The Bride of Fort Edward by Bacon, Delia, 1811-1859
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A word from our supporters: File extension XLT | _1st Sol_. Well, if it cheered you, 'twas a good dream most certainly, though, yet--the dream-books might not tell you so. Will you take this glass a moment? _2nd Sol_. What is it? _1st Sol_. That white house by the orchard, in the door--do you see nothing? _2nd Sol_. Yes, a figure, certainly;--yes, now it moves. I had thought those houses were deserted,--it is time they were I think, for all the protection we can give them. How long shall we maintain this post, think you, with such a handful? _1st Sol_. Till the preparations below are complete, I trust so at least, for we have watchers in these woods, no doubt, who would speedily report our absence. _2nd Sol_. Well, if we all see yonder sun go down, 'tis more than I count on. _1st Sol_. A chance if we do--a chance if we do. Will the hour come when this infant nation shall forget her bloody baptism?--the holy name of truth and freedom, that with our hearts' blood we seal upon her in these days of fear? _2nd Sol_. Ay, that hour may come. _1st Sol_. Then, with tears, and _blood_ if need be, shall she learn it anew; and not in vain shall the bones of the martyrs moulder in her peopled vales. For human nature, in her loftiest mood, was this beautiful land of old built, and for ages hid. Here--her cradle-dreams behind her flung; here, on the height of ages past, her solemn eye down their long vistas turned, in a new and nobler life she shall arise here. Ah, who knows but that the book of History may show us at last on its long-marred page--_Man_ himself,--no longer the partial and deformed developments of his nature, which each successive age hath left as if in mockery of its ideal,--but, man himself, the creature of thought,--the high, calm, majestic being, that of old stood unshrinking beneath his Maker's gaze. Even, as first he woke amid the gardens of the East, in this far western clime at last he shall smile again,--a perfect thing. _2nd Sol_. In your earnestness, you do not mark these strange sounds, Edward. Listen. (_He grasps his sword_.) _3d Sol_. We are surrounded! Fly. The Indians are upon us. Fly. _4th Sol_. God! They are butchering them above there, do not stand here! _2nd Sol_. Resistance is vain. Hear those shrieks! There is death in them. Resistance is vain. _1st Sol_. Flight is vain. Look yonder! Francis,--the dark hour hath come! _2nd Sol_. Is it so? Mother and sister I shall see no more. brandishing their knives, come rushing down the road, uttering short, fierce yells. Others from below, bringing back the fugitives_.) _1st Sol_. We shall die together. God of Truth and Freedom, unto thee our youthful spirits trust we. * * * * *DIALOGUE II.SCENE. _The deserted house--the chamber--Helen by the table--her head bowed and motionless. She rises slowly from her drooping posture_. |



