_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_]. What the devil--keep a pimp guard here, better station the son of a bitch at the mast head, to keep a look out there, lest Admiral Hopkins be upon us. _Enter KIDNAPPER._ KIDNAPPER. What's your will, Boatswain? BOATSWAIN. I beg your Lordship's pardon [_Aside. But you can soon fetch up Leeway, and spread the water sail again._], please your honour, here's a boat full of fine recruits along side for you. KIDNAPPER. Recruits, Boatswain? you mean soldiers from Augustine, I imagine; what reg'mentals have they on? BOATSWAIN. Mourning, please your honour, and as black as our tarpawling. KIDNAPPER. Ha, ha, well well, take 'em on board, Boatswain, I'll be on deck presently. BOATSWAIN. With submission to your honour, d' ye see, [_Scratching his head._] I think we have gallows-looking dogs enough on board already--the scrapings of Newgate, and the refuse of Tyburn, and when the wind blows aft, damn 'em, they stink like polecats--but d' ye see, as your honour pleases, with submission, if it's Lord Paramount's orders, why it must be so, I suppose--but I've done my duty, d' ye see-- KIDNAPPER. Ha, ha, the work must be done, Boatswain, no matter by whom.