University of Virginia Library

Scene 4.

—Major André's Tent, open in front: he has an order book in his hand.
Corporal Thompson
comes in and says
Major, a pair of as pretty country girls
As ever one set eyes on, are along,
And want to see your honour: shall I say
Your honour is engaged?

André,
aside.
Engaged? ay, once
I might have said so; but that day's gone by.—
By all means, Corporal, bring them: double luck!
A pretty couple truly; well, my girls,—

Enter Mary Arnold and her maid: he starts to see her.
André.
My beauty! what? it seems a thousand years
Since I set eyes on thee: come in, my beauty!
By what glad chance is it we meet again?

Mary.
My brother Benedict has sent me, John,—

André.
How? Benedict,—he hates us, hang the rebel!

Mary.
Pity him, John; in truth he hates us not,
He bade me tell you that he loves you well,
And all is changed with him, and we may meet
As freely and as gladly as of yore;
Here is his letter.

André.
Stay,—private and secret,—
Then you know nothing of this note, my pet.

Mary.
No, John,—for he looked stern and would not tell me,—
But Rachel here coming along with me
Has told me something strange she over-heard,—

(André meanwhile is reading the letter—and Corporal Thompson speaking with Rachel.)
André.
So;—he is changed indeed; more luck for us:
He bids me call and meet him in two hours
With you, and in civilian dress;—as it were
Your cousin, or your lover, if you will,
An any dare to ask you.

Mary.
But, dear John,
So loved, so long betrothed, tell me the truth;
On what strange errand are we bound, and why
This secrecy, this silence, this disguise.

André.
Would it be like a soldier's honour, Mary,
To tell another man's confided secret?

Mary.
Nay, then, I cannot ask it; yet I fear,—
My heart misgave me at his strange wild eyes,
He will not, cannot, dare not harm thee, dearest?

André.
Fear nothing, darling: we will go together,—
You are my guardian angel, and my strength
Let it suffice for both—
But wait awhile,
It is so long since you and I looked love,
I cannot spare those glances yet, my beauty.
So, we shall soon be married? Blush again,—
You look so pretty: bid yon maid of yours
Go for a walk with Corporal Thompson there,
They seem already to have had much to say,—
And stay with me awhile, my pretty one—

Mary.
O John—I dare not say.—No! Major André,—
It were too sweet and perilous a joy
To stop one moment longer,—fare thee well:
I and my maid must leave at once: that letter
Tells all my brother's mind; I know not aught:
Farewell,—no more—we meet at Benedict's.

(Exit.)
André.
Gone! like a flash of joy and love and beauty!
Well, well; fortune of war: look at this life,
What a continual shift of scenes it is,
Sunshine and storm and good and evil mingled:
And here's a sudden change in that strange man
My would-be brother both in law and arms:
What can it mean?—That he has been disgraced,
Is deep in debt, and hates George Washington,
All this he tells me straight; and more, he writes
That for a good round sum, say forty thousand,
He, their last brigadier, and commandant
Of their stronghold on the Hudson at Westpoint,
Will give it up to Clinton with all stores
And guns and arms and garrison complete,
An easy netful, prisoners of war!
This is too good to be true; here, Corporal Thompson,
I'm going on private business to New York
As a civilian, not in uniform:
No one need know it. By the way, Corporal,
Did those red lips you seemed so taken with
Tell you upon what possible errand came
Her mistress to my quarters.

Corporal.
Never a word:
We did but guess your honour's liking to her.

André.
Not a bad guess.—I'm gone for half an hour:
Bring me those clothes for change outside the lines.

(Exit.)
Corporal.
As if I couldn't guess more truths than one;
As if that little vixen didn't guess,
As if she didn't whisper all she guessed:
Well,—since the Major is no friend of mine
(I had been sergeant but he keeps me servant)
Let him look out: if money's to be got
I'll try to touch some too; master and man
Poor Richard calls them kin!—ay and he says
Forewarned, forearmed: Should General Washington
Hear from me of my Major and his friend,
I'd get a bag o' guineas for my news.

(Exit.)