WHIG. Not a point blank proof, as to my own knowledge; you're so much of a Jesuit, you have put it out of my power;--but strong circ.u.mstances by information, such as amount to a proof in the present case, sir, I can furnish you with.

TORY. Sir, you may be mistaken.

WHIG. 'Tis not possible, my informant knows you too well.

TORY. Who is your informant, sir?

WHIG. A gentleman, sir; and if you'll give yourself the trouble to walk with me, I'll soon produce him.

TORY. Another time; I cannot stay now;--'tis dinner time.

WHIG. That's the time to find him.

TORY. I cannot stay now.

WHIG. We'll call at your house then.

TORY. I dine abroad, sir.

WHIG. Be gone, you scoundrel! I'll watch your waters; 'tis time to clear the land of such infernal vermin.

[_Exeunt both different ways._

SCENE IV. _In Boston, while the Regulars were flying from Lexington._

_LORD BOSTON surrounded by his guards and a few officers._

LORD BOSTON. If Colonel Smith succeeds in his emba.s.sy, and I think there's no doubt of it, I shall have the pleasure this ev'ning, I expect, of having my friends Hanc.o.c.k and Adams's good company; I'll make each of them a present of a pair of handsome iron ruffles, and Major Provost shall provide a suitable entertainment for them in his apartment.

OFFICER. Sure they'll not be so unpolite as to refuse your Excellency's kind invitation.

LORD BOSTON. Shou'd they, Colonel Smith and Major Pitcairn have my orders to make use of all their rhetoric and the persuasive eloquence of British thunder.

_Enter a MESSENGER in haste._

MESSENGER. I bring your Excellency unwelcome tidings--

LORD BOSTON. For heaven's sake! from what quarter?

MESSENGER. From Lexington plains.

LORD BOSTON. 'Tis impossible!

MESSENGER. Too true, sir.

LORD BOSTON. Say--what is it? Speak what you know.

MESSENGER. Colonel Smith is defeated, and fast retreating.

LORD BOSTON. Good G.o.d!--What does he say? Mercy on me!

MESSENGER. They're flying before the enemy.

LORD BOSTON. Britons turn their backs before the Rebels!--The Rebels put Britons to flight?--Said you not so?

MESSENGER. They are routed, sir;--they are flying this instant;--the Provincials are numerous, and hourly gaining strength;--they have nearly surrounded our troops. A reinforcement, sir--a timely succour may save the shatter'd remnant Speedily! speedily, sir! or they're irretrievably lost!

LORD BOSTON. Good G.o.d! What does he say? Can it be possible?

MESSENGER. Lose no time, sir.

LORD BOSTON. What can I do?--Oh dear!

OFFICER. Draw off a detachment--form a brigade; prepare part of the train; send for Lord Percy; let the drums beat to arms.

LORD BOSTON. Aye, do, Captain; you know how, better than I. (_Exit OFFICER._) Did the Rebels dare to fire on the king's troops? Had they the courage? Guards, keep round me.

MESSENGER. They're like lions; they have killed many of our bravest officers and men; and if not checked instantly, will totally surround them, and make the whole prisoners. This is no time to parley, sir.

LORD BOSTON. No, indeed; what will become of me?

_Enter EARL PERCY._

EARL PERCY. Your orders, sir.

LORD BOSTON. Haste, my good Percy, immediately take command of the brigade of reinforcement, and fly to the a.s.sistance of poor Smith!--Lose no time, lest they be all cut off, and the Rebels improve their advantage, and be upon us; and G.o.d knows what quarter they'll give.--Haste, my n.o.ble Earl!--Speedily!--Speedily!--Where's my guard?

EARL PERCY. I'm gone, sir.

[_Exeunt PERCY and OFFICERS--drums beating to arms._

LORD BOSTON. What means this flutt'ring round my heart? this unusual chilness? Is it fear? No, it cannot be, it must proceed from my great anxiety, my perturbation of mind for the fate of my countrymen. A drowsiness hangs o'er my eyelids;--fain would I repose myself a short time;--but I must not;--I must wait;--I'll to the top of yon eminence,--there I shall be safer. Here I cannot stay;--there I may behold something favourable to calm this tumult in my breast.--But, alas! I fear--Guards, attend me.

[_Exeunt LORD BOSTON and GUARDS._

SCENE V. _LORD BOSTON and GUARDS on a hill in Boston, that overlooks Charlestown._

LORD BOSTON. Clouds of dust and smoke intercept my sight; I cannot see; I hear the noise of cannon--Percy's cannon--Grant him success!

OFFICER OF GUARD. Methinks, sir, I see British colours waving.

LORD BOSTON. Some ray of hope.--Have they got so near?--Captain, keep a good lookout; tell me every thing you see. My eyes are wondrous dim.

OFFICER. The two brigades have join'd--Now Admiral Tombstone bellows his lower tier on the Provincials. How does your Excellency?

LORD BOSTON. Right;--more hope still.--I'm bravely to what I was. Which way do our forces tend?