Chapter XX: Act II: SCENE I. A Pavilion

Discovers the _Indian King_ and _Queen_ sitting in State, with
Guards of _Indians_, Men and Women attending: To them _Bacon_
richly dress’d, attended by _Daring_, _Fearless_ and other
Officers; he bows to the _King_ and _Queen_, who rise to receive
him_.

_King._ I am sorry, Sir, we meet upon these Terms, we who so often have embrac’d as Friends.

_Bac._ How charming is the Queen! [Aside.] War, Sir, is not my Business nor my Pleasure: Nor was I bred in Arms, my Country’s Good has forc’d me to assume a Soldier’s Life; and ‘tis with much regret that I employ the first Effects of it against my Friends: yet whilst I may--whilst this Cessation lasts, I beg we may exchange those Friendships, Sir, we have so often paid in happier Peace.

_King._ For your part, Sir, you’ve been so noble, that I repent the fatal Difference that makes us meet in Arms. Yet though I’m young, I’m sensible of Injuries; and oft have heard my Grandsire say, That we were Monarchs once of all this spacious World, till you, an unknown People, landing here, distress’d and ruin’d by destructive Storms, abusing all our charitable Hospitality, usurp’d our Right, and made your Friends your Slaves.

_Bac._ I will not justify the Ingratitude of my Forefathers, but finding here my Inheritance, I am resolv’d still to maintain it so, and by my Sword which first cut out my Portion, defend each Inch of Land, with my last drop of Blood.

_Queen._ Even his Threats have Charms that please the Heart.
[Aside.

_King._ Come, Sir, let this ungrateful Theme alone, which is better disputed in the Field.

_Queen._ Is it impossible there might be wrought an understanding betwixt my Lord and you? ‘Twas to that end I first desired this Truce, my self proposing to be Mediator, to which my Lord _Cavernio_ shall agree, could you but condescend--I know you are noble: And I have heard you say our tender Sex could never plead in vain.

_Bac._ Alas! I dare not trust your pleading, Madam: a few soft Words from such a charming Mouth would make me lay the Conqueror at your Feet, as a Sacrifice for all the Ills he has done you.

_Queen._ How strangely am I pleas’d to hear him talk. [Aside.

_King._ _Semernia_, see, the Dancers do appear;
Sir, will you take your Seat? [To _Bacon_.
[He leads the _Queen_ to a Seat, they sit and talk.

_Bac._ Curse on his Sports that interrupted me, my very Soul was hovering at my Lip, ready to have discover’d all its Secrets. But oh! I dread to tell her of my pain, and when I wou’d an awful trembling seizes me, and she can only from my dying Eyes read all the Sentiments of my captive Heart. [Sits down, the rest wait.

Enter _Indians_ that dance Anticks: after the Dance the _King_
seems in discourse with _Bacon_, the _Queen_ rises and comes
forth.

_Queen._ The more I gaze upon this _English_ Stranger, the more Confusion struggles in my Soul: Oft I have heard of Love, and oft this Gallant Man (when Peace had made him pay his idle Visits) has told a thousand Tales of dying Maids; and ever when he spoke, my panting Heart, with a prophetick Fear in Sighs reply’d, I shall fall a Victim to his Eyes.

Enter an _Indian_.

_Indian._ Sir, here’s a Messenger from the _English_ Council desires admittance to the General. [To the _King_.

_Bac._ With your Permission he may advance. [To the _King_.

Re-enter _Indian_ with _Dunce_. A Letter.

_Dun._ All Health and Happiness attend your Honour, this from the honourable Council. [Gives him a Letter.

_King._ I’ll leave you till you have dispatch’d the Messenger, and then expect your presence in the Royal Tent.

[Exeunt _King_, _Queen_, and _Indians_.

_Bac._ Lieutenant, read the Letter. [To _Daring_.

_Daring_ reads.

SIR, the necessity of what you have acted makes it pardonable, and
we could wish we had done the Country and our selves so much Justice
as to have given you that Commission you desired.--We now find it
reasonable to raise more Forces, to oppose these Insolences, which
possibly yours may be too weak to accomplish, to which end the
Council is ordered to meet this Evening, and desiring you will come
and take your place there, and be pleas’d to accept from us a
Commission to command in Chief in this War.--Therefore send those
Soldiers under your Command to their respective Houses, and haste,
Sir, to your affectionate Friends--

_Fear._ Sir, I fear the Hearts and Pen did not agree when this was writ.

_Dar._ A plague upon their shallow Politicks! Do they think to play the old Game twice with us?

_Bac._ Away, you wrong the Council, who of themselves are honourable Gentlemen; but the base coward Fear of some of them, puts the rest on tricks that suit not with their Nature.

_Dun._ Sir, ‘tis for noble ends you are sent for, and for your safety I’ll engage my Life.

_Dar._ By Heaven, and so you shall;--and pay it too with all the rest of your wise-headed Council.

_Bac._ Your Zeal is too officious now; I see no Treachery, and can fear no Danger.

_Dun._ Treachery! now Heavens forbid, are we not Christians, Sir, all Friends and Countrymen? believe me, Sir, ‘tis Honour calls you to increase your Fame, and he who would dissuade you is your Enemy.

_Dar._ Go cant, Sir, to the Rabble--for us, we know you.

_Bac._ You wrong me when you but suspect for me; let him that acts dishonourably fear. My innocence and my good Sword’s my Guard.

_Dar._ If you resolve to go, we will attend you.

_Bac._ What, go like an invader! No, _Daring_, the Invitation’s friendly, and as a Friend attended only by my menial Servants, I’ll wait upon the Council, that they may see that when I could command it, I came an humble Suppliant for their Favour.--You may return, and tell ‘em I’ll attend.

_Dun._ I kiss your Honour’s Hands-- [Goes out.

_Dar._ ‘Sdeath, will you trust the faithless Council, Sir, who have so long held you in hand with Promises, that Curse of States-men, that unlucky Vice that renders even Nobility despis’d?

_Bac._ Perhaps the Council thought me too aspiring, and would not add Wings to my ambitious Flight.

_Dar._ A pox of their considering Caps, and now they find that you can soar alone, they send for you to knip your spreading Wings. Now, by my Soul, you shall not go alone.

_Bac._ Forbear, lest I suspect you for a Mutineer; I am resolv’d to go.

_Fear._ What, and send your Army home; a pretty fetch.

_Dar._ By Heaven, we’ll not disband, not till we see how fairly you are dealt with: If you have a Commission to be General, here we are ready to receive new Orders: If not, we’ll ring them such a thundring Peal shall beat the Town about their treacherous Ears.

_Bac._ I do command you not to stir a Man, till you’re inform’d how I am treated by ‘em.--leave me, all.

[Exeunt Officers.
[While _Bacon_ reads the Letter again, to him the _Indian Queen_
with Women waiting.

_Queen._ Now while my Lord’s asleep in his Pavilion, I’ll try my Power with the General for an Accommodation of a Peace: The very dreams of War fright my soft Slumbers that us’d to be employ’d in kinder Business.

_Bac._ Ha!--the Queen--what Happiness is this presents it self which all my Industry could never gain?

_Queen._ Sir-- [Approaching him.

_Bac._ Prest with the great extremes of Joy and Fear, I trembling stand, unable to approach her.

_Queen._ I hope you will not think it Fear in me, though timorous as a Dove by nature fram’d: Nor that my Lord, whose Youth’s unskill’d in War, can either doubt his Courage, or his Forces, that makes me seek a Reconciliation on any honourable Terms of Peace.

_Bac._ Ah Madam! if you knew how absolutely you command my Fate, I fear but little Honour would be left me, since whatsoe’er you ask me I should grant.

_Queen._ Indeed I would not ask your Honour, Sir, that renders you too brave in my esteem. Nor can I think that you would part with that. No, not to save your Life.

_Bac._ I would do more to serve your least commands than part with trivial Life.

_Queen._ Bless me, Sir, how came I by such a Power?

_Bac._ The Gods and Nature gave it you in your Creation, form’d with all the Charms that ever grac’d your Sex.

_Queen._ Is’t possible? am I so beautiful?

_Bac._ As Heaven, or Angels there.

_Queen._ Supposing this, how can my Beauty make you so obliging?

_Bac._ Beauty has still a Power over great Souls, and from the moment I beheld your Eyes, my stubborn Heart melted to compliance, and from a nature rough and turbulent, grew soft and gentle as the God of Love.

_Queen._ The God of Love! what is the God of Love?

_Bac._ ‘Tis a resistless Fire, that’s kindled thus--at every [Takes her by the Hand and gazes on her. gaze we take from such fine Eyes, from such bashful Looks, and such soft Touches--it makes us sigh,--and pant as I do now, and stops the breath when e’er we speak of Pain.

_Queen._ Alas for me if this should be Love! [Aside.

_Bac._ It makes us tremble when we touch the fair one; and all the Blood runs shivering through the Veins, the Heart’s surrounded with a feeble Languishment, the Eyes are dying, and the Cheeks are pale, the Tongue is faltring, and the Body fainting.

_Queen._ Then I’m undone, and all I feel is Love. [Aside.
If Love be catching, Sir, by Looks and Touches, let us at distance
parley--or rather let me fly, for within view is too near--
[Aside.

_Bac._ Ah! she retires--displeas’d I fear with my presumptuous Love,--Oh, pardon, fairest Creature. [Kneels.

_Queen._ I’ll talk no more, our Words exchange our Souls, and every Look fades all my blooming Honour, like Sun-beams on unguarded Roses--Take all our Kingdoms --make our People Slaves, and let me fall beneath your conquering Sword: but never let me hear you talk again, or gaze upon your Eyes.-- [Goes out.

_Bac._ She loves! by Heaven, she loves! and has not Art enough to hide her Flame, though she have cruel Honour to suppress it. However, I’ll pursue her to the Banquet. [Exit.

SCENE II. The Widow _Ranter’s_ Hall.

Enter _Surelove_ fan’d by two Negroes, followed by _Hazard_.

_Sure._ This Madam _Ranter_ is so prodigious a Treater --oh! I hate a Room that smells of a great Dinner, and what’s worse, a desert of Punch and Tobacco--what! are you taking leave so soon, Cousin?

_Haz._ Yes, Madam, but ‘tis not fit I should let you know with what regret I go,--but Business will be obey’d.

_Sure._ Some Letters to dispatch to _English_ Ladies you have left behind--come, Cousin, confess.

_Haz._ I own I much admire the _English_ Beauties but never yet have put their Fetters on.

_Sure._ Never in love! oh, then you have pleasure to come.

_Haz._ Rather a Pain when there’s no Hope attends it.

_Sure._ Oh, such Diseases quickly cure themselves.

_Haz._ I do not wish to find it so; for even in Pain I find a Pleasure too.

_Sure._ You are infected then, and come abroad for Cure.

_Haz._ Rather to receive my Wounds, Madam.

_Sure._ Already, Sir,--whoe’er she be, she made good haste to conquer, we have few here boast that Dexterity.

_Haz._ What think you of _Chrisante_, Madam?

_Sure._ I must confess your Love and your Despair are there plac’d right, of which I am not fond of being made a Confident, since I am assur’d she can love none but _Friendly_. [Coldly.

_Haz._ Let her love on as long as Life shall last, let _Friendly_ take her, and the Universe, so I had my next wish-- [Sighs. Madam, it is yourself that I adore--I should not be so vain to tell you this, but that I know you have found the Secret out already from my Sighs.

_Sure._ Forbear, Sir, and know me for your Kinsman’s Wife, and no more.

_Haz._ Be scornful as you please, rail at my Passion, and refuse to hear it; yet I’ll love on, and hope in spite of you; my Flame shall be so constant and submissive, it shall compel your Heart to some return.

_Sure._ You’re very confident of your Power, I perceive; but if you chance to find yourself mistaken, say your Opinion and your Affectation were misapply’d, and not that I was cruel. [Ex. _Surelove_.

_Haz._ Whate’er denials dwell upon your Tongue, your Eyes assure me that your Heart is tender. [Goes out.

Enter the Bagpiper, playing before a great Bowl of Punch, carry’d
between two Negroes, a Highlander dancing after it; the Widow
_Ranter_ led by _Timorous_; _Chrisante_ by _Dullman_; Mrs. _Flirt_
and _Friendly_, all dancing after it; they place it on the Table.

_Dull._ This is like the noble Widow all over, i’faith.

_Tim._ Ay, ay, the Widow’s Health in a full Ladle, Major. [Drinks. --But a Pox on’t, what made that young Fellow here, that affronted us yesterday, Major? [While they drink about.

_Dull._ Some damned Sharper that would lay his Knife aboard your Widow, Cornet.

_Tim._ Zoors, if I thought so, I’d arrest him for Salt and Battery, lay him in Prison for a swinging Fine, and take no Bail.

_Dull._ Nay, had it not been before my Mistress here, Mrs. _Chrisante_, I had swinged him for his Yesterday’s Affront;--ah, my sweet Mistress _Chrisante_--if you did but know what a power you have over me--

_Chris._ Oh, you’re a great Courtier, Major.

_Dull._ Would I were any thing for your sake, Madam.

_Ran._ Thou art anything, but what thou shouldst be; prithee, Major, leave off being an old Buffoon, that is, a Lover turn’d ridiculous by Age, consider thy self a mere rouling Tun of _Nantz_,--a walking Chimney, ever smoaking with nasty Mundungus, and then thou hast a Countenance like an old worm-eaten Cheese.

_Dull._ Well, Widow, you will joke, ha, ha, ha--

_Tim._ Gad’ Zoors, she’s pure company, ha, ha--

_Dull._ No matter for my Countenance,--Col. _Downright_ likes my Estate, and is resolved to have it a match.

_Friend._ Dear Widow, take off your damned Major, for if he speak another word to _Chrisante_, I shall be put past all my patience, and fall foul upon him.

_Ran._ S’life, not for the world--Major, I bar Love-making within my Territories, ‘tis inconsistent with the Punch-Bowl, if you’l drink, do, if not, be gone.

_Tim._ Nay, Gad’s Zooks, if you enter me at the Punch-Bowl you enter me in Politicks--well, ‘tis the best Drink in Christendom for a Statesman. [They drink about, the Bagpipe playing.

_Ran._ Come, now you shall see what my High-land Valet can do.
[A _Scots_ Dance.

_Dull._ So--I see, let the World go which way it will, Widow, you are resolv’d for mirth,--but come--to the conversation of the Times.

_Ran._ The Times! why, what a Devil ails the Times? I see nothing in the Times but a Company of Coxcombs that fear without a Cause.

_Tim._ But if these Fears were laid, and _Bacon_ were hanged, I look upon _Virginia_ to be the happiest part of the World, gads zoors,--why, there’s _England_--’tis nothing to’t,--I was in _England_ about six Years ago, and was shewed the Court of Aldermen, some were nodding, some saying nothing, and others very little to purpose; but how could it be otherwise, for they had neither Bowl of Punch, Bottles of Wine or Tobacco before ‘em, to put Life and Soul into ‘em as we have here: then for the young Gentlemen--their farthest Travels is to _France_ or _Italy_, they never come hither.

_Dull._ The more’s the pity, by my troth. [Drinks.

_Tim._ Where they learn to swear Mor-blew, Mor-dee--

_Friend._ And tell you how much bigger the _Louvre_ is than _Whitehall_; buy a suit a-la-mode, get a swinging Clap of some _French_ Marquise, spend all their Money, and return just as they went.

_Dull._ For the old Fellows, their business is Usury, Extortion, and undermining young Heirs.

_Tim._ Then for young Merchants, their Exchange is the Tavern, their Ware-house the Play-house, and their Bills of Exchange Billet-Douxs, where to sup with their Wenches at the other end of the Town,--now judge you what a condition poor _England_ is in: for my part I look upon it as a lost Nation, gads zoors.

_Dull._ I have considered it, and have found a way to save all yet.

_Tim._ As how, I pray?

_Dull._ As thus: we have Men here of great Experience and Ability--now I would have as many sent into _England_, as would supply all Places and Offices, both Civil and Military, d’ye see; their young Gentry should all travel hither for breeding, and to learn the mysteries of State.

_Friend._ As for the old covetous Fellows, I would have the Tradesmen get in their Debts, break and turn Troopers.

_Tim._ And they’d be soon weary of Extortion, gad zoors.

_Dull._ Then for the young Merchants, there should be a Law made, none should go beyond _Ludgate_.

_Friend._ You have found out the only way to preserve that great Kingdom. [Drinking all this while sometimes.

_Tim._ Well, gad zoors, ‘tis a fine thing to be a good Statesman.

_Friend._ Ay, Cornet, which you had never been had you staid in Old _England_.

_Dull._ Why, Sir, we were somebody in _England_.

_Friend._ So I heard, Major.

_Dull._ You heard, Sir! what have you heard? he’s a Kidnapper that says he heard any thing of me--and so my service to you.--I’ll sue you, Sir, for spoiling my Marriage here by your Scandals with Mrs. _Chrisante_: but that shan’t do, Sir, I’ll marry her for all that, and he’s a Rascal that denies it.

_Friend._ S’death, you lye, Sir--I do.

_Tim._ Gad zoors, Sir, lye to a Privy-Counsellor, a Major of Horse! Brother, this is an Affront to our Dignities: draw and I’ll side with you. [They both draw on _Friendly_, the Ladies run off.

_Friend._ If I disdain to draw, ‘tis not that I fear your base and cowardly Force, but for the respect I bear you as Magistrates, and so I leave you. [Goes out.

_Tim._ An arrant Coward, gad zoors.

_Dull._ A mere Paultroon, and I scorn to drink in his Company.

[Exeunt, putting up their Swords.

SCENE III. A _Sevana_, or large Heath.

Enter _Whimsey_, _Whiff_, and _Boozer_, with some Soldiers arm’d.

_Whim._ Stand--stand--and hear the word of Command--do ye see yon Cops, and that Ditch that runs along Major _Dullman’s_ Plantation?

_Booz._ We do.

_Whim._ Place your Men there, and lie flat on your Bellies, and when _Bacon_ comes, (if alone) seize him, d’ye see.

_Whiff._ Observe the Command now (if alone) for we are not for blood-shed.

_Booz._ I’ll warrant you for our parts.

[Exeunt all but _Whim._ and _Whiff_.

_Whim._ Now we have ambusht our Men, let’s light our Pipes, and sit down and take an encouraging dram of the Bottle. [Pulls a Bottle of Brandy out of his Pocket--they sit.

_Whiff._ Thou art a Knave, and hast emptied half the Bottle in thy Leathern Pockets; but come, here’s young _Frightall’s_ Health.

_Whim._ What, wilt drink a Man’s Health thou’rt going to hang?

_Whiff._ ‘Tis all one for that, we’ll drink his Health first, and hang him afterwards, and thou shalt pledge me, d’ye see, and though ‘twere under the Gallows.

_Whim._ Thou’rt a Traitor for saying so, and I defy thee.

_Whiff._ Nay, since we are come out like loving Brothers to hang the General, let’s not fall out among our selves; and so here’s to you, [Drinks.] though I have no great Maw to this Business.

_Whim._ Prithee, Brother _Whiff_, do not be so villainous a Coward, for I hate a Coward.

_Whiff._ Nay, ‘tis not that--but, my _Whiff_, my _Nancy_ dreamt to night she saw me hanged.

_Whim._ ‘Twas a cowardly Dream, think no more on’t; but as Dreams are expounded by contraries, thou shalt hang the General.

_Whiff._ Ay--but he was my Friend, and I owe him at this time a hundred Pounds of Tobacco.

_Whim._ Nay, then I am sure thou’dst hang him if he were thy Brother.

_Whiff._ But hark--I think I hear the Neighing of Horses, where shall we hide our selves? for if we stay here, we shall be mawled damnably.

[Exeunt both behind a Bush, peeping.

Enter _Bacon_, _Fearless_, and 3 or 4 Footmen.

_Bac._ Let the Groom lead the Horses o’er the _Sevana_; we’ll walk it on Foot, ‘tis not a quarter of a Mile to the Town; and here the Air is cool.

_Fear._ The Breezes about this time of the Day begin to take wing, and fan refreshment to the Trees and Flowers.

_Bac._ And at these Hours how fragrant are the Groves!

_Fear._ The Country’s well, were but the people so.

_Bac._ But come, lets on-- [They pass to the Entrance.

_Whim._ There, Boys-- [The Soldiers come forth and fall on _Bacon_.

_Bac._ Hah! Ambush--

[Draws, _Fearless_ and Footmen draw, the Soldiers after a while
fighting, take _Bacon_ and _Fearless_, they having laid 3 or 4
dead.

_Whiff._ So, so, he’s taken; now we may venture out.

_Whim._ But are you sure he’s taken?

_Whiff._ Sure! can’t you believe your Eyes, come forth; I hate a Coward--Oh, Sir, have we caught your Mightiness.

_Bac._ Are you the Authors of this valiant Act? None but such villainous Cowards durst have attempted it.

_Whim._ Stop his railing Tongue.

_Whiff._ No, no, let him rail, let him rail now his Hands are ty’d, ha, ha. Why, good General _Frightall_, what, was no body able d’ye think to tame the roaring Lyon?

_Bac._ You’ll be hanged for this.

_Whim._ Come, come, away with him to the next Tree.

_Bac._ What mean you, Villains?

_Whiff._ Only to hang your Honour a little, that’s all. We’ll teach you, Sir, to serve your Country against Law.

As they go off, enter _Daring_ with Soldiers.

_Dar._ Hah--my General betray’d!--this I suspected.

[His Men come in, they fall on, release _Bacon_ and _Fearless_,
and his Man, and get Swords. _Whimsey’s_ Party put _Whim._ and
_Whiff_ before ‘em striking ‘em as they endeavour to run on this
side or that, and forcing ‘em to bear up, they are taken after
some fighting.

_Fear._ Did not the General tell you Rogues, you’d be all hang’d?

_Whiff._ Oh, _Nancy_, _Nancy_, how prophetick are thy Dreams!

_Bac._ Come, lets on--

_Dar._ S’death, what mean you, Sir?

_Bac._ As I designed--to present my self to the Council.

_Dar._ By Heavens, we’ll follow then to save you from their Treachery, ’.was this that has befallen you that I feared, which made me at a distance follow you.

_Bac._ Follow me still, but still at such a distance as your Aids may be assisting on all occasions.--_Fearless_, go back and bring your Regiment down; and _Daring_, let your Sergeant with his Party guard these Villains to the Council.

[Ex. _Bac._ _Dar._ and _Fearless_.

_Whiff._ A Pox on your Worship’s Plot.

_Whim._ A Pox of your forwardness to come out of the Hedge.

[Ex. Officers, with _Whim._ and _Whiff_.

SCENE IV. _The Council-Table_.

Enter Col. _Wellman_, Col. _Downright_, _Dullman_, _Timorous_, and
about seven or eight more seat themselves.

_Well._ You heard Mr. _Dunce’s_ opinion, Gentlemen, concerning _Bacon’s_ coming upon our Invitation. He believes he will come, but I rather think, though he be himself undaunted, yet the persuasions of his two Lieutenant-Generals, _Daring_ and _Fearless_, may prevent him--Colonel, have you order’d our Men to be in Arms?

Enter a _Soldier_.

_Down._ I have, and they’l attend further order on the _Sevana_.

_Sold._ May it please your Honours, _Bacon_ is on his way, he comes unattended by any but his Footmen, and Col. _Fearless_.

_Down._ Who is this Fellow?

_Well._ A Spy I sent to watch _Bacon’s_ Motions.

_Sold._ But there is a Company of Soldiers in Ambush on this side of the _Sevana_ to seize him as he passes by.

_Well._ That’s by no order of the Council.

_Omnes._ No, no, no order.

_Well._ Nay, ‘twere a good design if true.

_Tim._ Gad zoors, wou’d I had thought on’t for my Troop.

_Down._ I am for no unfair dealing in any extremity.

Enter _Brag_ in haste.

_Brag._ An’t please your Honours, the saddest News--an Ambush being laid for _Bacon_, they rush’d out upon him on the _Sevana_, and after some fighting took him and _Fearless_--

_Tim._ Is this your sad News--zoors, wou’d I had had a hand in’t.

_Brag._ When on a sudden, _Daring_ and his Party fell in upon us, turn’d the tide--kill’d our Men, and took Captain _Whimsey_, and Captain _Whiff_ Pris’ners; the rest run away, but _Bacon_ fought like fury.

_Tim._ A bloody Fellow!

_Down._ _Whimsey_ and _Whiff_? they deserve Death for acting without order.

_Tim._ I’m of the Colonel’s Opinion, they deserve to hang for’t.

_Dull._ Why, Brother, I thought you had wish’d that the Plot had been yours but now.

_Tim._ Ay, but the Case is alter’d since that, good Brother.

_Well._ Now he’s exasperated past all hopes of a Reconciliation.

_Dull._ You must make use of the Statesman’s Refuge, wise Dissimulation.

_Brag._ For all this, Sir, he will not believe but that you mean honourably, and no Persuasions could hinder him from coming, so he has dismiss’d all his Soldiers, and is entring the Town on foot.

_Well._ What pity ‘tis a brave Man should be guilty of an ill Action.

_Brag._ But the noise of his danger has so won the Hearts of the Mobile, that they increase his Train as he goes, and follow him in the Town like a Victor.

_Well._ Go wait his coming. [Exit _Brag_.
He grows too popular and must be humbled.

_Tim._ I was ever of your mind, Colonel.

_Well._ Ay, right or wrong--but what’s your Counsel now?

_Tim._ E’en as it used to be, I leave it to wiser Heads.

Enter _Brag_.

_Brag._ _Bacon_, Sir, is entring.

_Tim._ Gad zoors, wou’d I were safe in bed.

_Dull._ Colonel, keep in your Heat, and treat calmly with him.

_Well._ I rather wish you would all follow me, I’d meet him at the head of all his noisy Rabble, and seize him from the Rout.

_Down._ What, Men of Authority dispute with Rake-hells! ‘tis below us, Sir.

_Tim._ To stake our Lives and Fortunes against their nothing.

Enter _Bacon_, after him the Rabble with Staves and Clubs,
bringing in _Whim._ and _Whiff_ bound.

_Well._ What means this Insolence?--What, Mr. _Bacon_, do you come in Arms?

_Bac._ I’d need, Sir, come in Arms, when Men that should be honourable can have so poor Designs to take my Life.

_Well._ Thrust out his following Rabble.

_1st Rab._ We’ll not stir till we have the General safe back again.

_Bac._ Let not your Loves be too officious--but retire--

_1st Rab._ At your Command we vanish.-- [The Rabble retire.

_Bac._ I hope you’ll pardon me, if in my own defence I seized on these two Murderers.

_Down._ You did well, Sir, ‘twas by no order they acted--stand forth and hear your Sentence--in time of War we need no formal Tryals to hang Knaves that act without order.

_Whiff._ Oh, Mercy, Mercy, Colonel--’twas Parson _Dunce’s_ Plot.

_Down._ Issue out a Warrant to seize _Dunce_ immediately--you shall be carry’d to the Fort to pray.

_Whim._ Oh, good your Honour, I never pray’d in all my Life.

_Down._ From thence drawn upon a Sledge to the place of Execution--where you shall hang till you are dead--and then be cut down and--

_Whim._ Oh, hold--hold--we shall never be able to endure half this.
[Kneeling.

_Well._ I think the Offence needs not so great Punishment; their Crime, Sir, is but equal to your own, acting without Commission.

_Bac._ ‘Tis very well explained, Sir,--had I been murder’d by Commission then, the Deed had been approved, and now perhaps I am beholding to the Rabble for my Life.

_Well._ A fine Pretence to hide a popular Fault, but for this once we pardon them and you.

_Bac._ Pardon! for what? by Heaven, I scorn your Pardon, I’ve not offended Honour nor Religion.

_Well._ You have offended both in taking Arms.

_Bac._ Should I stand by and see my Country ruin’d, my King dishonour’d, and his Subjects murder’d, hear the sad Crys of Widows and of Orphans? you heard it loud, but gave no pitying care to’t, and till the War and Massacre was brought to my own door, my Flocks and Herds surprized, I bore it all with Patience. Is it unlawful to defend my self against a Thief that breaks into my Doors?

_Well._ And call you this defending of your self?

_Bac._ I call it doing of my self that right, which upon just demand the Council did refuse me; if my Ambition, as you’re pleased to call it, made me demand too much, I left my self to you.

_Well._ Perhaps we thought it did.

_Bac._ Sir, you affront my Birth--I am a Gentleman, and yet my Thoughts were humble--I would have fought under the meanest of your Parasites.

_Tim._ There’s a Bob for us, Brother. [To _Dull._

_Bac._ But still you put me off with Promises--and when compell’d to stir in my Defence I call’d none to my aid, and those that came, ‘twas their own Wrongs that urg’d them.

_Down._ ‘Tis fear’d, Sir, under this Pretence, you aim at Government.

_Bac._ I scorn to answer to so base an Accusation; the height of my Ambition is to be an honest Subject.

_Well._ An honest Rebel, Sir--

_Bac._ You know you wrong me, and ‘tis basely urg’d--but this is trifling--here are my Commissions. [Throws down Papers, _Down._ reads.

_Down._ To be General of the Forces against the _Indians_, and blank Commissions for his Friends.

_Well._ Tear them in pieces--are we to be imposed upon? Do ye come in hostile manner to compel us?

_Down._ Be not too rough, Sir, let us argue with him.

_Well._ I am resolv’d I will not.

_Tim._ Then we are all dead Men, Gudzoors! he will not give us time to say our Prayers.

_Well._ We every day expect fresh force from _England_, till then, we of our selves shall be sufficient to make defence against a sturdy Traitor.

_Bac._ Traitor! S’death, Traitor--I defy ye, but that my Honour’s yet above my Anger, I’d make you answer me that Traitor dearly. [Rises.

_Well._ Hah--am I threatned--Guards, secure the Rebel.
[Guards seize him.

_Bac._ Is this your honourable Invitation? Go--triumph in your short-liv’d Victory, the next turn shall be mine.

[Exeunt Guards with _Bac._

_A Noise of Fighting--Enter _Bacon_, _Wellman’s_ Guards beat back by the Rabble, _Bacon_ snatches a Sword from one, and keeps back the Rabble, _Tim._ gets under the Table._

_Down._ What means this Insolence?

_Rab._ We’ll have our General, and knock that Fellow’s Brains out, and hang up Colonel _Wellman_.

_All._ Ay, ay, hang up _Wellman_.
[The Rabble seize _Well._ and _Dull._ and the rest.

_Dull._ Hold, hold, Gentlemen, I was always for the General.

_Rab._ Let’s barbicu this fat Rogue.

_Bac._ Be gone, and know your distance to the Council.
[The Rabble let ‘em go.

_Well._ I’d rather perish by the meanest Hand, than owe my safety poorly thus to _Bacon_. [In Rage.

_Bac._ If you persist still in that mind I’ll leave you, and conquering make you happy ‘gainst your will.

[Ex. _Bacon_ and Rabble, hollowing a _Bacon_, a _Bacon_.

_Well._ Oh villanous Cowards! who will trust his Honour with Sycophants so base? Let us to Arms--by Heaven, I will not give my Body rest, till I’ve chastised the boldness of this Rebel.

[Exeunt _Well._ _Down._ and the rest, all but _Dull._ _Tim._ peeps
from under the Table.

_Tim._ What, is the roistering Hector gone, Brother?

_Dull._ Ay, ay, and the Devil go with him.
[Looking sadly, _Tim._ comes out.

_Tim._ Was there ever such a Bull of _Bashan_! Why, what if he should come down upon us and kill us all for Traitors.

_Dull._ I rather think the Council will hang us all for Cowards--ah--oh--a Drum--a Drum--oh. [He goes out.

_Tim._ This is the Misery of being great.
We’re sacrific’d to every turn of State. [Exit.