Oh, dry the glist'ning tear That dews that martial cheek, Thy loving children hear, In them thy comfort seek. With sympathetic care Their arms around thee creep, For oh, they cannot bear To see their father weep! (Enter MABEL) SOLO—MABEL Dear father, why leave your bed At this untimely hour, When happy daylight is dead, And darksome dangers low'r? See, heav'n has lit her lamp, The midnight hour is past, And the chilly night-air is damp, And the dews are falling fast! Dear father, why leave your bed When happy daylight is dead? GIRLS: Oh, dry the glist'ning tear, etc. (FREDERIC enters) MABEL: Oh, Frederic, cannot you, in the calm excellence of your wisdom, reconcile it with your conscience to say something that will relieve my father's sorrow? FREDERIC: I will try, dear Mabel. But why does he sit, night after night, in this draughty old ruin? GENERAL: Why do I sit here? To escape from the pirates' clutches, I described myself as an orphan; and, heaven help me, I am no orphan! I come here to humble myself before the tombs of my ancestors, and to implore their pardon for having brought dishonour on the family escutcheon. FREDERIC: But you forget, sir, you only bought the property a year ago, and the stucco on your baronial castle is scarcely dry. GENERAL: Frederic, in this chapel are ancestors: you cannot deny that. With the estate, I bought the chapel and its contents. I don't know whose ancestors they were, but I know whose ancestors they are, and I shudder to think that their descendant by purchase (if I may so describe myself) should have brought disgrace upon what, I have no doubt, was an unstained escutcheon. FREDERIC: Be comforted. Had you not acted as you did, these reckless men would assuredly have called in the nearest clergyman, and have married your large family on the spot. GENERAL: I thank you for your proffered solace, but it is unavailing. I assure you, Frederic, that such is the anguish and remorse I feel at the abominable falsehood by which I escaped these easily deluded pirates, that I would go to their simple-minded chief this very night and confess all, did I not fear that the consequences would be most disastrous to myself. At what time does your expedition march against these scoundrels? FREDERIC: At eleven, and before midnight I hope to have atoned