BABY. 'Tis true, Your Exc'llency, some cankered minds Have been a daily hind'rance in our House. No measure so essential, bill so fair, But they would foul it by some cunning clause, Wrenching the needed statute from its aim By sly injection of their false opinion. But this you cannot charge to us whose hearts Are faithful to our trust; nor yet delay; For, Exc'llency, you hurry on so fast That other men wheeze after, out of breath, And haste itself, disparaged, lags behind. BROCK. Friends, pardon me, you stand not in reproof. But haste, the evil of the age in peace, Is war's auxiliary, confederate With time himself in urgent great affairs. So must we match it with the flying hours! I shall prorogue this tardy Parliament, And promptly head our forces for Detroit Meanwhile, I wish you, in advance of us, To speed unto your homes. Spread everywhere Throughout the West, broad tidings of our coming, Which, by the counter currents of reaction, Will tell against our foes and for our friends. As for the rest, such loyal men as you Need not our counsel; so, good journey both! BABY. We shall not spare our transport or ourselves. [_Enter a travel-stained_ MESSENGER.] ELLIOTT. Good-bye. BABY. Tarry a moment, Elliott! Here comes a messenger-- let's have his news. MESSENGER. It is his Excellency whom I seek. I come, sir, with despatches from the west. BROCK. Tidings I trust to strengthen all our hopes. MESSENGER. News of grave interest, this not the worst. [_Handing a letter to_ GENERAL BROCK.] BROCK. No, by my soul, for Mackinaw is ours! That vaunted fort, whose gallant capture frees Our red allies. This is important news! What of Detroit! MESSENGER. Things vary little there. Hull's soldiers scour our helpless settlements, Our aliens join them, but the loyal mass-- Sullen, yet overawed, longs for relief. BROCK. I hope to better this anon. You, sirs, [_To his aides_.] Come with me; here is matter to despatch At once to Montreal. Farewell, my friends. [_To Baby and Elliott._] BABY. We feel now what will follow this, farewell! [_Exeunt_ BABY, ELLIOTT _and_ MESSENGER.] BROCK. Now, gentlemen, prepare against our needs, That no neglect may check us at the start, Or mar our swift advance. And, for our cause, As we believe it just in sight of God, So should it triumph in the sight of man, Whose generous temper, at the first, assigns Right to the weaker side, yet coldly draws Damning conclusions from its failure. Now Betake you to your tasks with double zeal; And, meanwhile, let our joyful tidings spread! [_Exeunt._] SCENE THIRD.--THE SAME. _Enter two_ OLD MEN _of York, severally_. 1ST OLD MAN. Good morrow, friend! a fair and fitting time To take our airing, and to say farewell. 'Tis here, I think, we bid our friends God-speed, A waftage, peraventure, to their graves.