ave men, I will mourn your
fall--weep on--flow, mine eyes, and wash away their blood, till the
fountain of sorrow is dried up--but, oh! it never--never will--my
sympathetic soul shall dwell on your bosoms, and floods of tears shall
water your graves; and since all other comfort is deny'd me, deprive me
not of the only consolation left me of meditating on your virtues and
dear memories, who fell in defense of liberty and your country--ye brave
men--ye more than friends--ye martyrs to liberty!--This, this is all I
ask, till sorrow overwhelms me.--I breathe my last; and ye yourselves,
your own bright spirits, come and waft me to your peaceful abode, where
the voice of lamentation is not heard, neither shall we know any more
what it is to separate.

_Eager the patriot meets his desperate foe
With full intent to give the fatal blow;
The cause he fights for animates him high,
His wife, his children and his liberty:
For these he conquers, or more bravely dies,
And yields himself a willing sacrifice._

[_Exeunt._

ACT IV.

SCENE I. _Near Norfolk, in Virginia, on board a man-of-war, LORD
KIDNAPPER, in the state-room; a boat appears rowing towards the ship._

_SAILOR and BOATSWAIN._

SAILOR. Boatswain!

BOATSWAIN. Holla.

SAILOR. Damn my eyes, Mr. Boatswain, but here's a black flag of truce
coming on board.

BOATSWAIN. Sure enough--where are they from?

SAILOR. From hell, I suppose--for they're as black as so many devils.

BOATSWAIN. Very well--no matter--they're recruits for the Kidnapper.

SAILOR. We shall be all of a colour by and by--damn me--

BOATSWAIN. I'll go and inform his Lordship and his pair of doxies of it;
I suppose by this time they have trim'd their sails, and he's done
heaving the log.

[_Exit BOATSWAIN._

SCENE II. _Near the state-room._

BOATSWAIN. Where's his Lordship?

SERVANT. He's in the state-room.

BOATSWAIN. It's time for him to turn out; tell him I want to speak to
him.

SERVANT. I dare not do it, Boatswain; it's more than my life is worth.

BOATSWAIN. Damn your squeamish stomach, go directly, or I'll go myself.

SERVANT. For God's sake! Boatswain--

BOATSWAIN. Damn your eyes, you pimping son of a bitch, go this instant,
or I'll stick my knife in your gammons.

SERVANT. O Lord! Boatswain. [_SERVANT goes._]

BOATSWAIN [_solus_].