CHRISTINE. At length the weary night has pa.s.sed away, and day dawns, but brings no joy or comfort to my aching heart. Alas! alas! Christine, where are all the bright visions thy fond fancy painted? where is that content and love which gleamed through the cas.e.m.e.nt of our cottage, when my dear father smiled on his child, and entwined around her his protecting arms: when the false Lenox, too, with honeyed lips, and tones soft as zephyrs, vow'd eternal love? Let me not think of them, or I shall go mad. Oh, what a contrast! pent up in a vile prison, and in disguise! condemned to die, and perishing unknown and unprotected. On the one side, my grave yawns for me; and on the other, a false lover, and a cruel father, drive me to despair. My brain is on fire! [_Hurries about with rapid strides. Music loud and violent._] Ha! what is this?

[_Tears the miniature from around her neck._] Lenox, these are thy features! thy mild looks beam hope and joy upon me. [_Kisses it._] Could such a face be false? Away with it! even now he weds another. [_Throws the miniature indignantly from her._] So, 'tis gone, and I am left alone in darkness and despair. [_She stands transfixed with grief--m.u.f.fled drum rolls--she starts._] Ha! they come for me! Be firm, my heart!

_Enter an OFFICER and a file of SOLDIERS._

OFFICER. Young man, your hour has arrived; the detachment waits without to receive you.

CHRISTINE. [_Faintly._] I am ready.

OFFICER. Can I serve you in any manner? Is there no letter--no remembrance that you would wish sent to father or friend?

CHRISTINE. Oh, forbear!

SOLDIER. [_Picking up the miniature._] See, sir, here is a miniature.

OFFICER. [_Examining it._] By Heavens, they are the features of Captain Lenox! How came you by this? What! a thief too? 'Tis well your career is cut short.

CHRISTINE. Oh no, no! Give it me, I implore you; 'tis mine.

OFFICER. I shall restore it to the rightful owner. Come, we wait.

CHRISTINE. Lead on. A few fleeting moments, and all my troubles will be at an end.

[_Exeunt._

SCENE III. _Before the Tent._

_Enter GENERAL, SOLDIERS, &c., with papers._

GENERAL. He has not confessed who set him on?

OFFICER. He has not, but admits the crime.

GENERAL. [_Returning papers._] 'Tis well--see him executed according to the sentence. Hard and imperious duty, which, at once, shuts out hope and mercy!

[_Exit GENERAL._

OFFICER. Now to seek for Lenox, and restore to him his miniature.

[_Exit._

SCENE IV. _The Camp, as in Act I, Scene III; the stage is thrown open, drums roll, and the procession enters for the execution of CHRISTINE; she is in the centre, between the two detachments; her coat is off, and the stock unloosened from her neck--her step is firm, until she reaches the tent of LENOX, when she clasps her hands and hangs down her head in despair. Procession makes the circuit of the stage with slow steps, and when opposite the tent she kneels; an OFFICER places the bandage over her eyes, and gives a sign to a detachment of four to advance; they step forward, and level their muskets at her; at the moment, LENOX rushes from the tent with the miniature in his hand and strikes up their guns._

LENOX. Hold! for your lives! [_Rushes down to CHRISTINE, and tears the bandage from her eyes._] 'Tis she! 'tis she! 'tis my own, my beloved Christine!

[_Holds her in his arms; she faints._

2ND OFFICER. What means this?

LENOX. Stand off, ye cruel executioners, would you destroy a woman?

OFFICER. A woman? Heavens! how did this happen?

_Enter GENERAL, ADELA, LAROLE, SOLDIERS, &c._

LENOX. Support her, Adela, support my dear Christine!

[_ADELA a.s.sists._

CHRISTINE. [_Recovering._] Where am I? [_Sees LENOX and ADELA._] Hide me, save me from that horrid sight!

LENOX. Do you not know me, dear Christine?

CHRISTINE. Traitor, begone! let me die at once! Is she not your bride?

LENOX. No, by Heavens, no! 'tis my early friend, my dear companion.

Could you doubt my love?

CHRISTINE. Not married? not your betrothed? O Lenox, are you then faithful?

LENOX. Could Christine doubt my vows?

CHRISTINE. I see it all--I have been deceived. Pardon me, dear Lenox; but driven to despair by your supposed perfidy, I enlisted, and rushed on my fate--which in a moment (horrid thought!) would have terminated.

But you are true, and I am happy.

[_Embrace._

LAROLE. Parbleu! it is a littel voman vidout de petticoat. Suppose she take a me von prisonier, O quell disgrace!

_Enter JASPER, JERRY and PEASANTS._

JASPER. Where is she? where is my daughter?

CHRISTINE. My father? I dare not look upon him.

JASPER. Come to my arms, dear wanderer. Could you leave your poor old father thus? You've nearly broke my heart, Christine.

CHRISTINE. My sufferings have been equally severe; but do you pardon your child?

JASPER. I do--I do! and further prove my love, by making you happy. Take her, Lenox, she is yours; and never let father attempt to force his child into a marriage which her heart abhors.

JERRY. Well, I vow, Miss Crissy, you look very pretty in pantaloons, and make a fine soger; but after all, I'm glad to have escaped a wife who wears the breeches before marriage--so I consent that you shall have the infantry ossifer, because I can't help it; and so I'll marry Patty, the weaver's daughter, though she can't crack a bottle nor bring down a buck.

GENERAL. All things have terminated happily. Our arms have been triumphant, and our gallant soldiers rewarded with the approbation of their country. Love has intwined a wreath for your brows, Lenox, and domestic peace and happiness await you; and when old age draws on apace, may you remember the PLAINS OF CHIPPEWA, and feel towards Britain as freemen should feel towards all the world: "_Enemies in war--in peace, friends._"

_Finis._