For gales propitious; that his eager arms
May clasp his wife, may bless his little ones.
O, bow the tide of joy makes my heart bound,
Glowing with high and ardent expectation!
(Enter two Children.)
First Child. Here we are, Mamma, up, and dress'd already.
Mrs. Bland. And why were ye so early?
First Child. Why, did not you tell us that Papa was to be home to-day?
Mrs. Bland. I said, perhaps.
Second Child. (Disappointed.) Perhaps!
First Child. I don't like perhaps's.
Second 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.
Second Child. O, 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." "Mamma, 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!
First 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.
Second 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 Head-quarters, in passing, delivered this.
Second Child. Papa 's coming home to-day, John.
Mrs. Bland. What fears assail me! O, I did not want
A letter now!
(She reads in great agitation, exclaiming, while her eyes are fixed on the paper:)
My husband! doomed to die! Retaliation!
(She looks forward with wildness, consternation, and horror.)
To die, if André dies! He dies to-day!
My husband to be murdered! And to-day!
To-day, if André dies! Retaliation!
O curst contrivance! Madness relieve me!
Burst, burst, my brain! Yet—André is not dead;
My husband lives. (Looks at the letter.) "One man has power."
I fly to save the father of my children!
END OF THE SECOND ACT.
ACT THIRD.
Scene, the General's quarters. The General and Bland come forward.}}
General. (Papers in his hand.) Captain, you are noted here with honorable
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 honor—
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 show 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 aught;
Call all to mind—and cancel all—but grant
My one request—mine, and humanity's.
