University of Virginia Library

SCENE I.

Hendricks, Oswald, and Chaplain.
Oswald.
Hail! noble Hendricks, this auspicious morn.

Hendricks.
To our fair arms, auspicious, let it be,
But to the foe indignant, and severe,
Like that sad day, when in Beth-horon's vale,
The Jewish Capthin, smote the Canaanite,
By Heaven's assistance, which, upon them rain'd,
Her rocky hail—

Oswald.
—Look not for miracles,
Or hand of Heaven, heroic youth, to day.
For the late world enjoying what is past,
Of supernatural display to man,
Is left to general laws; no more vouchsaf'd,
Uncommon aid, of the dividing sea,
So swift o'erwhelming the Egyptian King,
Or of that Angel, who is one night slow,
So many squadrons of the Assyrian host.

Chaplain.
I grant, sweet youth, we may not hope from Heav'n,
The sudden vengeance of red fiery wrath,
To blast the foe; but yet the Almighty reigns,
O'er every act, and enterprize of man.
To frown upon, or bless it with his smile.
He unperceiv'd, can from the unchanged course,
Of Nature's settled laws, with ease bring forth,
Events particular; with equal ease,
As when its mound, the mighty ocean pass'd,
In Noah's day, and deluged the world.
Or when an earthquake, rending the deep earth,
Took in its bosom, those that mutined,
Against their Captain, in the wilderness.
Rest then assur'd, that heavenly Providence,
In this late age, accompanies our steps,
And guides our every action, prospering them,
Or laying the expectation, and high hope, in dust.
He can give courage to the warrior's breast,
Or, if it please him, can deject the soul,
With power invisible. He has his cloud,
To wrap the starry firmament of night,
When the skill'd General steals upon the foe,
Or when he prudently, in some retreat,
Draws off the wearied troops. He has his fog,
Which providentially may form a veil,
In the sun's face, and the deep council hide.
The Almighty reigns, distributing to each,
That which we call our lot. Not one hair falls,
Of our head, to the ground, but it is numbered.
He reigns, and gives to innocence, its due reward,
But to the guilty, punishment and death.

Oswald.
Then if the guilty shall have punishment,
May we not hope, that this proud cruel foe,
Shall meet an ample share, and yield this day,
In battle vanquished. If Heav'n protect,
Distressed innocence, and injured right,
We sure may hope, that this our patriot cause,
Shall triumph finally, and scorn the rage,
Of Britain's parliament and bloody King.

Chaplain.
A firm persuasion, hath possess'd my mind,
That this fair cause, shall triumph finally;
But the complexion, of the ensuing hour,
We cannot tell. It may be fortunate,
And yet as partial, to the whole event,
It may be clouded, and deep wrought with woe.
Just so the morning of an April day,
When spring repulses the rude wintry year,
I buried of, in the descending rain;
But soon, the warm sun bursts the watry cloud,
Gives chearful noon, and bids the evening mild,
On herbs and flowers, shed only her soft dews.

Hendricks.
I am resign'd to the dispose of Heav'n;
Let whatsoever be our fate to day,
Or my particular lot. Yet I could wish,
Once more to see the Susquehanna banks,
My native rocks, and sweet resounding hills,
Where I have fondly stray'd, delightful stream,
Where I have sported, in the summer's day,
And bath'd my limbs, and angling from a rock,
Caught with my father, the too cred'lous fish,
That silvered the tide. My father lives
With aged hoary locks, the frost of years.
'Tis mine to aid his swift-declining strength,
And hold his trembling steps—

Oswald.
—Come Gentlemen,
The troops, have early snatch'd a short repast,
And now to arms, brave Arnold, leads them forth;
In his division rang'd, we scale the wall.