_Mrs. G_. Did _God_, who loves as mothers love their babes, see this I Had I been there, with my love, in the heavens, could _I_ have given up this innocent and tender child a prey to the wild Indians? No!--and legions of pitying angels waiting but my word. No,--no. _Elliston_. Had you been there,--from that far centre whence God's eye sees all, you had beheld what lies in darkness here. Forth from this fearful hour you might have seen Peace, like a river, flowing o'er the years to come; and smiles, ten thousand, thousand smiles, down the long ages brightening, sown in this day's tears. Had you been there with God's _all_-pitying eye, the pitying legions had waited your word in vain, for once, unto a sterner doom, for the world's sake he gave his Son. _Mrs. G_. Words! Look there. That mother warned me yesterday. "_Words, words! My own child's blood_,"--I _see_ it now. (_A group of Soldiers enter_.) _A. Soldier_. (_Whispering_.) Who would have thought to see tears on _his_ face; look you, Jack Richards. _Another Sol_. 'Twas his sister, hush!-- _Arnold_. Ay, ay, come hither. Look you there! Lay down your arms. Seek the royal mercy;--here it is. Your wives, your sisters, and your innocent children;--let them seek the royal shelter;--it is a safe one. See. _3d Sol_. It was just so in Jersey last winter;--made no difference which side you were. _Arnold_. Ask no reasons.--'Twas in sport may be. 'Tis but one, in many such. Shameless tyranny we have borne long, and now, for resistance, to red butchery we are given over. The sport of lawless soldiers, and savages more cruel than the fiends in hell, are we, and the gentle beings of our homes;--but, 'tis the Royal power. Lay down your arms. _Soldiers_. (_Shouting_.) _No_. _Arnold_. Nay, nay,--in its caprice some will be safe,--it may not light on you. See, here's the proclamation. (_Throwing it among them_.) Pardon for rebles. _Soldiers_. No--no. (_Shouting_.) Away with pardon!--(_Tearing the proclamation_.) To the death! Freedom for ever!