University of Virginia Library

ACT I.

SOPHRONIA's House.

SCENE I.

Sophronia and Wolfe.
Sophronia.
Then you resolve to leave me?

Wolfe.
Madam, I do.—
Our sage and patriot Minister on me
Has fix'd his choice, to stand prime candidate
For honour in this glorious enterprise;
Our martial King, (well pleas'd) gave his royal
Assent to that choice, and glory calls me forth.

Sophr.
Have not those British troops you've train'd to war,
Giv'n ample proof of skill and courage, in
The day of battle, and by their conduct,
Reflected honour on you their former
Chief? And Louisbourg bore dreadful witness,
To your impetuous and unbated
Fury in the siege: Why then shou'd future
Fame ingross th' attention of your soul?

Wolfe.
Those troops you're pleas'd to hint at; when they fought,
Were headed by another: Besides, it
Is too scant an honour to shine by their
Reflection, and borrow glory from those
Gallant soldiers deeds:—
At Louisbourg, I was not first in the
Command, and cannot claim the foremost rank
Of fame: Then I only took a gentle
Sip of honour's cup, but was with-held by
Destiny from draining it, which like true
Lovers kisses, (still raising new desires,)
Has let my thirsty soul in flame for more!
And being chief, I long to swallow down
Whole draughts of glory; like Philip's conq'ring
Son, I'd bathe in seas of danger, brave all
The horrors of the fight, and with eyes of
Warlike jealousy, stand on the watch for
Some advent'rous deeds, worthy of the King,
My country, and a British General.

Sophr.
Forgive, my son, a mother's fears:
I wou'd not check you in your full career
To glory, nor from my country's service
Willingly detain a brave and useful leader.—
My heart distends with secret pride, and joy
Maternal fills my bosom, whene'er I
Call you son! But oh! (sad thought!) I much fear
Th' impetuous fury of your soul, will
Greatly spur you on to wounds, and dangers,
And perhaps to death:—
Oh! think what I must then endure!—
You have already gain'd great honour;—
Be sedately brave, and cautiously
Intrepid;—repress the furious ardor
Of your mind;—be content;—and—

Wolfe.
Madam, I guess your speech;
You'd say, and stay at home.—That cannot be.
Shall I, with a dull tortoise pace, set out
In honour's path, and at the slightest touch
Of danger, like him, skrink back into my
Shell? No!—let these resemblances of men,
Who outside wear the martial garb, and seem
To look the lion in their surly port,
Yet bear within a tim'rous deer-like soul:
Let such as these, (if such there are in life)
In grov'ling sloth, receive their country's pay,
Tremble at the thought of action! and when
The foe is nam'd, start! look aghast! and grow pale!
Th' animating trumpets! th' artillery's roar!
My soldiers steady manly looks! the drums!
The fifes! and all the grand apparatus
For the war, have charms for me to rouze my
Faculties, and kindle up an ardor
In my soul, beyond what speech can paint! or
Any but a warrior feel!—
Madam I am resolv'd.

Sophr.
Since you will go, come to my arms and take
A mother's blessing.
[Embracing him.
Hear me all sufficient Heav'n! inspire, and
Guard my son: Let him not seek danger for
The sake of danger, nor feel a coward's
Pang: Oh! give him victory, and to my
Arms, again restore the darling of my age.
Now, go my son:—Deserve a Briton's name;—
With honour come;—or,—oh my fault'ring tongue!
I would say, come not at all;—and yet a
Mother's fond anxiety, would make me
Say, at any rate return.—

Wolfe.
Be pleas'd to wait with patience this event;
And during this intended siege I hope
All things will so concur together, that
I shall at last return with life and honour.

Sophr.
Oh! direful thought! in battle fell'd you may
Be trodden under foot, in the purple
Stream, flowing from the fountain of your heart:
[Weeps.
Perhaps whilst bleeding, and ebbing life but
Tardily retreats from the weak shatter'd
Mansion, you may fall a prey to some fell
Savages, who stand insulting o'er
Departing life, and add a racking pang!
(A pang!) more exquisite to manly souls,
Than glorious death cou'd e'er inflict.

[Leans on his breast, as if to faint, but recovers again.
Wolfe.
Madam, I beg you'd calm the inquietudes
Of your soul, and grieve no more at thoughts of
What may come to pass, but has no certainty:
Yet be assur'd, whate'er shall hap, I'll bring
No stain upon my family, or my
Country; what wounds I gain, shall be by me
Most honestly receiv'd, against my front
Shall ev'ry terror fly, and I will face
The hostile thundring storm of death, and if
I fall, I'll fall at least with honour.

Sophr.
At length my resolution, and a warm
Regard for Britain's welfare, seem to stand
Almost on an equality with my
Maternal fondness; and now the intestine
Conflict in my soul partly subsides:—
Oh! poignant thought of deep distress! shall I
E'er spur my son to battle, and to death!
And yet, oh! keener thought of woe! shall I
Receive a dastard to my arms! and hear
My country curse th' inglorious war he made!
Forbid it Heav'n!—avert it, oh—my son,—
Another dear embrace before we part;
[Embracing him, weeping.
Perhaps to meet no more below.—
Oh! cruel war!—oh! dear bought fame!—
Oh! wou'd'st thou court a gentler mistress than
Rough honour!—but 'tis the will of fate, and thine.
Then go;—thy King commands; thy country calls;
—Forget not thyself!—and guess the rest:

Wolfe.
You'd say return victorious;—at least come
Home with honour;—bring home no dastard looks
To me:—Your fears are just;—your caution's good;
I'll not forget myself.—When in danger
Most extreme, I'll recollect the glory
Of my King, Britannia's weal, and what should
Be to ev'ry soldier dearer than his
Life, my own honour is at stake; with this
Threefold recollection back'd, what horrid
Shape can death put on, to chill the ardor
Of my heart, or shock my steady soul?
Who would not fight in mighty George's cause,
When mothers pray, and sigh a fond applause!
Madam, Farewell,—
[Exit Wolfe.

Sopronia
sola.
Oh! 'tis hard indeed to root affection
Up in outward show, and bid a son go fight!
None but a mother knows the bitter task,
To quell the tender yearnings of a parent's
Soul, and for a son so full of manly
Fortitude, and patriotic worth!
If he returns victorious, I'm bless'd indeed!
If he falls, with him fall all my fond hopes,
And I am gloriously unhappy!—
[Exit Sophr.

SCENE II.

Sophia's Parlour.
Wolfe
solus.
Now comes the time to prove my resolution;
I'm wrapp'd in am'rous doubt, mix'd with a sweet
Perplexity! Love's fierce desires inform
My glowing soul! the wish'd for malady
With ardent tremor rolls thro' ev'ry vital part!
The sages surely have mistook,
And Heav'n ordain'd that darling sex, to rule
Superior here below: How facile to
Subdue they find our mighty boasted reason!
In ev'ry glance a soft inchantment's couch'd!
And their pretty prattling tongues are hung with
An harmonious magic!—
How potent when array'd with each killing charm,
Is all conq'ring woman!—
The downy fetters which she throws around
The heart, when first laid on scarce felt; soon prove
More hard to break than links of stubborn steel,
Be firm my heart; and let me not be drawn
Like Anthony, by fond desires, to quit
Bright honour's chace; but let me run resolv'd
The race of glory.—
Now two great passions struggle for command;
'Twixt love, and glory, I suspended stand:
Born down by beauty's blaze, my soul gives way,
Like mollient wax, in sol's refulgent ray;
At glory's call, again abdur'd I grow,
And Cupid flees before the martial glow;
Yet when return'd, I shall my charmer meet,
And lay new laurels gain'd at Sophia's feet;
Bright Sophia then shall here unrivall'd reign,
And with one smile, shall overpay my pain.

[Exit.

SCENE III.

Scene draws, and discovers Wolfe and Sophia, sitting.
Soph.
Then I find, Sir, you prefer the noise and
Danger of the battle, and fatigues of
A foreign campaign, to the quiet enjoyment
Of your friends in safety in your native
Country?

Wolfe.
Madam, you already know my sentiments;
Our Monarch, good, and gracious as he is,
In me reposes special trust; in me,
Great-Britain, and her Patriots confide;
With joy, my faithful sturdy soldiers wait
To hail me General: No sluggish thought
Shall ever harbour in my breast, to cause
Me to recede from my firm purpose.

Soph.
I think not of altering your purpose
For the war; perhaps that would be a task
Too hard:—
And yet methinks we might expect a more
Lasting pleasure than we yet have had, in
Your company, and friendship, that we might
Add more esteem and heap new favours on
The man, whose actions have rendered him so
Deserving.

Wolfe.
By honour spur'd and an emulating
Thirst for fame, to stand inroll'd 'mongst Britain's
Worthies, I re-assume the martial toil.—
Whilst all Britannia's sons, are rous'd to arms,
And burn with gen'rous ardor to revenge,
And redress their country's wrongs; shall I sit
Tamely down, and dose a life of sloth away?

[Wolfe and Sophia rising.
Soph.
Such Sir, has ever been your active course
Of life, and such your shining deeds, they spread
A blaze of glory round, that pale envy's
Self must keep a silent distance, and with
Mute indignation gnaw the galling chain.
You're scarce return'd from Louisbourg, and yet
Seem longing for another undertaking.
Has nothing charms to stay you longer here?

Wolfe
aside.]
Such charms!—the fair! the kind enquirer has!
I scarce know how to flee their magic pow'r!
[To her.]
Tho' you are unconscious of the blaze of
Charms with which you're bless'd, yet I confess their
Pow'r;— [languishing]
and in yourself alone,— [sighing]
I'd seek the
Summit of terrestrial joy: But now my
Honour is at stake; that like a rich gem
Inestimable, has ever been and
Still shall be the prime treasure of my soul:
England has many foes; I'll therefore strive
To merit more esteem by future deeds.

Soph.
Whene'er new actions shall bespeak more
Worth, and add new honours to those you have
Already gain'd, I never shall be wanting
In my just applause, nor fail to crown with
The deserv'd esteem, a man so worthy:
Your warlike deeds, and all your brave exploits,
We'll oft recount, and dwell with pleasure on
The wond'rous tale!—
Proceed as you've begun, and such rewards,
With me, and mine, (replete with friendly joy)
Your grateful country will bestow, as might
Satisfy the utmost bounds of your ambition.
[Wolfe assuming a more sprightly and pleasant air.
All my ambition, Madam, centers in
Yourself: And I esteem my honour well
Insur'd, and cannot doubt success, since while
I range the savage continent, maiden
Innocence, will plead with kneeling eloquence,
My cause with Heav'n.—
Active as the rising flame, my gladden'd
Soul transported! soars upon the wings of
Exultation, sweetly reflecting on
My future bliss!

Soph.
Your happiness I measure by the soft
Transports I enjoy: now shou'd I feel a
Sweet foretaste of mutual delight, did
Not honour rival me, (at present) in
Your esteem, and smile triumphant in the
Conquest she has made, mixing some jealous
Anxious pangs with that overflowing flood of joy,

Wolfe.
That rival mistress shortly must depart,
And you remain sole charmer of my soul.
No greater joy has fate in store! since you
Are pleas'd to give me but a distant hope!
To bid me conquer! and make my fame your
Theme! and promise me you'll smile applause on
Each praise-worthy deed!—

Sophia.
Long would I fain detain you here, and with
Persuasive kindness, strive to beguile your
Resolution for this foreign war: But
Being honour'd with the royal confidence,
And public approbation, and drawn by
Glory's animating call, I cannot
Wish you to relinquish that high claim of
Honour which fires your soul; may your guardian
Angel go forth with you to the battle;
Avert each rapid bullet as it flies;
And ward far off the mortal steel: and oh!
May you return with vict'ry crown'd, to bless
My longing eyes again.—

Wolfe.
Dear as you've ever been, this last kind speech
Makes you shine more amiable; rend'ring
You dearer to my soul, by sympathy
Of sentiment.—Madam, I take my leave:— [Embracing her tenderly.
[Embracing her a second time.

Dear! dear maid! Farewell!

Exit Wolfe, Sophia attends him to the door; looking eagerly after him.
Sophia
sola.
He's gone! [Weeps.]
and yet he seem'd as if about
To stay; and often backward cast such tender
Speaking looks of sweet distress, as if his
Soul had been upon the wing to quit its
Body, and fix its habitation here.
The thrilling eloquence so charm'd my senses,
I thought my soul about to blend with his;
And such an unwonted pungent pang he
Gave my heart at parting! as if he there
Till then had grown; and thence was dragg'd by some
Superior force!
[Exit Sophia.

SCENE IV.

Portsmouth Point, or Beach.
Enter a Land and Sea Officer meeting.
Sea Off.
Good morrow t'ye, Sir: What news is stirring?

Land Off.
News, my friend? I can tell thee such a piece
Of news, as once to hear it would make a
Gouty sinner leap for joy! a soldier
Leave his wench! a sailor leave his flip! and
All France to tremble!

Sea Off.
Then I'm sure 'tis warlike news:
Some new expedition, some siege, I hope;
For nought like that can make Britannia's sons
Of thunder leaver their wenches and their flip;
And nothing better suited to make the
Monsieurs tremble.

Land Off.
A siege it is:
Our good old King has doom'd Quebec to fail;
Pitt longs to have an ampler vengeance;
And Wolfe is nominated General:
Wolfe! at whose name the French are thunderstruck!
Th' intrepid Monckton is the second, and
The gallant Townshend third in the command:
Their presence, (as the sun gives heat and day
Light) can warm each soldier's heart for battle,
And spur an animated army on
Full speed to glory.

Sea Off.
But who's the Admiral for this design?
I want to thrash their jackets once again.

Land Off.
I hear it is the gallant Saunders, and
Holmes the second in command.

Sea Off.
Just as I wish'd:—I sail with Saunders;
He is a brave commander, and will soon
Give a convincing proof of it, on the
Frenchmen to their cost.—
I think now England has pretty well paid
Herself for the loss of St. Philip's.—

Land Off.
I think so too:—Yet between you and I,
They met no essenc'd Jack-a-Dandys there;
The brave old Blakeney and his worthy few
Of vet'ran troops, and newly landed tars,
Were fierce as lions, and fearless as Job's
War horse.

Sea Off.
There they got a sample of what they might
Expect, and since have had a full measure
Of vengeance pour'd out upon them.

Land Off.
And more shall have, or I'm mistaken.

Sea Off.
With what tumultuous joy, the burning scene
We saw! when sixscore ships, with ware-houses,
And stores were wrapp'd in one fierce British blaze,
Whilst with accustom'd shouts we frighten'd France!
Meanwhile, St. Maloes's thunder, silent as
The grave growl'd not the least defiance, as
If well pleas'd with Marlb'rough's vengeance.

Land Off.
Their troubles, fears, and losses, only then began.

Sea Off.
Right brother Officer! 'twas glorious sport!
Where princely Edward fought on hostile ground;
And where the gallant Howe, and Bligh engag'd;
(And once more bore destruction to proud France:)
To see at Edward's feet, their stubborn ramparts
Kiss the ground! their empty plunder'd royal
Stores, and magazines, in flames! and then to
Crown the scene, to see the subterraneous
Ruin rise, and all disjointed fling their
Cherbourg's costly bason in the air!

Land Off.
These were sights worth seeing!

Sea Off.
Then to sail along their coasts, with Osborne,
Gard'ner, Hawke, and Howe; to take th'Orphee and
The more dreadful Foudroyant! (changing the
Expedition of Du Quesne, to Britain's
Shore, instead of Louisbourg,) driving their
Fleets into neutral harbours locking up
Their ports, and stagnating all their trade! then
To go with Rodney, and overturn all
Their flat bottom'd war! to break their fine spun
Project of invasion, and ramm their schemes
Down their throats wrapp'd up in smoke!

Land Off.
This sport was chiefly on the element,
Where you sailors were the best actors, and
We soldiers had but little hand in it:
But we handled them a little roughly
At Senegal, and many other places
Of the torrid zone; where, with resistless
Fury, Watson, Sayer, Barrington, Marsh,
Mason, Moore, and Draper, with other bold
Commanders, swept all before them, in a
Deluge of repeated victories!

Sea Off.
And amongst the rest, Keppel in a storm
Of thunder, beat Goree to the ground.
And as if the French hadn't had loss and griefs
Enough, how bold Boscawen maul'd De Clue!
Scatt'ring his fleet, and driving some on shore,
Taking, burning, sinking, at his pleasure!
And then it was, the French ocean, by the
Hardy De la Clue commanded, tumbled
On the shore to shun Boscawen's rage, and
Was lick'd up by English flame!

Land Off.
And still to add to England's glory, and
Their shame, to seize upon Cape Breton's Isle.
Oh! hadst thou seen that siege! it wou'd have serv'd
Thee for an age to come, whilst passing round
The flowing cann, to tell thy friends the tale.
Thus wou'dst thou say, invelop'd in a cloud
Of sulph'rous smoke, which broke in thunder from
The British fleet; with British thunderbolts well
Stor'd and thro' a mortal show'r of shot, and
Shells, and leaden deaths, from cannons, mortars,
And French entrenchments sent Amberst, and Wolfe,
Sedately warm'd, and most serenely bold,
(As if their presence victory insur'd,)
With Britain's troops, plung'd into the flood, to
Ravish mighty fate! to bid destruction
Defiance! and outface the grim king of terrors!

Sea Off.
There England's troops and tars were nobly try'd;
And there the Frenchmen learnt, how terrible
We are, when rushing on in dread union,
Thirsting after fame, and eager for the battle.

Land Off.
The disposition for the siege was a
Most glorious toil: each soldier, and each
Sailor, strove t'outdo each other:—
Our cannons, mortars, cohorns, bellow'd loud
Against the place; defiance thundr'd from
The forts of France; that like mount Ætna, and
Vesuvius, in convulsive rage, both parties fought.
Full against the town, and grand fort, Amherst
Bent his fury; whilst Wolfe attack'd, and sunk,
And burnt their ships, o'erturn'd the thunder of
Their island fort, and from the base tore up
Their ramparts! battering the front before
His storm headlong into the sea! and now
'Gainst Dauphin gate, his brazen engines yawn'd,
Pregnant with destruction, Drucour, amaz'd!
For parley call'd, and gave up Louisbourg.

Sea Off.
'Twas high time to give it up; else Hardy,
And Boscawen, wou'd soon have made the place
Too hot for him, and from their double tiers
Have sent him such a surly summons, as
Wou'd have puzzled him, and nonplus'd all his
Troops e'er they could recollect themselves, to
Remit them a reply of equal weight.
But my worthy friend, you forgot, or else
Omitted one great transaction of the
Siege; the ships, the ships, the boats took.

Land Off.
Right: I had forgot indeed:
One night the fleet's boats, under the command
Of the bold Balfour, and Laforey, row'd
Into the harbour of Louisbourg, and
Amidst all the terrors of a gloomy night,
In an unfriendly port, thro' a random
Storm of death, and under cover of their
Garrison, they bravely boarded, and took
Possession of two men of war at once,
A sixty, and a seventy-four gun ship!
They burnt Le Prudent, (which stuck a ground,)
And from the harbour tow'd Le Bienfaisant
Away!

Sea Off.
We generally go through with what we
Take in hand.

Land Off.
A few words more before we part.
I wonder what possess'd the French nation
To kindle up afresh the flames of war,
Or after kindling them, still to carry
On the war, whilst Old England own'd a Pitt;
And for their terror on the land, a Wolfe,
An Amherst, and a Granby, a Johnson,
Williams, Foy, Phillips, Drummond, and Macbean;
A Frazer, Clive, Coote, a Townshend, Elliot,
And a Murray: With such a num'rous list
Besides of worthies, in the triple union
Of England, that when all fam'd Homer's boasted
Warriors are compar'd with them, they seem a
Few, each of them an equal to Hector,
And a rival to fierce Mars.

Sea Off.
And for their scourge at sea, a Hawke, a Howe,
A Saunders, a Pocock, and Boscawen;
A Gilchrist, Clements, Elliot, and Logie;
A Keppel, Rodney, Lockhart, Tyrrel, Forrest;
A Hardy, Holmes, a Langdon, and a Suckling:
With hundreds more, all hardy tars and good
Commanders brave, each of whose names wou'd sound
In a 'Frenchman's ears, like to a clap of
Thunder!
[Going off.]
We've whole fleets mann'd with brave fellows.

[Exit.
Land Off.
[Going off]
Whole reg'ments of heroes!

[Exit.

SCENE V.

Scene draws, and discovers Jack Ratlin, Ned Forecastle and Jemmy Chaunter, with several other sailors, in a drinking house.
Ned
taking up the mug, or bowl.
Come here's success to Admiral Saunders,
And Admiral Holmes, and to our own ship's crew;
They're a parcel of as good fellows as
Ever went between stem and scorn of a ship.

[Drinks.
Jack Ratl.
But now I think on't, give us that new song,
Jemmy Chaunter, that you got t'other day:
I like it Ned.

[Turning to Ned.
Ned.
Is it about fighting? If 'tis, let's have it.
[Jemmy rising.]
With all my heart, brothers.
[All rising.

Exeunt omnes, huzzaing.