_Arnold._ The danger is trifling. With a passport from me, you may go anywhere in these colonies. _Maj. Andre._ Sir, I thank you. It may be of service indeed. _Arnold._ I will write it immediately. There, sir; and here is the packet. I will not detain you, because I know the business requires dispatch. You will, however, sup with me, and take a glass of wine before you go. _Maj. Andre._ I shall hardly have time; however, I will wait half an hour. _Arnold._ Walk with me into this other apartment; we soldiers do not stand upon ceremony. But how do you carry these papers so as to conceal them in case you meet with any over-curious persons? _Maj. Andre._ I have an expedient. I can carry them in the foot of my boot. Do you see how snug they lie? [_Putting them on_ _Arnold._ Aye, faith, that was well thought of; but do not put the passport in your boot. _Maj. Andre._ No, no. That goes into my pocket. SCENE II.--_An ancient stone building in the Dutch taste. Three officers_, VINCENT, AMBROSE, ASMITH. VINCENT _and_ ASMITH _entering_. _Am._ Well are we met in these sequestered wilds; Whence come ye, brothers, at so late an hour? _Vin._ From scouring all the country up and down, To seize, if fortune please, illicit traders, Who are so bold and unscrupulous grown That oft in open day, as well as night, They bear large cargoes of provision down To yonder ships that still infest our river. How I detest these underhanded scoundrels, Who, hungry as the grave for British gold, Feed the vile foe that lurks within our harbours. _Am._ Gods! Can they be so base,--but there are they Who sell their country for a mess of pottage,-- A servile, scheming race whose god is gain, Who for a little gold would stab their fathers And plunder life from her who gave them life. These are not true Americans. They are A spurious race--scum, dregs, and bastards all. They are not true Americans, I say. _As._ They cannot be, they help toward our ruin. But, gentlemen, I'll tell you what I think; We have so many lurking foes within, And such a potent enemy without, That I almost despair, I must confess, That ever we shall rend these thirteen States From persevering Britain, and compel Acknowledgment of independence here. _Vin._ Say not so. The rights of humanity, 'tis these we fight for, And not to carry ruin round the globe. Appearances are so much in our favour That he who doubts that this event shall be, Must be as blind as he whose useless orbs Have never drank the radiated light. Nay, he who doubts of this, who dares to doubt (If nature be not ----[37] to miracles And devils rule with delegated sway) Deserves not nor is worthy to enjoy The paradise we look for.