_Maj. Andre._ If we can gain the fort we all things gain, The country round must at our mercy lie; Then may our shipping sail to Albany, Disbark the troops that march for Saratoga, Who, taking thence the route to Lake Champlain, May soon reduce the forts, and in a month Open a new acquaintance with the north, Communicated free to Canada.-- Another great advantage we shall gain: By being masters then of Hudson's river, We shall cut off all intercourse and passage Between the eastern and the southern states, Which I conceive will be of consequence Toward the speedy ending of the war. _Sir Henry._ And so you say that we can buy the fort; Then happy I--my fame and fortune sure; This service will be of such eminence That Britain never can requite Sir Henry. _Maj. Andre._ I do report that you can buy the fort, For well I know the man I have to deal with; For just ten thousand guineas The troops, the fort, and Arnold are your own. And to this man, altho' he be a rascal, You must consider we are obligated. He quits his friends, his honour, and his country, The fame of all his great and brilliant actions, And the encomiums both of France and Spain, Perhaps all Europe, Britain not excepted, Sold for ten thousand guineas and to serve us. _Sir Henry._ And obligated we confess ourselves. This West Point fort--for this a long campaign I spent along the shores of Hudson's river, And failed at last with loss of Stony Point, The works, the stores, and twice three hundred soldiers, The prime of all my pack;--yes, powerful gold, I own thy aid in this extremity. Tho' Britain be the greatest in the world In ships and men with genius for the sea, Yet cannot her stout navy take this fort By open force with all its weight of cannon. It stands upon a craggy eminence, All fenced around with towers and battlements, The works of mighty nature. To these subjoined the nicest aids of art-- Glacis and bastions, flanks and counter scarps, Horn works and moat, half moons and covert way, Trenches and mines, tenaille and battery, With guns of every size and every bore, And such a host of desperadoes there, Who to the last drop of their blood would hold it, That none but devils, I presume, can take it. Beside, in sailing up the Hudson river, When from this fort you're yet a full mile distant, You turn a point at whose extremity So high the mountains swell above the flood That in a moment all your sails are lifeless; The southern breezes die that blew with vigor, And there you lie at mercy of the fort, Your ships raked fore and aft and ruin around you. But all these difficulties cease if Arnold Betray the place, as you would fain assure me. Now tell me, friend, the manner, how and when You did entice this champion from his duty.