University of Virginia Library

ACT V.

The lines near York Town. Washington and Staff, &c.
John Adams.
The lion is in your toils at last then, General.
After his raid upon the Carolines
And through Virginia, Greene, has hunted him,
And Morgan driven him hard and hemmed him in
To this peninsula between two rivers,
The York and the James; he has no chance of escape;
For Count De Grasse blockades him from the sea,
And Rochambeau pushes him on the left,
Your veteran levies close upon his right,
The country up in arms is crowded round him,
Our parallels and trenches block him in,
The cannons battering him on every side,—
He must surrender.

Washington.
Yes, comrade and statesman,
My brother in the council and the field,
The Lord Cornwallis with seven thousand men,
Surrounded by our forces and shut up
Helplessly here in York Town, must surrender.
All day, all night, our murderous batteries
Have shattered his defences, and he must
Either be butchered there, or lower his flag.
The God of Christian battles is no Moloch:
The less of carnage in a victory
The more of glory. Could he but surrender,
He should have honourable terms: his ships
Lie out at sea beyond De Grasse's fleet;
Would he were safe on board them, homeward bound,
Leaving us free and independent!—Schuyler,
Go up to York Town with a flag of truce
And say that in America's great name
And for the cause of just humanity,
Washington offers terms; the Lord Cornwallis
In token of submission yields his sword;
All other officers and men retain
Their arms and colours,—cased and not unfurled—
Save a few standards left for trophy here,—
They leave their guns and stores, but for all else
They may march out paroled, with honours of war.

La Fayette.
Are not these terms, forgive me, General,
Too easy for a foe so crushed and fallen?

Washington.
Nay, noble friend! because he is so crushed
It well becomes us to deal generously
And gently with him: more than this, dear Marquis,
I cannot wish to trample down in shame
The honour of my whilome country England;
Yea, could I claim disgraceful terms, I know
That not one man of all the thousands there
But would be blown to pieces where he stood
Rather than yield to terms not honourable.
An Englishman will render up his life,
But not his honour. Therefore General Schuyler,
Go with these terms to York Town.
(he goes.)
Gallant Marquis,
We owe so much to you and to your country
That I shall ask you to receive the sword
Of Lord Cornwallis; haply all the fitter
For that he once scoffed at your beardless youth,
Goliath-like with David. Take this honour.

La Fayette.
No, General Washington, the right is yours;
On your own soil a conquering patriot
You must be first in peace as first in war:
I pray your Excellency, conclude this triumph.

Washington.
Thou noble nature!—yet, one better thought;
It happened that at Charleston General Lincoln
Lately gave up his sword to Lord Cornwallis;
I trust your courteous heart discerns his right
(Since your own modesty renounces it)
To reap as thus his honourable revenge,
By standing in my stead: when all is done,
Let Lincoln for America take the sword.

Franklin.
Ever unselfish! like George Washington!
Look: General Schuyler, just as he set out,
Has met the enemy's counter flag of truce,
Asking for terms! O happy interchange,
If righteousness and peace can kiss each other,
And England and America be one
Through Washington their bond of unity!

John Adams.
Has the Chief heard how dangerously lies sick
His gallent stepson Custiss in the trenches?

Washington.
I know it, sadly; fever,—nigh unto death;
So closely sorrow cuts the heels of joy.
I came here from him straight, returning straightway;
Meanwhile his mother and our skilful friend
The good physician Craik, watch by the couch.
I trust in heaven to guide us all for the best.
See to these few last orders. Dear La Fayette,
Loved by me as a father loves his son,
When those few trophy standards are brought in
Accept a pair to take with you to France,
America's gift of honour: Rochambeau
And Count La Grasse, and noble Baron Steubel,
Let each of them receive like gifts of honour;
One stack of colours we will keep for home
To decorate our future Capitol:
The rest may England, once our foe, take back.
Bid General Lincoln, having touched the hilt
Of Lord Cornwallis's sword, sealing submission,
Restore it straightway, with due courtesy:
So would we conquer in all kindliness.
And now, friends, give me leave to say farewell:
My work in life is done, my part is played;
At last, at last, in peace I lay me down
Wearied of strife and factions: from henceforth
Like Cincinnatus, at my Sabine farm,
Treading the tranquil path that leads to Heaven,
By the Potomac, like its stream, my life
Shall flow down gently to the sleep of death.

Patrick Henry.
No, Sir! your country cannot spare you yet,
Obscurely couched on the soft lap of home;
America has still a thousand needs
You only can supply: and there be some
(As Colonel Nicol and the army in mass)
Already dream to hail you our first King,—
An you be willing.

Washington.