnold and Andre plays, some of which have been noted by +Professor Matthews.[5] Another interesting historical study is the stage +popularity of Nathan Hale. + +We might go on indefinitely, narrating incidents connected with Dunlap as +citizen, painter, playwright, author, and theatrical manager, for within a +very short time he managed the John Street and New Park Theatres, retiring +for a while in 1805. + +But this is sufficient to illustrate the pioneer character of his work and +influence. Inaccurate he may have been in his "History of the American +Theatre," but the atmosphere is there, and he never failed to recognize +merit, and to give touches of character to the actors, without which our +impression of the early theatre in this country would be the poorer. The +name of William Dunlap is intimately associated with the beginnings of +American painting, American literary life and the American Theatre. It is +for these he will ever remain distinguished. + +As a playwright, he wrote so rapidly, and so constantly utilized over and +over again, not only his own material, but the materials of others, that +it is not surprising to find him often in dispute with dramatic authors +of the time. A typical disagreement occurred in the case of the actor John +Hodgkinson (1767-1805), whose drama, "The Man of Fortitude; or, the +Knight's Adventure," given at the John Street Theatre, on June 7, 1797, +was, according to Dunlap, based on his own one-act verse play, "The +Knight's Adventure," submitted to the actor some years before. + +Only the play, based on the 1798 edition, is here reproduced. The +authentic documents are omitted. + +FOOTNOTES: + +[1] The/Father;/or,/American Shandy-ism./A Comedy,/As performed at the +New-York Theatre,/By the/Old American Company./Written in the year +1788./With what fond hope, through many a blissful hour,/We give the soul +to Fancy's pleasing pow'r./Conquest of Canaan./New-York:/Printed by Hodge, +Allen & Campbell./ M, DCC, LXXXIX./ + +[2] Darby's Return:/A Comic Sketch,/As Performed at the New-York Theatre,/ +November 24, 1789,/For the Benefit of Mr. Wignell. Written by William +Dunlap./ New-York:/Printed by Hodge, Allen and Campbell./And Sold at their +respective Bookstores,/and by Berry and Rogers./M, DCC, LXXXIX./ + +[3] Andre;/A Tragedy, in Five Acts:/As Performed by the Old American +Company,/ New-York, March 30, 1798./To which are added,/Authentic +Documents/respecting/ Major Andre;/Consisting of/Letters to Miss +Seward,/The/Cow Chace,/Proceedings of the Court Martial, &c./Copy Right +Secured./New-York:/Printed by T. & J. Swords, No. 99 Pearl-street./1798./ + +[4] One of Dunlap's best-known tragedies was "Leicester," published by +David Longworth in 1807. + +[5] Freneau began a play, "The Spy" (Pattee, "Poems of Philip Freneau"), +in which Andre was a character. + + + + +[Illustration: + +ANDRE; + +A _TRAGEDY_, IN FIVE ACTS: + +AS PERFORMED BY THE OLD AMERICAN COMPANY, NEW-YORK, MARCH 30, 1798. + + +TO WHICH ARE ADDED + +AUTHENTIC DOCUMENTS + +RESPECTING + +_MAJOR ANDRE;_ + +CONSISTING OF + +LETTERS TO MISS SEWARD, + +THE + +COW CHACE, + +PROCEEDINGS OF THE COURT MARTIAL, &c. + + +_COPY RIGHT SECURED._ + + +NEW-YORK: + +Printed by T. & J. SWORDS. No. 99 Pearl-street. + +--1798.-- + +FAC-SIMILE TITLE-PAGE OF THE FIRST EDITION] + + + + +PREFACE + + +More than nine years ago the Author made choice of the death of Major +Andre as the Subject of a Tragedy, and part of what is now offered to the +public was written at that time. Many circumstances discouraged him from +finishing his Play, and among them must be reckoned a prevailing opinion +that recent events are unfit subjects for tragedy. These discouragements +have at length all given way to his desire of bringing a story on the +Stage so eminently fitted, in his opinion, to excite interest in the +breasts of an American audience. + +In exhibiting a stage representation of a real transaction, the +particulars of which are fresh in the minds of many of the audience, an +author has this peculiar difficulty to struggle with, that those who know +the events expect to see them _all_ recorded; and any deviation from what +they remember to be fact, appears to them as a fault in the poet; they are +disappointed, their expectations are not fulfilled, and the writer is more +or less condemned, not considering the difference between the poet and the +historian, or not knowing that what is intended to be exhibited is a free +poetical picture, not an exact historical portrait. + +Still further difficulties has the Tragedy of Andre to surmount, +difficulties independent of its own demerits, in its way to public favour. +The subject necessarily involves political questions; but the Author +presumes that he owes no apology to any one for having shewn himself an +American. The friends of Major Andre (and it appears that all who knew him +were his friends) will look with a jealous eye on the Poem, whose +principal incident is the sad catastrophe which his misconduct, in +submitting to be an instrument in a transaction of treachery and deceit, +justly brought upon him: but these friends have no cause of offence; the +Author has adorned the poetical character of Andre with every virtue; he +has made him his Hero; to do which, he was under the necessity of making +him condemn his own conduct, in the one dreadfully unfortunate action of +his life. To shew the effects which Major Andre's excellent qualities had +upon the minds of men, the Author has drawn a generous and amiable youth, +so blinded by his love for the accomplished Briton, as to consider his +country, and the great commander of her armies, as in the commission of +such horrid injustice, that he, in the anguish of his soul, disclaims the +service. In this it appears, since the first representation, that the +Author has gone near to offend the veterans of the American army who were +present on the first night, and who not knowing the sequel of the action, +felt much disposed to condemn him: but surely they must remember the +diversity of opinion which agitated the minds of men at that time, on the +question of the propriety of putting Andre to death; and when they add the +circumstances of Andre's having saved the life of this youth, and gained +his ardent friendship, they will be inclined to mingle with their +disapprobation, a sentiment of pity, and excuse, perhaps commend the Poet, +who has represented the action without sanctioning it by his approbation. + +As a sequel to the affair of the cockade, the Author has added the +following lines, which the reader is requested to insert, page 55, between +the 5th and 15th lines, instead of the lines he will find there, which +were printed before the piece was represented.[6]-- + +BLAND. + +Noble M'Donald, truth and honour's champion! +Yet think not strange that my intemperance wrong'd thee: +Good as thou art! for, would'st thou, canst thou, think it? +My tongue, unbridled, hath the same offence, +With action violent, and boisterous tone, +Hurl'd on that glorious man, whose pious labours +Shield from every ill his grateful country! +That man, whom friends to adoration love, +And enemies revere.--Yes, M'Donald, +Even in the presence of the first of men +Did I abjure the service of my country, +And reft my helmet of that glorious badge +Which graces even the brow of Washington. +How shall I see him more!-- + +M'DONALD. + +Alive himself to every generous impulse, +He hath excus'd the impetuous warmth of youth, +In expectation that thy fiery soul, +Chasten'd by time and reason, will receive +The stamp indelible of godlike virtue. +To me, in trust, he gave this badge disclaim'd, +With power, when thou shouldst see thy wrongful error, +From him, to reinstate it in thy helm, +And thee in his high favour. [_Gives the cockade._ + +BLAND [_takes the cockade and replaces it_]. + +Shall I speak my thoughts of thee and him? +No:--let my actions henceforth shew what thou +And he have made me. Ne'er shall my helmet +Lack again its proudest, noblest ornament, +Until my country knows the rest of peace, +Or Bland the peace of death! [_Exit._ + +This alteration, as well as the whole performance, on the second night, +met the warm approbation of the audience. + +To the performers the Author takes this opportunity of returning his +thanks for their exertions in his behalf; perfectly convinced, that on +this, as on former occasions, the members of the Old American Company have +anxiously striven to oblige him. + +If this Play is successful, it will be a proof that recent events may be +so managed in tragedy as to command popular attention; if it is +unsuccessful, the question must remain undetermined until some more +powerful writer shall again make the experiment. The Poem is now submitted +to the ordeal of closet examination, with the Author's respectful +assurance to every reader, that as it is not his interest, so it has not +been his intention, to offend any; but, on the contrary, to impress, +through the medium of a pleasing stage exhibition, the sublime lessons of +Truth and Justice upon the minds of his countrymen. + +W. DUNLAP. + +_New-York, April 4th, 1798._ + + + + +PROLOGUE + +SPOKEN BY MR. MARTIN. + + + A native Bard, a native scene displays, + And claims your candour for his daring lays: + Daring, so soon, in mimic scenes to shew, + What each remembers as a real woe. + Who has forgot when gallant ANDRE died? + A name by Fate to Sorrow's self allied. + Who has forgot, when o'er the untimely bier, + Contending armies paus'd, to drop a tear. + + Our Poet builds upon a fact tonight; + Yet claims, in building, every Poet's right; + To choose, embellish, lop, or add, or blend, + Fiction with truth, as best may suit his end; + Which, he avows, is pleasure to impart, + And move the passions but to mend the heart. + + Oh, may no party-spirit blast his views, + Or turn to ill the meanings of the Muse: + She sings of wrongs long past, Men as they were, + To instruct, without reproach, the Men that are; + Then judge the Story by the genius shewn, + And praise, or damn, it, for its worth alone. + + + + +CHARACTERS + + +GENERAL, _dress, American staff uniform, blue, faced with +buff, large gold epaulets, cocked hat, with the black and +white cockade, indicating the union with France, buff +waistcoat and breeches, boots,_ Mr. Hallam. + +M'DONALD, _a man of forty years of age, uniform nearly the +same of the first,_ Mr. Tyler. + +SEWARD, _a man of thirty years of age, staff uniform,_ Mr. Martin. + +ANDRE, _a man of twenty-nine years of age, full British +uniform after the first scene,_ Mr. Hodgkinson. + +BLAND, _a youthful but military figure, in the uniform of +a Captain of horse--dress, a short blue coat, faced with +red, and trimmed with gold lace, two small epaulets, a +white waistcoat, leather breeches, boots and spurs; over +the coat, crossing the chest from the right shoulder, a +broad buff belt, to which is suspended a manageable hussar +sword; a horseman's helmet on the head, decorated as +usual, and the union cockade affixed,_ Mr. Cooper. + +MELVILLE, _a man of middle age, and grave deportment; his +dress a Captain's uniform when on duty; a blue coat, with +red facings, gold epaulet, white waistcoat and breeches, +boots and cocked hat, with the union cockade,_ Mr. Williamson. + +BRITISH OFFICER, Mr. Hogg. + +AMERICAN OFFICER, Mr. Miller. + +CHILDREN, Master Stockwell and Miss Hogg. + +AMERICAN SERGEANT, Mr. Seymour. + +AMERICAN OFFICERS AND SOLDIERS, &c. + +MRS. BLAND, Mrs. Melmoth. + +HONORA, Mrs. Johnson. + +SCENE, the Village of Tappan, Encampment, and adjoining Country. Time, ten +hours. + + + + +ANDRE + +ACT I. + + +SCENE I. _A Wood seen by starlight; an Encampment at a distance appearing +between the trees._ + +_Enter MELVILLE._ + +MELVILLE. + +The solemn hour, "when night and morning meet," +Mysterious time, to superstition dear, +And superstition's guides, now passes by; +Deathlike in solitude. The sentinels, +In drowsy tones, from post to post, send on +The signal of the passing hour. "All's well," +Sounds through the camp. Alas! all is not well; +Else, why stand I, a man, the friend of man, +At midnight's depth, deck'd in this murderous guise, +The habiliment of death, the badge of dire, +Necessitous coercion. 'T is not well. +--In vain the enlighten'd friends of suffering man +Point out, of war, the folly, guilt, and madness. +Still, age succeeds to age, and war to war; +And man, the murderer, marshalls out his hosts +In all the gaiety of festive pomp, +To spread around him death and desolation. +How long! how long!---- +--Methinks I hear the tread of feet this way. +My meditating mood may work me woe. [_Draws._ +Stand, whoso'er thou art. Answer. Who's there? + +_Enter BLAND._ + +BLAND. + +A friend. + +MELVILLE. + +Advance and give the countersign. + +BLAND. + +Hudson. + +MELVILLE. + +What, Bland! + +BLAND. + +Melville, my friend, you _here_? + +MELVILLE. + +And _well_, my brave young friend. But why do you, +At this dead hour of night, approach the camp, +On foot, and thus alone? + +BLAND. + + I have but now +Dismounted; and, from yon sequester'd cot, +Whose lonely taper through the crannied wall +Sheds its faint beams, and twinkles midst the trees, +Have I, adventurous, grop'd my darksome way. +My servant, and my horses, spent with toil, +There wait till morn. + +MELVILLE. + + Why waited not yourself? + +BLAND. + +Anxious to know the truth of those reports +Which, from the many mouths of busy Fame, +Still, as I pass'd, struck varying on my ear, +Each making th' other void. Nor does delay +The colour of my hasteful business suit. +I bring dispatches for our great Commander; +And hasted hither with design to wait +His rising, or awake him with the sun. + +MELVILLE. + +You will not need the last, for the blest sun +Ne'er rises on his slumbers; by the dawn +We see him mounted gaily in the field, +Or find him wrapt in meditation deep, +Planning the welfare of our war-worn land. + +BLAND. + +Prosper, kind heaven! and recompense his cares. + +MELVILLE. + +You're from the South, if I presume aright? + +BLAND. + +I am; and, Melville, I am fraught with news? +The South teems with events; convulsing ones: +The Briton, there, plays at no mimic war; +With gallant face he moves, and gallantly is met. +Brave spirits, rous'd by glory, throng our camp; +The hardy hunter, skill'd to fell the deer, +Or start the sluggish bear from covert rude; +And not a clown that comes, but from his youth +Is trained to pour from far the leaden death, +To climb the steep, to struggle with the stream, +To labour firmly under scorching skies, +And bear, unshrinking, winter's roughest blast. +This, and that heaven-inspir'd enthusiasm +Which ever animates the patriot's breast, +Shall far outweigh the lack of discipline. + +MELVILLE. + +Justice is ours; what shall prevail against her? + +BLAND. + +But as I past along, many strange tales, +And monstrous rumours, have my ears assail'd: +That Arnold had prov'd false; but he was ta'en, +And hung, or to be hung--I know not what. +Another told, that all our army, with their +Much lov'd Chief, sold and betray'd, were captur'd. +But, as I nearer drew, at yonder cot, +'T was said, that Arnold, traitor like, had fled; +And that a Briton, tried and prov'd a spy, +Was, on this day, as such, to suffer death. + +MELVILLE. + +As you drew near, plain truth advanced to meet you. +'T is even as you heard, my brave young friend. +Never had people on a single throw +More interest at stake; when he, who held +For us the die, prov'd false, and play'd us foul. +But for a circumstance of that nice kind, +Of cause so microscopic, that the tongues +Of inattentive men call it the effect +Of chance, we must have lost the glorious game. + +BLAND. + +Blest, blest be heaven! whatever was the cause! + +MELVILLE. + +The blow ere this had fallen that would have bruis'd +The tender plant which we have striven to rear, +Crush'd to the dust, no more to bless this soil. + +BLAND. + +What warded off the blow? + +MELVILLE. + +The brave young man, who this day dies, was seiz'd +Within our bounds, in rustic garb disguis'd. +He offer'd bribes to tempt the band that seiz'd him; +But the rough farmer, for his country arm'd, +That soil defending which his ploughshare turn'd, +Those laws, his father chose, and he approv'd, +Cannot, as mercenary soldiers may, +Be brib'd to sell the public-weal for gold. + +BLAND. + +'T is well. Just heaven! O, grant that thus may fall +All those who seek to bring this land to woe! +All those, who, or by open force, or dark +And secret machinations, seek to shake +The Tree of Liberty, or stop its growth, +In any soil where thou hast pleas'd to plant it. + +MELVILLE. + +Yet not a heart but pities and would save him; +For all confirm that he is brave and virtuous; +Known, but till now, the darling child of Honour. + +BLAND [_contemptuously_]. + +And how is call'd this--honourable spy? + +MELVILLE. + +Andre's his name. + +BLAND [_much agitated_]. + + Andre! + +MELVILLE. + + Aye, Major Andre. + +BLAND. + +Andre! Oh no, my friend, you're sure deceiv'd-- +I'll pawn my life, my ever sacred fame, +My General's favour, or a soldier's honour, +That gallant Andre never yet put on +The guise of falsehood. Oh, it cannot be! + +MELVILLE. + +How might I be deceiv'd? I've heard him, seen him, +And what I tell, I tell from well-prov'd knowledge; +No second tale-bearer, who heard the news. + +BLAND. + +Pardon me, Melville. Oh, that well-known name, +So link'd with circumstances infamous!-- +My friend must pardon me. Thou wilt not blame +When I shall tell what cause I have to love him: +What cause to think him nothing more the pupil +Of Honour stern, than sweet Humanity. +Rememberest thou, when cover'd o'er with wounds, +And left upon the field, I fell the prey +Of Britain? To a loathsome prison-ship +Confin'd, soon had I sunk, victim of death, +A death of aggravated miseries; +But, by benevolence urg'd, this best of men, +This gallant youth, then favour'd, high in power, +Sought out the pit obscene of foul disease, +Where I, and many a suffering soldier lay, +And, like an angel, seeking good for man, +Restor'd us light, and partial liberty. +Me he mark'd out his own. He nurst and cur'd, +He lov'd and made his friend. I liv'd by him, +And in my heart he liv'd, till, when exchang'd, +Duty and honour call'd me from my friend.-- +Judge how my heart is tortur'd.--Gracious heaven! +Thus, thus to meet him on the brink of death-- +A death so infamous! Heav'n grant my prayer. [_Kneels._ +That I may save him, O, inspire my heart +With thoughts, my tongue with words that move to pity! [_Rises._ +Quick, Melville, shew me where my Andre lies. + +MELVILLE. + +Good wishes go with you. + +BLAND. + +I'll save my friend. [_Exeunt._ + + +SCENE, _the Encampment, by starlight._ + +_Enter the GENERAL, M'DONALD and SEWARD._ + +GENERAL. + +'T is well. Each sentinel upon his post +Stands firm, and meets me at the bayonet's point; +While in his tent the weary soldier lies, +The sweet reward of wholesome toil enjoying; +Resting secure as erst within his cot +He careless slept, his rural labour o'er; +Ere Britons dar'd to violate those laws, +Those boasted laws by which themselves are govern'd, +And strove to make their fellow-subjects slaves. + +SEWARD. + +They know to whom they owe their present safety. + +GENERAL. + +I hope they know that to themselves they owe it: +To that good discipline which they observe, +The discipline of men to order train'd, +Who know its value, and in whom 't is virtue: +To that prompt hardihood with which they meet +Or toil or danger, poverty or death. +Mankind who know not whence that spirit springs, +Which holds at bay all Britain's boasted power, +Gaze on their deeds astonish'd. See the youth +Start from his plough, and straightway play the hero; +Unmurmuring bear such toils as veterans shun; +Rest all content upon the dampsome earth; +Follow undaunted to the deathful charge; +Or, when occasion asks, lead to the breach, +Fearless of all the unusual din of war, +His former peaceful mates. O patriotism! +Thou wond'rous principle of god-like action! +Wherever liberty is found, there reigns +The love of country. Now the self-same spirit +Which fill'd the breast of great Leonidas, +Swells in the hearts of thousands on these plains, +Thousands who never heard the hero's tale. +'T is this alone which saves thee, O my country! +And, till that spirit flies these western shores, +No power on earth shall crush thee! + +SEWARD. + + 'T is wond'rous! +The men of other climes from this shall see +How easy 't is to shake oppression off; +How all resistless is an union'd people: +And hence, from our success (which, by my soul, +I feel as much secur'd, as though our foes +Were now within their floating prisons hous'd, +And their proud prows all pointing to the east), +Shall other nations break their galling fetters, +And re-assume the dignity of man. + +M'DONALD. + +Are other nations in that happy state, +That, having broke Coercion's iron yoke, +They can submit to Order's gentle voice, +And walk on earth self-ruled? I much do fear it. +As to ourselves, in truth, I nothing see, +In all the wond'rous deeds which we perform, +But plain effects from causes full as plain. +Rises not man for ever 'gainst oppression? +It is the law of life; he can't avoid it. +But when the love of property unites +With sense of injuries past, and dread of future. +Is it then wonderful, that he should brave +A lesser evil to avoid a greater? + +GENERAL [_sportively_]. + +'T is hard, quite hard, we may not please ourselves, +By our great deeds ascribing to our virtue. + +SEWARD. + +M'Donald never spares to lash our pride. + +M'DONALD. + +In truth I know of nought to make you proud. +I think there's none within the camp that draws +With better will his sword than does M'Donald. +I have a home to guard. My son is--butcher'd-- + +SEWARD. + +Hast thou no nobler motives for thy arms +Than love of property and thirst of vengeance? + +M'DONALD. + +Yes, my good Seward, and yet nothing wond'rous. +I love this country for the sake of man. +My parents, and I thank them, cross'd the seas, +And made me native of fair Nature's world, +With room to grow and thrive in. I have thriven; +And feel my mind unshackled, free, expanding, +Grasping, with ken unbounded, mighty thoughts, +At which, if chance my mother had, good dame, +In Scotia, our revered parent soil, +Given me to see the day, I should have shrunk +Affrighted. Now, I see in this new world +A resting spot for man, if he can stand +Firm in his place, while Europe howls around him, +And all unsettled as the thoughts of vice, +Each nation in its turn threats him with feeble malice. +One trial, now, we prove; and I have met it. + +GENERAL. + +And met it like a man, my brave M'Donald. + +M'DONALD. + +I hope so; and I hope my every act +Has been the offspring of deliberate judgment; +Yet, feeling second's reason's cool resolves. +Oh! I could hate, if I did not more pity, +These bands of mercenary Europeans, +So wanting in the common sense of nature, +As, without shame, to sell themselves for pelf, +To aid the cause of darkness, murder man-- +Without inquiry murder, and yet call +Their trade the trade of honour--high-soul'd honour-- +Yet honour shall accord in act with falsehood. +Oh, that proud man should e'er descend to play +The tempter's part, and lure men to their ruin! +Deceit and honour badly pair together. + +SEWARD. + +You have much shew of reason; yet, methinks +What you suggest of one, whom fickle Fortune, +In her changeling mood, hath hurl'd, unpitying, +From her topmost height to lowest misery, +Tastes not of charity. Andre, I mean. + +M'DONALD. + +I mean him, too; sunk by misdeed, not fortune. +Fortune and chance, Oh, most convenient words! +Man runs the wild career of blind ambition, +Plunges in vice, takes falsehood for his buoy, +And when he feels the waves of ruin o'er him, +Curses, in "good set terms," poor Lady Fortune. + +GENERAL [_sportively to SEWARD_]. + +His mood is all untoward; let us leave him. +Tho' he may think that he is bound to rail, +We are not bound to hear him. [_To M'DONALD._ +Grant you that? + +M'DONALD. + +Oh, freely, freely! you I never rail on. + +GENERAL. + +No thanks for that; you've courtesy for office. + +M'DONALD. + +You slander me. + +GENERAL. + + Slander that would not wound. +Worthy M'Donald, though it suits full well +The virtuous man to frown on all misdeeds; +Yet ever keep in mind that man is frail; +His tide of passion struggling still with Reason's +Fair and favourable gale, and adverse +Driving his unstable Bark upon the +Rocks of error. Should he sink thus shipwreck'd, +Sure it is not Virtue's voice that triumphs +In his ruin. I must seek rest. Adieu! + + [_Exeunt GENERAL and SEWARD._ + +M'DONALD. + +Both good and great thou art: first among men: +By nature, or by early habit, grac'd +With that blest quality which gives due force +To every faculty, and keeps the mind +In healthful equipoise, ready for action; +Invaluable temperance--by all +To be acquired, yet scarcely known to any. [_Exit._ + +_End of the First Act._ + + + + +ACT II. + + +SCENE, _a Prison._ + +_ANDRE, discovered in a pensive posture, sitting at a table; a book by + him and candles: his dress neglected, his hair dishevelled: he rises + and comes forward._ + +ANDRE. + +Kind heaven be thank'd for that I stand alone +In this sad hour of life's brief pilgrimage! +Single in misery; no one else involving, +In grief, in shame, and ruin. 'T is my comfort. +Thou, my thrice honour'd sire, in peace went'st down +Unto the tomb, nor knew to blush, nor knew +A pang for me! And thou, revered matron, +Couldst bless thy child, and yield thy breath in peace! +No wife shall weep, no child lament, my loss. +Thus may I consolation find in what +Was once my woe. I little thought to joy +In not possessing, as I erst possest, +Thy love, Honora! Andre's death, perhaps, +May cause a cloud pass o'er thy lovely face; +The pearly tear may steal from either eye; +For thou mayest feel a transient pang, nor wrong +A husband's rights: more than a transient pang +O mayest thou never feel! The morn draws nigh +To light me to my shame. Frail nature shrinks.-- +And _is_ death then so fearful? I have brav'd +Him, fearless, in the field, and steel'd my breast +Against his thousand horrors; but his cool, +His sure approach, requires a fortitude +Which nought but conscious rectitude can give. + + [_Retires, and sits leaning._ + +_Enter BLAND unperceived by ANDRE._ + +BLAND. + +And is that Andre! Oh, how chang'd! Alas! +Where is that martial fire, that generous warmth, +Which glow'd his manly countenance throughout, +And gave to every look, to every act, +The tone of high chivalrous animation?-- +Andre, my friend! look up. + +ANDRE. + + Who calls _me_ friend? + +BLAND. + +Young Arthur Bland. + +ANDRE [_rising_]. + + That name sounds like a friend's. [_With emotion._ +I have inquir'd for thee--wish'd much to see thee-- +I prithee take no note of these fool's tears-- +My heart was full--and seeing thee-- + +BLAND [_embracing him_]. + + O Andre!-- +I have but now arrived from the south-- +Nor heard--till now--of this--I cannot speak. +Is this a place?--Oh, thus to find my friend! + +ANDRE. + +Still dost thou call me friend? I, who dared act +Against my reason, my declared opinion; +Against my conscience, and a soldier's fame? +Oft in the generous heat of glowing youth, +Oft have I said how fully I despis'd +All bribery base, all treacherous tricks in war: +Rather my blood should bathe these hostile shores, +And have it said, "he died a gallant soldier," +Than with my country's gold encourage treason, +And thereby purchase gratitude and fame. + +BLAND. + +Still mayest thou say it, for thy heart's the same. + +ANDRE. + +Still is my heart the same: still may I say it: +But now my deeds will rise against my words; +And should I dare to talk of honest truth, +Frank undissembling probity and faith, +Memory would crimson o'er my burning cheek, +And actions retrospected choke the tale. +Still is my heart the same. But there has past +A day, an hour--which ne'er can be recall'd! +Unhappy man! tho' all thy life pass pure; +Mark'd by benevolence thy every deed; +The out-spread map, which shews the way thou'st trod, +Without one devious track, or doubtful line; +It all avails thee nought, if in one hour, +One hapless hour, thy feet are led astray;-- +Thy happy deeds, all blotted from remembrance; +Cancel'd the record of thy former good. +Is it not hard, my friend? Is 't not unjust? + +BLAND. + +Not every record cancel'd--Oh, there are hearts, +Where Virtue's image, when 't is once engrav'd, +Can never know erasure. + +ANDRE. + + Generous Bland! [_Takes his hand._ +The hour draws nigh which ends my life's sad story. +I should be firm-- + +BLAND. + + By heaven thou shalt not die! +Thou dost not sure deserve it. Betray'd, perhaps-- +Condemn'd without due circumstance made known? +Thou didst not mean to tempt our officers? +Betray our yeoman soldiers to destruction? +Silent. Nay, then 't was from a duteous wish +To serve the cause thou wast in honour bound-- + +ANDRE. + +Kind is my Bland, who to his generous heart, +Still finds excuses for his erring friend. +Attentive hear and judge me.-- +Pleas'd with the honours daily shower'd upon me, +I glow'd with martial heat, my name to raise +Above the vulgar herd, who live to die, +And die to be forgotten. Thus I stood, +When, avarice or ambition Arnold tempted, +His country, fame, and honour to betray; +Linking his name to infamy eternal. +In confidence it was to be propos'd, +To plan with him the means which should ensure +Thy country's downfall. Nothing then I saw +But confidential favour in the service, +My country's glory, and my mounting fame; +Forgot my former purity of thought, +And high-ton'd honour's scruples disregarded. + +BLAND. + +It was thy duty so to serve thy country. + +ANDRE. + +Nay, nay; be cautious ever to admit +That duty can beget dissimulation. +On ground, unoccupied by either part, +Neutral esteem'd, I landed, and was met. +But ere my conference was with Arnold clos'd, +The day began to dawn: I then was told +That till the night I must my safety seek +In close concealment. Within your posts convey'd, +I found myself involv'd in unthought dangers. +Night came. I sought the vessel which had borne +Me to the fatal spot; but she was gone. +Retreat that way cut off, again I sought +Concealment with the traitors of your army. +Arnold now granted passes, and I doff'd +My martial garb, and put on curs'd disguise! +Thus in a peasant's form I pass'd your posts; +And when, as I conceiv'd, my danger o'er, +Was stopt and seiz'd by some returning scouts. +So did ambition lead me, step by step, +To treat with traitors, and encourage treason; +And then, bewilder'd in the guilty scene, +To quit my martial designating badges, +Deny my name, and sink into the spy. + +BLAND. + +Thou didst no more than was a soldier's duty, +To serve the part on which he drew his sword. +Thou shalt not die for this. Straight will I fly-- +I surely shall prevail-- + +ANDRE. + + It is in vain. +All has been tried. Each friendly argument-- + +BLAND. + +All has not yet been tried. The powerful voice +Of friendship in thy cause, has not been heard. +My General favours _me_, and loves my father-- +My gallant father! would that he were here! +But he, perhaps, now wants an Andre's care, +To cheer his hours--perhaps, now languishes +Amidst those horrors whence thou sav'd'st his son! +The present moment claims my thought. Andre-- +I fly to save thee!-- + +ANDRE. + + Bland, it is in vain. +But, hold--there is a service thou may'st do me. + +BLAND. + +Speak it. + +ANDRE. + + Oh, think, and as a soldier think, +How I must die--The _manner_ of my death-- +Like the base ruffian, or the midnight thief, +Ta'en in the act of stealing from the poor, +To be turn'd off the felon's--murderer's cart, +A mid-air spectacle to gaping clowns:-- +To run a short, an envied course of glory, +And end it on a gibbet.---- + +BLAND. + + Damnation!! + +ANDRE. + +Such is my doom. Oh! have the manner changed, +And of mere death I'll think not. Dost thou think--? +Perhaps thou canst gain _that_----? + +BLAND [_almost in a frenzy_]. + + Thou shalt not die! + +ANDRE. + +Let me, Oh! let me die a soldier's death, +While friendly clouds of smoke shroud from all eyes +My last convulsive pangs, and I'm content. + +BLAND [_with increasing emotion_]. + +Thou shalt not die! Curse on the laws of war!-- +If worth like thine must thus be sacrificed, +To policy so cruel and unjust, +I will forswear my country and her service: +I'll hie me to the Briton, and with fire, +And sword, and every instrument of death +Or devastation, join in the work of war! +What, shall worth weigh for nought? I will avenge thee! + +ANDRE. + +Hold, hold, my friend; thy country's woes are full. +What! wouldst thou make me cause another traitor? +No more of this; and, if I die, believe me, +Thy country for my death incurs no blame. +Restrain thy ardour--but ceaselessly intreat, +That Andre may at least die as he lived, +A soldier. + +BLAND. + + By heaven thou shalt not die!-- + +[_BLAND rushes off: ANDRE looks after him with an expression of love + and gratitude, then retires up the stage. Scene closes._] + + +SCENE, _the GENERAL'S Quarters._ + +_Enter M'DONALD and SEWARD, in conversation._ + +M'DONALD [_coming forward_]. + +Three thousand miles the Atlantic wave rolls on, +Which bathed Columbia's shores, ere, on the strand +Of Europe, or of Afric, their continents, +Or sea-girt isles, it chafes.-- + +SEWARD. + + Oh! would to heaven +That in mid-way between these sever'd worlds, +Rose barriers, all impassable to man, +Cutting off intercourse, till either side +Had lost all memory of the other! + +M'DONALD. + +What spur now goads thy warm imagination? + +SEWARD. + +Then might, perhaps, one land on earth be found, +Free from th' extremes of poverty and riches; +Where ne'er a scepter'd tyrant should be known, +Or tyrant lordling, curses of creation;-- +Where the faint shrieks of woe-exhausted age, +Raving, in feeble madness, o'er the corse +Of a polluted daughter, stained by lust +Of viand-pamper'd luxury, might ne'er be heard;-- +Where the blasted form of much abused +Beauty, by villainy seduced, by knowledge +All unguarded, might ne'er be view'd, flitting +Obscene, 'tween lamp and lamp, i' th' midnight street +Of all defiling city; where the child---- + +M'DONALD. + +Hold! Shroud thy raven imagination! +Torture not me with images so curst! + +SEWARD. + +Soon shall our foes, inglorious, fly these shores. +Peace shall again return. Then Europe's ports +Shall pour a herd upon us, far more fell +Than those, her mercenary sons, who, now, +Threaten our sore chastisement. + +M'DONALD. + + Prophet of ill, +From Europe shall enriching commerce flow, +And many an ill attendant; but from thence +Shall likewise flow blest Science. Europe's knowledge, +By sharp experience bought, we should appropriate; +Striving thus to leap from that simplicity, +With ignorance curst, to that simplicity, +By knowledge blest; unknown the gulf between. + +SEWARD. + +Mere theoretic dreaming! + +M'DONALD. + + Blest wisdom +Seems, from out the chaos of the social world, +Where good and ill, in strange commixture, float, +To rise, by strong necessity, impell'd; +Starting, like Love divine, from womb of Night, +Illuming all, to order all reducing; +And shewing, by its bright and noontide blaze, +That happiness alone proceeds from justice. + +SEWARD. + +Dreams, dreams! Man can know nought but ill on earth. + +M'DONALD. + +I'll to my bed, for I have watch'd all night; +And may my sleep give pleasing repetition +Of these my waking dreams! Virtue's incentives. [_Exit._ + +SEWARD. + +Folly's chimeras rather: guides to error. + +_Enter BLAND, preceded by a SERGEANT._ + +SERGEANT. + +Pacquets for the General. [_Exit._ + +BLAND. + + Seward, my friend! + +SEWARD. + +Captain! I'm glad to see the hue of health +Sit on a visage from the sallow south. + +BLAND. + +The lustihood of youth hath yet defied +The parching sun, and chilling dew of even. +The General--Seward--? + +SEWARD. + + I will lead you to him. + +BLAND. + +Seward, I must make bold. Leave us together, +When occasion offers. 'T will be friendly. + +SEWARD. + +I will not cross your purpose. [_Exeunt._ + + +SCENE, _A Chamber._ + +_Enter MRS. BLAND._ + +MRS. BLAND. + +Yes, ever be this day a festival +In my domestic calendar. This morn +Will see my husband free. Even now, perhaps, +Ere yet Aurora flies the eastern hills, +Shunning the sultry sun, my Bland embarks. +Already, on the Hudson's dancing wave, +He chides the sluggish rowers, or supplicates +For gales propitious; that his eager arms +May clasp his wife, may bless his little ones. +Oh! how the tide of joy makes my heart bound, +Glowing with high and ardent expectation! + +_Enter two CHILDREN._ + +1st CHILD. + +Here we are, Mama, up, and dress'd already. + +MRS. BLAND. + +And why were ye so early? + +1st CHILD. + +Why, did not you tell us that Papa was to be home to-day? + +MRS. BLAND. + +I said, perhaps. + +2nd CHILD [_disappointed_]. + +Perhaps! + +1st CHILD. + +I don't like perhaps's. + +2nd CHILD. + +No, nor I neither; nor "may be so's." + +MRS. BLAND. + +We make not certainties, my pretty loves; +I do not like "perhaps's" more than you do. + +2nd CHILD. + +Oh! don't say so, Mama! for I'm sure I hardly ever ask you anything but +you answer me with "may be so," "perhaps,"--or "very likely." "Mama, shall +I go to the camp to-morrow, and see the General?" "May be so, my dear." +Hang "may be so," say I. + +MRS. BLAND. + +Well said, Sir Pertness. + +1st CHILD. + +But I am sure, Mama, you said, that, to-day, Papa would have his liberty. + +MRS. BLAND. + +So, your dear father, by his letters, told me. + +2nd CHILD. + +Why, then, I _am sure_ he will be here to-day. When he can come _to us_, +I'm sure he will not stay among those strange Englishmen and Hessians. I +often wish'd that I had wings to fly, for then I would soon be with him. + +MRS. BLAND. + +Dear boy! + +_Enter SERVANT and gives a letter to MRS. BLAND._ + +SERVANT. + +An express, madam, from New-York to Headquarters, in passing, delivered +this. + +2nd CHILD. + +Papa's coming home to-day, John. + + [_Exeunt SERVANT and CHILDREN._ + +MRS. BLAND. + +What fears assail me! Oh! I did not want +A letter now! [_She reads in great agitation, exclaiming, while her eyes +are fixed on the paper._] +My husband! doom'd to die! Retaliation! + [_She looks forward with wildness, consternation and horror._ +To die, if Andre dies! He dies to-day!-- +My husband to be murdered! And to-day! +To-day, if Andre dies! Retaliation! +O curst contrivance!--Madness relieve me! +Burst, burst, my brain!--Yet--Andre is not dead: +My husband lives. [_Looks at the letter._] "One man has power." +I fly to save the father of my children! + + [_Rushes out._ + +_End of the Second Act._ + + + + +ACT III. + + +SCENE, _the GENERAL'S Quarters._ + +_The GENERAL and BLAND come forward._ + +GENERAL [_papers in his hand_]. + +Captain, you are noted here with honourable +Praises. Depend upon that countenance +From me, which you have prov'd yourself so richly +Meriting. Both for your father's virtues, +And your own, your country owes you honour-- +The sole return the poor can make for service. + +BLAND. + +If from my country ought I've merited, +Or gain'd the approbation of her champion, +At any other time, I should not dare, +Presumptuously, to shew my sense of it; +But now, my tongue, all shameless, dares to name +The boon, the precious recompense, I wish, +Which, granted, pays all service, past or future, +O'erpays the utmost I can e'er achieve. + +GENERAL. + +Brief, my young friend, briefly, your purpose. + +BLAND. + +If I have done my duty as a soldier; +If I have brav'd all dangers for my country; +If my brave father has deserved ought; +Call all to mind--and cancel all--but grant +My one request--mine, and humanity's. + +GENERAL. + +Be less profuse of words, and name your wish; +If fit, its fitness is the best assurance +That not in vain you sue; but, if unjust, +Thy merits, nor the merits of thy race, +Cannot its nature alter, nor my mind, +From its determined opposition change. + +BLAND. + +You hold the fate of my most lov'd of friends; +As gallant soldier as e'er faced a foe, +Bless'd with each polish'd gift of social life, +And every virtue of humanity. +To me, a saviour from the pit of death, +To me, and many more my countrymen. +Oh! could my words portray him what he is; +Bring to your mind the blessings of his deeds, +While thro' the fever-heated, loathsome holds, +Of floating hulks, dungeons obscene, where ne'er +The dewy breeze of morn, or evening's coolness, +Breath'd on our parching skins, he pass'd along, +Diffusing blessings; still his power exerting, +To alleviate the woes which ruthless war, +Perhaps, thro' dire necessity, heap'd on us; +Surely, the scene would move you to forget +His late intent--(tho' only serving then, +As duty prompted)--and turn the rigour +Of War's iron law from him, the best of men, +Meant only for the worst. + +GENERAL. + + Captain, no more. + +BLAND. + +If Andre lives, the prisoner finds a friend; +Else helpless and forlorn-- +All men will bless the act, and bless thee for it. + +GENERAL. + +Think'st thou thy country would not curse the man, +Who, by a clemency ill-tim'd, ill-judg'd, +Encourag'd treason? That _pride_ encourag'd, +Which, by denying us the rights of nations, +Hath caus'd those ills which thou hast now portray'd? +Our prisoners, brave and generous peasantry, +As rebels have been treated, not as men. +'T is mine, brave yeomen, to assert your rights; +'T is mine to teach the foe, that, though array'd +In rude simplicity, ye, yet, are men, +And rank among the foremost. Oft their scouts, +The very refuse of the English arms, +Unquestion'd, have our countrymen consign'd +To death, when captur'd, mocking their agonies. + +BLAND. + +Curse them! [_Checking himself._] Yet let not censure fall on Andre. +Oh, there are Englishmen as brave, as good, +As ever land on earth might call its own; +And gallant Andre is among the best! + +GENERAL. + +Since they have hurl'd war on us, we must shew +That by the laws of war we will abide; +And have the power to bring their acts for trial, +To that tribunal, eminent 'mongst men, +Erected by the policy of nations, +To stem the flood of ills, which else fell war +Would pour, uncheck'd, upon the sickening world, +Sweeping away all trace of civil life. + +BLAND. + +To pardon him would not encourage ill. +His case is singular: his station high; +His qualities admired; his virtues lov'd. + +GENERAL. + +No more, my good young friend: it is in vain. +The men entrusted with thy country's rights +Have weigh'd, attentive, every circumstance. +An individual's virtue is, by them, +As highly prized as it can be by thee. +I know the virtues of this man, and love them. +But the destiny of millions, millions +Yet unborn, depends upon the rigour +Of this moment. The haughty Briton laughs +To scorn our armies and our councils. Mercy, +Humanity, call loudly, that we make +Our now despised power be felt, vindictive. +Millions demand the death of this young man. +My injur'd country, he his forfeit life +Must yield, to shield thy lacerated breast +From torture. [_To BLAND._] Thy merits are not overlook'd. +Promotion shall immediately attend thee. + +BLAND [_with contemptuous irony_]. + +Pardon me, sir, I never shall deserve it. +[_With increasing heat._] The country that forgets to reverence virtue; +That makes no difference 'twixt the sordid wretch, +Who, for reward, risks treason's penalty, +And him unfortunate, whose duteous service +Is, by mere accident, so chang'd in form, +As to assume guilt's semblance, I serve not: +Scorn to serve. I have a soldier's honour, +But 't is in union with a freeman's judgment, +And when I act, both prompt. Thus from my helm +I tear, what once I proudly thought, the badge +Of virtuous fellowship. [_Tears the cockade from his helmet._] + My sword I keep. [_Puts on his helmet._] +Would, Andre, thou hadst never put thine off! +Then hadst thou through opposers' hearts made way +To liberty, or bravely pierc'd thine own! [_Exit._ + +GENERAL. + +Rash, headstrong, maddening boy! +Had not this action past without a witness, +Duty would ask that thou shouldst rue thy folly-- +But, for the motive, be the deed forgotten. [_Exit._ + + +SCENE, _a Village._ + +_At a distance some tents. In front muskets, drums, and other + indications of soldiers' quarters._ + +_Enter MRS. BLAND and CHILDREN, attended by MELVILLE._ + +MELVILLE. + +The General's doors to you are ever open. +But why, my worthy friend, this agitation? +Our Colonel, your husband---- + +MRS. BLAND [_in tears, gives him the letter_]. + +Read, Melville. + +1st CHILD. + +Do not cry, Mama, for I'm sure if Papa said he would come home to-day he +will come yet: for he always does what he says he will. + +MRS. BLAND. + +He cannot come, dear love; they will not let him. + +2nd CHILD. + +Why, then, they told him lies. Oh, fie upon them! + +MELVILLE [_returning the letter_]. + +Fear nothing, Madam, 't is an empty threat: +A trick of policy. They dare not do it. + +MRS. BLAND. + +Alas! alas! what dares not power to do? +What art of reasoning, or what magic words, +Can still the storm of fears these lines have rais'd? +The wife's, the mother's fears? Ye innocents, +Unconscious on the brink of what a perilous +Precipice ye stand, unknowing that to-day +Ye are cast down the gulf, poor babes, ye weep +From sympathy. Children of sorrow, nurst, +Nurtur'd, midst camps and arms; unknowing man, +But as man's fell destroyer; must ye now, +To crown your piteous fate, be fatherless? +O, lead me, lead me to him! Let me kneel, +Let these, my children, kneel, till Andre, pardon'd, +Ensures to me a husband, them a father. + +MELVILLE. + +Madam, duty forbids further attendance. +I am on guard to-day. But see your son; +To him I leave your guidance. Good wishes +Prosper you! [_Exit MELVILLE._ + +_Enter BLAND._ + +MRS. BLAND. + + My Arthur, O my Arthur! + +BLAND. + +My mother! [_Embracing her._ + +MRS. BLAND. + + My son, I have been wishing +For you---- [_Bursts into tears, unable to proceed._ + +BLAND. + +But whence this grief, these tears, my mother? +Why are these little cheeks bedew'd with sorrow? + [_He kisses the children, who exclaim_, Brother, brother! +Have I done ought to cause a mother's sadness? + +MRS. BLAND. + +No, my brave boy! I oft have fear'd, but never +Sorrow'd for thee. + +BLAND. + +High praise!--Then bless me, Madam; +For I have pass'd through many a bustling scene +Since I have seen a father or a mother. + +MRS. BLAND. + +Bless thee, my boy! O bless him, bless him, Heaven! +Render him worthy to support these babes! +So soon, perhaps, all fatherless--dependent.-- + +BLAND. + +What mean'st thou, madam? Why these tears? + +MRS. BLAND. + + Thy father---- + +BLAND. + +A prisoner of war--I long have known it-- +But made so without blemish to his honour, +And soon exchang'd, returns unto his friends, +To guard these little ones, and point and lead, +To virtue and to glory. + +MRS. BLAND. + + Never, never! +His life, a sacrifice to Andre's _manes_,[7] +Must soon be offer'd. Even now, endungeon'd, +Like a vile felon, on the earth he lies, +His death expecting. Andre's execution +Gives signal for the murder of thy father-- +Andre now dies!-- + +BLAND [_despairingly_]. + + My father and my friend!! + +MRS. BLAND. + +There is but one on earth can save my husband-- +But one can pardon Andre. + +BLAND. + + Haste, my mother! +Thou wilt prevail. Take with thee in each hand +An unoffending child of him thou weep'st. +Save--save them both! This way--haste--lean on me. + [_Exeunt._ + + +SCENE, _the GENERAL'S Quarters._ + +_Enter the GENERAL and M'DONALD._ + +GENERAL. + +_Here_ have I intimation from the foe, +That still they deem the spy we have condemn'd, +Merely a captive; by the laws of arms +From death protected; and retaliation, +As they term it, threaten, if we our purpose hold. +Bland is the victim they have singled out, +Hoping his threaten'd death will Andre save. + +M'DONALD. + +If I were Bland I boldly might advise +My General how to act. Free, and in safety, +I will now suppose my counsel needless. + +_Enter an AMERICAN OFFICER._ + +OFFICER. + +Another flag hath from the foe arriv'd, +And craves admittance. + +GENERAL. + + Conduct it hither. [_Exit OFFICER._ +Let us, unwearied hear, unbias'd judge, +Whate'er against our martial court's decision, +Our enemies can bring. + +_Enter BRITISH OFFICER, conducted by the AMERICAN OFFICER._ + +GENERAL. + + You are welcome, sir. +What further says Sir Henry? + +BRITISH OFFICER. + + This from him. +He calls on you to think what weighty woes +You now are busy bringing on your country. +He bids me say, that, if your sentence reach +The prisoner's life (prisoner of arms he deems him, +And no spy), on him alone it falls not. +He bids me loud proclaim it, and declare, +If this brave officer, by cruel mockery +Of war's stern law, and justice's feign'd pretence, +Be murder'd; the sequel of our strife, bloody, +Unsparing and remorseless, _you_ will make. +Think of the many captives in our power. +Already one is mark'd; for Andre mark'd;-- +And when his death, unparallel'd in war, +The signal gives, then Colonel Bland must die. + +GENERAL. + +'T is well, sir; bear this message in return. +Sir Henry Clinton knows the laws of arms: +He is a soldier, and, I think, a brave one. +The prisoners he retains he must account for. +Perhaps the reckoning's near. I, likewise, am +A soldier; entrusted by my country. +What I shall judge most for that country's good, +That shall I do. When doubtful, I consult +My country's friends; never her enemies. +In Andre's case there are no doubts: 't is clear: +Sir Henry Clinton knows it. + +BRITISH OFFICER. + + Weigh consequences. + +GENERAL. + +In strict regard to consequence I act; +And much should doubt to call that action right, +However specious, whose apparent end +Was misery to man. That brave officer +Whose death you threaten, for himself drew not +His sword--his country's wrongs arous'd his mind; +Her good alone his aim; and if his fall +Can further fire that country to resistance, +He will, with smiles, yield up his glorious life, +And count his death a gain; and tho' Columbians +Will lament his fall, they will lament in blood. + [_GENERAL walks up the stage._ + +M'DONALD. + +Hear this! hear this, mankind! + +BRITISH OFFICER. + + Thus am I answered? + +_Enter a SERGEANT with a letter._ + +SERGEANT. + +Express from Colonel Bland. [_Delivers it and exit._ + +GENERAL. + + With your permission. [_Opens it._ + +BRITISH OFFICER. + +Your pleasure, sir. It may my mission further. + +M'DONALD. + +O, Bland! my countryman, surely I know thee! + +GENERAL. + +'T is short: I will put form aside, and read it. + +[_Reads._] "Excuse me, my Commander, for having a moment doubted your +virtue: but you love me. If you waver, let this confirm you. My wife and +children, to you and my country. Do _your_ duty." Report this to your +General. + +BRITISH OFFICER. + + I shall, sir. + [_Bows, and exit with AMERICAN OFFICER._ + +GENERAL. + +O, Bland! my countryman! [_Exit with emotion._ + +M'DONALD. + + Triumph of virtue! +Like him and thee, still be Americans. +Then, tho' all-powerful Europe league against us, +And pour in arms her legions on our shores; +Who is so dull would doubt their shameful flight? +Who doubt our safety, and our glorious triumph? + + +SCENE, _the Prison._ + +_Enter BLAND._ + +BLAND. + +Lingering, I come to crush the bud of hope +My breath has, flattering, to existence warm'd. +Hard is the task to friendship! hard to say, +To the lov'd object there remains no hope, +No consolation for thee; thou _must_ die; +The worst of deaths; no circumstance abated. + +_Enter ANDRE in his uniform, and dress'd._ + +ANDRE. + +Is there that state on earth which friendship cannot cheer? + +BLAND. + +Little _I_ bring to cheer thee, Andre. + +ANDRE. + +I understand. 'T is well. 'T will soon be past. +Yet, 't was not much I ask'd. A soldier's death. +A trifling change of form. + +BLAND. + + Of that I spoke not. +By vehemence of passion hurried on, +I pleaded for thy precious life alone; +The which denied, my indignation barr'd +All further parley. But strong solicitation +Now is urg'd to gain the wish'd-for favour. + +ANDRE. + +What is 't o'clock? + +BLAND. + + 'T is past the stroke of nine. + +ANDRE. + +Why, then, 't is almost o'er. But to be hung-- +Is there no way to escape that infamy? +What then _is_ infamy?--no matter--no matter. + +BLAND. + +Our General hath received another flag. + +ANDRE. + +Soliciting for me? + +BLAND. + + On thy behalf. + +ANDRE. + +I have been ever favour'd. + +BLAND. + + Threat'nings, now; +No more solicitations. Harsh, indeed, +The import of the message: harsh, indeed. + +ANDRE. + +I am sorry for it. Would that I were dead, +And all was well with those I leave behind. + +BLAND. + +Such a threat! Is it not enough, just heaven, +That I must lose this man? Yet there was left +One for my soul to rest on. But, to know +That the same blow deprives them both of life-- + +ANDRE. + +What mean'st thou, Bland? Surely my General +Threats not retaliation. In vengeance, +Dooms not some better man to die for me? + +BLAND. + +The best of men. + +ANDRE. + + Thou hast a father, captive-- +I dare not ask-- + +BLAND. + + That father dies for thee. + +ANDRE. + +Gracious heaven! how woes are heap'd upon me! +What! cannot one, so trifling in life's scene, +Fall, without drawing such a ponderous ruin? +Leave me, my friend, awhile--I yet have life-- +A little space of life--let me exert it +To prevent injustice:--From death to save +Thy father, thee to save from utter desolation. + +BLAND. + +What mean'st thou, Andre? + +ANDRE. + + Seek thou the messenger +Who brought this threat. I will my last entreaty +Send by him. My General, sure, will grant it. + +BLAND. + +To the last thyself! [_Exit._ + +ANDRE. + + If, at this moment, +When the pangs of death already touch me, +Firmly my mind against injustice strives, +And the last impulse to my vital powers +Is given by anxious wishes to redeem +My fellowmen from pain; surely my end, +Howe'er accomplished, is not infamous. [_Exit._ + +_End of the Third Act._ + + + + +ACT IV. + + +SCENE, _the Encampment._ + +_Enter M'DONALD and BLAND._ + +BLAND. + +It doth in truth appear, that as a--spy-- +Detested word!--brave Andre must be view'd. +His sentence he confesses strictly just. +Yet sure a deed of mercy, from _thy_ hand, +Could never lead to ill. By such an act, +The stern and blood-stain'd brow of War +Would be disarm'd of half its gorgon horrors; +More humanized customs be induced; +And all the race of civilized man +Be blest in the example. Be it thy suit: +'T will well become thy character and station. + +M'DONALD. + +Trust me, young friend, I am alone the judge +Of what becomes my character and station: +And having judg'd that this young Briton's death, +Even 'though attended by thy father's murder, +Is necessary, in these times accurs'd, +When every thought of man is ting'd with blood, +I will not stir my finger to redeem them. +Nay, much I wonder, Bland, having so oft +The reasons for this necessary rigour +Enforced upon thee, thou wilt still persist +In vain solicitations. Imitate +Thy father! + +BLAND. + + My father knew not Andre. +I know his value; owe to him my life; +And, gratitude, that first, that best of virtues,-- +Without the which man sinks beneath the brute,-- +Binds me in ties indissoluble to him. + +M'DONALD. + +That man-created virtue blinds thy reason. +Man owes to man all love; when exercised, +He does no more than duty. Gratitude, +That selfish rule of action, which commands +That we our preference make of men, +Not for their worth, but that they did _us_ service, +Misleading reason, casting in the way +Of justice stumbling-blocks, cannot be virtue. + +BLAND. + +Detested sophistry!--'T was Andre sav'd me! + +M'DONALD. + +He sav'd thy life, and thou art grateful for it. +How self intrudes, delusive, on man's thoughts! +He sav'd thy life, yet strove to damn thy country; +Doom'd millions to the haughty Briton's yoke; +The best, and foremost in the cause of virtue, +To death, by sword, by prison, or the halter: +His sacrifice now stands the only bar +Between the wanton cruelties of war, +And our much-suffering soldiers: yet, when weigh'd +With gratitude, for that he sav'd _thy_ life, +These things prove gossamer, and balance air:-- +Perversion monstrous of man's moral sense! + +BLAND. + +Rather perversion monstrous of all good, +Is thy accurs'd, detestable opinion. +Cold-blooded reasoners, such as thee, would blast +All warm affection; asunder sever +Every social tie of humanized man. +Curst be thy sophisms! cunningly contriv'd +The callous coldness of thy heart to cover, +And screen thee from the brave man's detestation. + +M'DONALD. + +Boy, boy! + +BLAND. + + Thou knowest that Andre's not a spy. + +M'DONALD. + +I know him one. Thou hast acknowledg'd it. + +BLAND. + +Thou liest! + +M'DONALD. + + Shame on thy ruffian tongue! how passion +Mars thee! I pity thee! Thou canst not harm, +By words intemperate, a virtuous man. +I pity thee! for passion sometimes sways +My older frame, through former uncheck'd habit: +But when I see the havoc which it makes +In others, I can shun the snare accurst, +And nothing feel but pity. + +BLAND [_indignantly_]. + +Pity me! [_Approaches him, and speaks in an under voice._ +Thou canst be cool, yet, trust me, _passion_ sways thee. +_Fear_ does not _warm_ the blood, yet 't is a _passion_. +Hast thou no feeling? I have call'd thee liar! + +M'DONALD. + +If thou could'st make me one, I then might grieve. + +BLAND. + +Thy coolness goes to freezing: thou'rt a coward. + +M'DONALD. + +Thou knowest thou tell'st a falsehood. + +BLAND. + + Thou shalt know +None with impunity speaks thus of me. +That to rouse thy courage. [_Touches him gently, with his open hand, + in crossing him. M'DONALD looks at him unmoved._] + Dost thou not yet feel? + +M'DONALD. + +For _thee_ I feel. And tho' another's acts +Cast no dishonour on the worthy man, +I still feel for thy father. Yet, remember, +I may not, haply, ever be thus guarded; +I may not always the distinction make. +However just, between the blow intended +To provoke, and one that's meant to injure. + +BLAND. + +Hast thou no sense of honour? + +M'DONALD. + + Truly, yes: +For I am honour's votary. Honour, with me, +Is worth: 't is truth; 't is virtue; 't is a thing, +So high pre-eminent, that a boy's breath, +Or brute's, or madman's blow, can never reach it. +My honour is so much, so truly mine, +That none hath power to wound it, save myself. + +BLAND. + +I will proclaim thee through the camp a coward. + +M'DONALD. + +Think better of it! Proclaim not thine own shame. + +BLAND. + +I'll brand thee--Damnation! [_Exit._ + +M'DONALD. + + O, passion, passion! +A man who values fame, far more than life; +A brave young man; in many things a good; +Utters vile falsehood; adds injury to insult; +Striving with blood to seal such foul injustice; +And all from impulse of unbridled feeling.-- [_Pause._ +Here comes the mother of this headstrong boy, +Severely rack'd--What shall allay her torture? +For common consolation, _here_, is insult. + +_Enter MRS. BLAND and CHILDREN._ + +MRS. BLAND. + +O my good friend! + +M'DONALD [_taking her hand_]. + + I know thy cause of sorrow. +Art thou now from our Commander? + +MRS. BLAND [_drying her tears, and assuming dignity_]. + + I am. +But vain is my entreaty. All unmov'd +He hears my words, he sees my desperate sorrow. +Fain would I blame his conduct--but I cannot. +Strictly examin'd, with intent to mark +The error which so fatal proves to _me_, +My scrutiny but ends in admiration. +Thus when the prophet from the Hills of Moab, +Look'd down upon the chosen race of heaven, +With fell intent to curse; ere yet he spake, +Truth all resistless, emanation bright +From great Adonai, fill'd his froward mind, +And chang'd the curses of his heart to blessings. + +M'DONALD. + +Thou payest high praise to virtue. Whither now?-- + +MRS. BLAND. + +I still must hover round this spot until +My doom is known. + +M'DONALD. + + Then to my quarters, lady, +There shall my mate give comfort and refreshment: +One of your sex can best your sorrows soothe. [_Exeunt._ + + +SCENE, _the Prison._ + +_Enter BLAND._ + +BLAND. + +Where'er I look cold desolation meets me. +My father--Andre--and self-condemnation! +Why seek I Andre now? Am _I_ a man, +To soothe the sorrows of a suffering friend? +The weather-cock of passion! fool inebriate! +Who could with ruffian hand strive to provoke +Hoar wisdom to intemperance! who could lie! +Aye, swagger, lie, and brag!--Liar! Damnation!! +O, let me steal away and hide my head, +Nor view a man, condemn'd to harshest death, +Whose words and actions, when by mine compar'd, +Shew white as innocence, and bright as truth. +I now would shun him; but that his shorten'd +Thread of life, gives me no line to play with. +He comes, with smiles, and all the air of triumph; +While I am sinking with remorse and shame: +Yet _he_ is doom'd to death, and _I_ am free! + +_Enter ANDRE._ + +ANDRE. + +Welcome, my Bland! Cheerly, a welcome hither! +I feel assurance that my last request +Will not be slighted. Safely thy father +Shall return to thee. [_Holding out a paper._] See what employment +For a dying man. Take thou these verses; +And, after my decease, send them to her +Whose name is woven in them; whose image +Hath controul'd my destiny. Such tokens +Are rather out of date. Fashions +There are in love as in all else; they change +As variously. A gallant Knight, erewhile, +Of Coeur de Lion's day, would, dying, send +His heart home to its mistress; degenerate +Soldier I, send but some blotted paper. + +BLAND. + +If 't would not damp thy present cheerfulness, +I would require the meaning of thy words. +I ne'er till now did hear of Andre's mistress. + +ANDRE. + +Mine is a story of that common kind, +So often told, with scanty variation, +That the pall'd ear loaths the repeated tale. +Each young romancer chooses for his theme +The woes of youthful hearts, by the cold hand +Of frosty Age, arm'd with parental power, +Asunder torn. But I long since have ceas'd +To mourn; well satisfied that she I love, +Happy in holy union with another, +Shares not my wayward fortunes. Nor would I +Now these tokens send, remembrance to awaken, +But that I know her happy: and the happy +Can think on misery and share it not. + +BLAND [_agitated_]. + +Some one approaches. + +ANDRE. + + Why, 't is near the time. +But tell me, Bland, say--is the manner chang'd? + +BLAND. + +I hope it--but I yet have no assurance. + +ANDRE. + +Well, well! + +HONORA [_without_]. + + I must see him. + +ANDRE. + + Whose voice was that? +My senses!--Do I dream--? [_Leans on BLAND._ + +_Enter HONORA._ + +HONORA. + + Where is he? + +ANDRE. + + 'T is she!! [_Starts from BLAND + and advances towards HONORA; she rushes into his arms._] + +HONORA. + +It is enough! He lives, and _I_ shall save him. + [_She faints in the arms of ANDRE._ + +ANDRE. + +She sinks--assist me, Bland! O, save her, save her! + [_Places her in a chair, and looks tenderly on her._ +Yet, why should she awake from that sweet sleep! +Why should she open her eyes--[_Wildly._]--to see me hung! +What does she here? Stand off--[_Tenderly._]--and let her die. +How pale she looks! how worn that tender frame!-- +She has known sorrow! Who could injure her? + +BLAND. + +She revives--Andre--soft, bend her forward. + [_ANDRE kneels and supports her._ + +HONORA. + +Andre--! + +ANDRE. + + Lov'd excellence! + +HONORA. + + Yes, it is Andre! [_Rises and looks at him._ +No more deceived by visionary forms, +By him supported-- [_Leans on him._ + +ANDRE. + + Why is this? +Thou dost look pale, Honora--sick and wan-- +Languid thy fainting limbs-- + +HONORA. + + All will be well. +But was it kind to leave me as thou didst--? +So rashly to desert thy vow-link'd wife?-- + +ANDRE. + +When made another's both by vows and laws-- + +HONORA [_quitting his support_]. + +What meanest thou? + +ANDRE. + + Didst thou not marry him? + +HONORA. + +Marry! + +ANDRE. + + Didst thou not give thy hand away +From me? + +HONORA. + + O, never, never! + +ANDRE. + + Not married? + +HONORA. + +To none but thee, and but in will to thee. + +ANDRE. + +O blind, blind wretch!--Thy father told me---- + +HONORA. + +Thou wast deceived. They hurried me away, +Spreading false rumours to remove thy love-- +[_Tenderly._] Thou didst too soon believe them. + +ANDRE. + + Thy father-- +How could I but believe Honora's father? +And he did tell me so. I reverenced age, +Yet knew, age was not virtue. I believed +His snowy locks, and yet they did deceive me! +I have destroy'd myself and thee!--Alas! +Ill-fated maid! why didst thou not forget me? +Hast thou rude seas and hostile shores explor'd +For this? To see my death? Witness my shame? + +HONORA. + +I come to bless thee, Andre; and shall do it. +I bear such offers from thy kind Commander, +As must prevail to save thee. Thus the daughter +May repair the ills her cruel sire inflicted. +My father, dying, gave me cause to think +That arts were us'd to drive thee from thy home; +But what those arts I knew not. An heiress left, +Of years mature, with power and liberty, +I straight resolv'd to seek thee o'er the seas. +A long-known friend who came to join her lord, +Yielded protection and lov'd fellowship.-- +Indeed, when I did hear of thy estate +It almost kill'd me:--I was weak before-- + +ANDRE. + +'T is I have murder'd thee!-- + +HONORA. + + All shall be well. +Thy General heard of me, and instant form'd +The plan of this my visit. I am strong, +Compar'd with what I was. Hope strengthens me; +Nay, even solicitude supports me now; +And when thou shalt be safe, _thou_ wilt support me. + +ANDRE. + +Support thee!--O heaven! What!--And must I die? +Die!--and leave her _thus_--suffering--unprotected!-- + +_Enter MELVILLE and GUARD._ + +MELVILLE. + +I am sorry that my duty should require +Service, at which my heart revolts; but, sir, +Our soldiers wait in arms. All is prepar'd---- + +HONORA. + +To death!--Impossible! Has my delay, +Then, murder'd him?--A momentary respite-- + +MELVILLE. + +Lady, I have no power. + +BLAND. + + Melville, my friend, +This lady bears dispatches of high import, +Touching this business:--should they arrive too late---- + +HONORA. + +For pity's sake, and heaven's, conduct me to him; +And wait the issue of our conference. +Oh, 't would be murder of the blackest dye, +Sin execrable, not to break thy orders-- +Inhuman, thou art not. + +MELVILLE. + + Lady, thou say'st true; +For rather would I lose my rank in arms, +And stand cashier'd for lack of discipline, +Than, gain 'mongst military men all praise, +Wanting the touch of sweet humanity. + +HONORA. + +Thou grantest my request? + +MELVILLE. + + Lady, I do. +Retire! [_SOLDIERS go out._ + +BLAND. + +I know not what excuse, to martial men, +Thou canst advance for this; but to thy heart +Thou wilt need none, good Melville. + +ANDRE. + + O, Honora! + +HONORA. + +Cheer up, I feel assur'd. Hope wings my flight, +To bring thee tidings of much joy to come. + [_Exit HONORA, with BLAND and MELVILLE._ + +ANDRE. + +Eternal blessings on thee, matchless woman!-- +If death now comes, he finds the veriest coward +That e'er he dealt withal. I cannot think +Of dying. Void of fortitude, each thought +Clings to the world--the world that holds Honora! + [_Exit._ + +_End of the Fourth Act._ + + + + +ACT V. + + +SCENE, _the Encampment._ + +_Enter BLAND._ + +BLAND. + +Suspense--uncertainty--man's bane and solace! +How racking now to me! My mother comes. +Forgive me, O my father! if in this war, +This wasting conflict of my wildering passions, +Memory of thee holds here a second place! +M'Donald comes with her. I would not meet him: +Yet I will do it. Summon up some courage-- +Confess my fault, and gain, if not _his_ love, +At least the approbation of _my_ judgment. + +_Enter MRS. BLAND and CHILDREN with M'DONALD._ + +BLAND. + +Say, madam, is there no change of counsel, +Or new determination? + +MRS. BLAND. + + _Nought new_, my son. +The tale of misery is told unheard. +The widow's and the orphans' sighs +Fly up, unnoted by the eye of man, +And mingle, undistinguish'd, with the winds. +My friend [_To M'DONALD._], attend thy duties. I must away. + +2nd CHILD. + +You need not cry, Mama, the General will do it, I am sure; for I saw him +cry. He turn'd away his head from you, but I saw it. + +MRS. BLAND. + +Poor thing! come let us home and weep. Alas! +I can no more, for war hath made men rocks. + [_Exeunt MRS. BLAND and CHILDREN._ + +BLAND. + +Colonel, I used thee ill this morning. + +M'DONALD. + + No! +Thyself thou used'st most vilely, I remember. + +BLAND. + +Myself sustained the injury, most true; +But the intent of what I said and did +Was ill to thee alone: I'm sorry for it. +Seest thou these blushes? They proceed from warmth +As honest as the heart of man e'er felt;-- +But not with shame unmingled, while I force +This tongue, debased, to own, it slander'd thee, +And utter'd--I could curse it--utter'd falsehood. +Howe'er misled by passion, still my mind +Retains that sense of honest rectitude +Which makes the memory of an evil deed +A troublesome companion. I was wrong. + +M'DONALD. + +Why, now this glads me; for thou _now_ art right. +Oh, may thy tongue, henceforward, utter nought +But Truth's sweet precepts, in fair Virtue's cause! +Give me thy hand. [_Takes his hand._] Ne'er may it grasp a sword +But in defense of justice. + +BLAND. + + Yet, erewhile, +A few short hours scarce past, when this vile hand +Attempted on _thee_ insult; and was raised +Against thy honour; ready to be raised +Against thy life. If this my deep remorse-- + +M'DONALD. + +No more, no more. 'T is past. Remember it +But as thou would'st the action of another, +By thy enlighten'd judgment much condemn'd; +And serving as a beacon in the storms +Thy passions yet may raise. Remorse is vice: +Guard thee against its influence debasing. +Say to thyself, "I am not what I was; +I am not _now_ the instrument of vice; +I'm changed; I am a man; Virtue's firm friend; +Sever'd for ever from my former self; +No link, but in remembrance salutary." + +BLAND. + +[How[8] all men tower above me! + +M'DONALD. + + Nay, not so. +Above what once thou wast, some few do rise; +None above what thou art. + +BLAND. + +It shall be so. + +M'DONALD. + + It is so. + +BLAND. + + Then to prove it. +For I must yet a trial undergo, +That will require a consciousness of virtue. [_Exit._ + +M'DONALD. + +Oh, what a temper doth in man reside! +How capable of yet unthought perfection!] [_Exit._ + + +SCENE, _the GENERAL'S Quarters._ + +_Enter GENERAL and SEWARD._ + +GENERAL. + +Ask her, my friend, to send by thee her pacquets. + [_Exit SEWARD._ +Oh, what keen struggles must I undergo! +Unbless'd estate! to have the power to pardon; +The court's stern sentence to remit;--give life;-- +Feel the strong wish to use such blessed power; +Yet know that circumstances strong as fate +Forbid to obey the impulse. Oh, I feel +That man should never shed the blood of man! + +_Enter SEWARD._ + +SEWARD. + +Nought can the lovely suitor satisfy, +But conference with thee, and much I fear +Refusal would cause madness. + +GENERAL. + + Yet to admit, +To hear, be tortur'd, and refuse at last-- + +SEWARD. + +Sure never man such spectacle of sorrow +Saw before. Motionless the rough-hewn soldiers +Silent view her, or walk aside and weep. + +GENERAL [_after a pause_]. + +Admit her. [_SEWARD goes out._] Oh, for the art, the precious art, +To reconcile the sufferer to his sorrows! + +[_HONORA rushes in, and throws herself wildly on her knees before him; + he endeavours to raise her._ + +HONORA. + +Nay, nay, here is my place, or here, or lower, +Unless thou grant'st his life. All forms away! +Thus will I clasp thy knees, thus cling to thee.-- +I am his wife--'tis I have ruin'd him-- +Oh, save him! Give him to me! Let us cross +The mighty seas, far, far--ne'er to offend again.-- + [_The GENERAL turns away, and hides his eyes with his hand._ + +_Enter SEWARD and an OFFICER._ + +GENERAL. + +Seward, support her--my heart is torn in twain. + + [_HONORA as if exhausted, suffers herself to be raised, and leans on + SEWARD._ + +OFFICER. + +This moment, sir, a messenger arrived +With well confirm'd and mournful information, +That gallant Hastings, by the lawless scouts +Of Britain taken, after cruel mockery +With shew of trial and condemnation, +On the next tree was hung. + +HONORA [_wildly_]. + + Oh, it is false! + +GENERAL. + +Why, why, my country, did I hesitate? [_Exit._ + + [_HONORA sinks, faints, and is borne off by SEWARD and OFFICER._ + + +SCENE, _the Prison._ + +_ANDRE meeting BLAND._ + +ANDRE. + +How speeds Honora? [_Pause._] Art thou silent, Bland? +Why, then I know my task. The mind of man, +If not by vice debas'd, debilitated, +Or by disease of body quite unton'd, +Hath o'er its thoughts a power--energy divine! +Of fortitude the source and every virtue-- +A godlike power, which e'en o'er circumstance +Its sov'reignty exerts. Now, from my thoughts, +Honora! Yet she is left alone--expos'd-- + +BLAND. + +O, Andre, spurn me, strike me to the earth; +For what a wretch am I, in Andre's mind, +That he can think he leaves his love alone, +And I retaining life! + +ANDRE. + + Forgive me, Bland, +My thoughts glanc'd not on thee. Imagination +Pictur'd only, then, her orphan state, helpless; +Her weak and grief-exhausted frame. Alas! +This blow will kill her! + +BLAND [_kneeling_]. + + Here do I myself +Devote, my fortune consecrate, to thee, +To thy remembrance, and Honora's service!-- + +ANDRE. + +Enough! Let me not see her more--nor think of her-- +Farewell! farewell, sweet image! Now for death. + +BLAND. + +Yet that you shouldst the felon's fate fulfill-- +Damnation! my blood boils. Indignation +Makes the current of my life course wildly +Through its round, and maddens each emotion. + +ANDRE. + +Come, come, it matters not. + +BLAND. + + I do remember, +When a boy, at school, in our allotted tasks, +We, by our puny acts, strove to portray +The giant thoughts of Otway. I was Pierre.-- +O, thou art Pierre's reality! a soldier, +On whose manly brow sits fortitude enamour'd! +A Mars, abhorring vice, yet doom'd to die +A death of infamy; thy corse expos'd +To vulgar gaze--halter'd--distorted--Oh!! + [_Pauses, and then adds in a low, hollow voice._ +Pierre had a friend to save him from such shame-- +And so hast thou. + +ANDRE. + + No more, as thou dost love me. + +BLAND. + +I have a sword, and arm, that never fail'd me. + +ANDRE. + +Bland, such an act would justly thee involve, +And leave that helpless one thou sworest to guard, +Expos'd to every ill. Oh! think not of it. + +BLAND. + +If thou wilt not my aid--take it thyself. + [_Draws and offers his sword._ + +ANDRE. + +No, men will say that cowardice did urge me. +In my mind's weakness, I did wish to shun +That mode of death which error represented +Infamous: Now let me rise superior; +And with a fortitude too true to start +From mere appearances, shew your country, +That she, in me, destroys a man who might +Have liv'd to virtue. + +BLAND [_sheathing his sword_]. + + I will not think more of it; +I was again the sport of erring passion. + +ANDRE. + +Go thou and guide Honora from this spot. + +HONORA [_entering_]. + +Who shall oppose his wife? I will have way! +They, cruel, would have kept me from thee, Andre. +Say, am I not thy wife? _Wilt_ thou deny me? +Indeed I am not dress'd in bridal trim. +But I have travel'd far:--rough was the road-- +Rugged and rough--that must excuse my dress. +[_Seeing ANDRE'S distress._] Thou art not glad to see me. + +ANDRE. + + Break my heart! + +HONORA. + +Indeed, I feel not much in spirits. I wept but now. + +_Enter MELVILLE and GUARD._ + +BLAND [_to MELVILLE_]. + +Say nothing. + +ANDRE. + + I am ready. + +HONORA [_seeing the GUARD_]. + + Are _they_ here? +_Here_ again!--The _same_--but they shall not harm me-- +I am with _thee_, my Andre--I am safe-- +And _thou_ art safe with me. Is it not so? + [_Clinging to him._ + +_Enter MRS. BLAND._ + +MRS. BLAND. + +Where is this lovely victim? + +BLAND. + + Thanks, my mother. + +MRS. BLAND. + +M'Donald sent me hither. My woes are past. +Thy father, by the foe releas'd, already +Is in safety. This be forgotten now; +And every thought be turn'd to this sad scene. +Come, lady, home with me. + +HONORA. + + Go home with thee? +Art thou my Andre's mother? We will home +And rest, for thou art weary--very weary. + [_Leans on MRS. BLAND._ + +[_ANDRE retires to the GUARD, and goes off with them, looking on her to + the last, and with an action of extreme tenderness takes leave of + her. MELVILLE and BLAND accompany him._ + +HONORA. + +Now we will go. Come, love! Where is he? +All gone!--I do remember--I awake-- +They have him. Murder! Help! Oh, save him! save him! + + [_HONORA attempts to follow, but falls. MRS. BLAND kneels to assist + her. Scene closes._ + + +SCENE, _the Encampment._ + +_Procession to the execution of ANDRE. First enter Pioneers--Detachment + of Infantry--Military Band of Music--Infantry. The Music having + passed off, enter ANDRE between MELVILLE and AMERICAN OFFICER; they + sorrowful, he cheerfully conversing as he passes over the stage._ + +ANDRE. + +It may in me be merely prejudice, +The effect of young-opinion deep engraved +Upon the tender mind by care parental; +But I must think your country has mistook +Her interests. Believe me, but for this I should +Not willingly have drawn a sword against her. + [_They bow their heads in silence._ +Opinion must, nay ought, to sway our actions; +Therefore-- + +_Having crossed the stage, he goes out as still conversing with them. + Another detachment of Infantry, with muffled and craped drums, close + the procession: as soon as they are off--_ + +_Scene draws and discovers the distant view of the Encampment._ + +_Procession enters in same order as before, proceeds up the stage, and + goes off on the opposite side._ + +_Enter M'DONALD, leading BLAND, who looks wildly back._ + +BLAND. + +I dare not _thee_ resist. Yet why, O, why +Thus hurry me away--?-- + +M'DONALD. + + Would'st thou behold---- + +BLAND. + +Oh, name it not! + +M'DONALD. + + Or would'st thou, by thy looks +And gestures wild, o'erthrow that manly calmness +Which, or assum'd or felt, so well becomes thy friend? + +BLAND. + +What means that cannon's sound? + +M'DONALD [_after a pause_]. + + Signal of death +Appointed. Andre, thy friend, is now no more! + +BLAND. + +Farewell, farewell, brave spirit! O, let my countrymen, +Henceforward, when the cruelties of war +Arise in their remembrance; when their ready +Speech would pour forth torrents in their foe's dispraise, +Think on this act accurst, and lock complaint in silence. + [_BLAND throws himself on the earth._ + +M'DONALD. + +Such are the dictates of the heart, not head. +Oh, may the children of Columbia still +Be taught by every teacher of mankind, +Each circumstance of calculative gain, +Or wounded pride, which prompted our oppressors: +May every child be taught to lisp the tale: +And may, in times to come, no foreign force, +No European influence, tempt to misstate, +Or awe the tongue of eloquence to silence. +Still may our children's children deep abhor +The motives, doubly deep detest the actors; +Ever remembering, that the race who plan'd, +Who acquiesced, or did the deeds abhor'd, +Has pass'd from off the earth; and, in its stead, +Stand men who challenge love or detestation +But from their proper, individual deeds. +Never let memory of the sire's offence +Descend upon the son. + +_Curtain drops._ + +FOOTNOTES: + +[6] See p. 557. + +[7] Spirit of the dead; shade. + +[8] Insert the lines which were substituted after the first night for the +lines here put in brackets. They are given in the Preface, page 509. + + + + +TRANSCRIBERS' NOTES + +Variable hyphenation of god(-)like has been preserved as in the original. + +Inconsistent inconclusion of acute accent on ANDRE as in the original. + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Andre, by William Dunlap + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ANDRE *** + +***** This file should be named 29229.txt or 29229.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/9/2/2/29229/ + +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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