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 assists._ 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 disgrâce! _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.