The Bride of Fort Edward | Page 3

been to the new quarters to-day. See, he's
coming this way.
_5th Sol_. And he saw Striker there, fresh from the Jerseys, come up
along with that new General there, yesterday.
_3d Sol_. General Arnold?
_5th Sol_. Ay, ay, General Arnold it is.
_6th Sol_. [Advancing.] I say, boys----
_4th Sol_. What's the matter, Will?
_6th Sol_. Do you want to know what they say below?
All. Ay, ay, what's the news?

_6th Sol_. All up there, Sirs. A gone horse!--and he that turns his coat
first, is the best fellow.
_4th Sol_. No?
_6th Sol_. And shall I tell you what else they say?
_4th Sol_. Ay.
_6th Sol_. Shall I?
All. Ay, ay. What is it?
_6th Sol_. That we are a cowardly, sneaking, good-for-nothing pack of
poltroons, here in the north. There's for you! There's what you get for
your pains, Sirs. And for the rest, General Schuyler is to be disgraced,
and old Gates is to be set over us again, and----no matter for the rest.
See here, boys. Any body coming? See here.
_3d Sol_. What has he got there?
_2nd Sol_. The Proclamation! The Proclamation! Will you be good
enough to let me see if there is not a picture there somewhere, with an
Indian and a tomahawk?
_6th Sol_. Now, Sirs, he that wants a new coat, and a pocket full of
money--
_3d Sol_. That's me fast enough.
_2nd Sol_. If he had mentioned a shirt-sleeve now, or a rim to an old
hat--
_4th Sol_. Or a bit of a crown, or so.
_6th Sol_. He that wants a new coat--get off from my toes, you
scoundrel.
All. Let's see. Let's see. Read--read.

_7th Sol_. (Spouting.) "And he that don't want his house burned over
his head, and his wife and children, or his mother and sisters, as the
case may be, butchered or eaten alive before his eyes--"
_3d Sol_. Heavens and earth! It 'ant so though, Wilson, is it?
_7th Sol_. "Is required to present himself at the said village of
Skeensborough, on or before the 20th day of August next.
Boo--boo--boo--Who but I. Given under my hand."--If it is not _it_--it
is something very like it, I can tell you, Sirs. I say, boys, the old rogue
wants his neck wrung for insulting honest soldiers in that fashion; and I
say that you--for shame, Will Willson.
_4th Sol_. Hush!--the Colonel!--Hush!
_2nd Sol_. And who is that proud-looking fellow, by his side?
_4th Sol_. Hush! General Arnold. He's a sharp one--roll it up--roll it
up.
_6th Sol_. Get out,--you are rumpling it to death.
(_Two American officers are seen close at hand, in a bend of the
ascending road; the soldiers enter the woods_.)
* * * * *

DIALOGUE III.
SCENE. The same.
_1st Officer_. I cannot conceal it from you, Sir; there is but one feeling
about it, as far as I can judge, and I had some chances in my brief
journey--
_2nd Off_. Were you at head-quarters?
_1st Off_. Yes,--and every step of this retreating army only makes it
more desperate. I never knew any thing like the mad, unreasonable
terror this army inspires. Burgoyne and his Indians!--"_Burgoyne and
the Indians_"--there is not a girl on the banks of the Connecticut that

does not expect to see them by her father's door ere day-break. Colonel
Leslie, what were those men concealing so carefully as we approached
just now?--Did you mark them?
_2nd Off_. Yes. If I am not mistaken, it was the paper we were
speaking of.
_1st Off_. Ay, ay,--I thought as much.
_2nd Off_. General Arnold, I am surprised you should do these honest
men the injustice to suppose that such an impudent, flimsy, bombastic
tirade as that same proclamation of Burgoyne's, should have a feather's
weight with any mother's son of them.
Arnold. A feather's, ay a feather's, just so; but when the scales are
turning, a feather counts too, and that is the predicament just now of
more minds than you think for, Colonel Leslie. A pretty dark horizon
around us just now, Sir,--another regiment goes off to-morrow, I hear.
Hey?
Leslie. Why, no. At least we hope not. We think we shall be able to
keep them yet, unless--that paper might work some mischief with them
perhaps, and it would be rather a fatal affair too, I mean in the way of
example.--These Green Mountain Boys----
Arnold. Colonel Leslie, Colonel Leslie, this army is melting away like a
snow-wreath. There's no denying it. Your General misses it. The news
of one brave battle would send the good blood to the fingers' ends from
ten thousand chilled hearts; no matter how fearful the odds; the better,
the better,--no matter how large the loss;--for every slain soldier, a
hundred better would stand on the