University of Virginia Library

SCENE IV.

Enter Captain Macdonald, with a party of Highlanders, and a dead body.
Macdonald.
Yonder I see an English officer,
Towards him speeds a band of savages;
He seems design'd to stand on his defence,
Too great the odds!—
Three thither haste, and to his rescue fly!
[Exeunt three Highlanders with drawn swords.
Now onward with our fallen friend.

[Exeunt omnes.
Re-enter three Highlanders, with drawn swords, and Mr. Peyton on one of their shoulders, with his fusee.
Peyton.
Soldiers, I thank you for this timely rescue:
To what officer owe I this obligation?

First Highl.
Capt. Macdonald, of Fraser's battalion,
Whose frown against the French nerves all our arms
With strength, and edges every sword, to hew
Him out the path to glory; he sent us:
We flew with pleasure to your aid, and flesh'd
Our steel in every scalper we could reach.

[An Indian yell, they all face about, and Peyton claps his fusee to his shoulder. The Indians halt.
Peyton.
Dare they not come! then bear me onward:
For ambuscade and murder only fit;
They ne'er cou'd face th' uplifted glitt'ring steel,
Nor stand the light'ning of an English eye.

[Exeunt omnes.