_Eust._ [_After a Pause._] I know not what to answer.--Thou hast shaken My manhood to the centre.--Follow, boy! Thy aim is honour; but the dreary road to't, Which thou must tread, does stir the father in me. 'Tis such a nice and tickle point, between The patriot and the parent, that, Heaven knows, I need a counsellor.--I'll to thy captain. With him, anon, you'll find me. [_Exit._ _La Gloire._ So! how many a lad, with a fair beginning of life, comes to an untimely conclusion!--My poor Madelon, too! she little thinks that---- _MADELON peeping in._ _Madelon._ Hist! hist! La Gloire! _La Gloire._ Eh? _Madelon._ Why, where hast thou been, La Gloire? I have been seeking you all over the town. I feared you would get into danger. Finding the Governor's gate thrown open, and all the city in confusion, I e'en ventured in to look for you. Where hast thou been, La Gloire? _La Gloire._ Been? no where--but I am going---- _Madelon._ Where, La Gloire? _La Gloire._ A--a little way with my father. Hast heard the news, Madelon? _Madelon._ Only in part. I hear the town has surrendered: and that six poor men are to be executed; and march from the town gates. But we shall then be in safety, La Gloire. Poor fellows! I would not see them go forth for the world! _La Gloire._ Poor fellows!--a hem!--Ay, poor fellows! True, Madelon; I would not have thee shocked with the sight, I confess. _Madelon._ But, pr'ythee, La Gloire, keep at home now with me. You are ever gadding. You soldiers are so wild and turbulent--How can you, La Gloire? You must be present, now, at this horrid ceremony? _La Gloire._ Why, truly, I----I must be present;--but it will be for the last time, Madelon. I take little pleasure, in it, believe me. _Madelon._ I would thou wouldst home with me! I have provided, out of thy bounty, a repast for us this evening. My father, who has ne'er stirred out these three weeks, is filled with joy for thy return;--he will sit at our table, La Gloire; he will give us his blessing, and wish us happy in marriage. Come, you shall not away, this evening, in sooth, now! _La Gloire._ I must, Madelon; I must. The throng will press, and--and I may lose somewhat of value. 'Tis seldom a soldier's pocket is heavy; but I carry all my worldly goods about me. I would fain not lose it; so e'en be mistress on't till my return. Here is a casket;--with five years' wages from my captain; three quarters' pay from my regiment; and eleven marks, plucked from the boot of a dead English corporal: 'tis my whole fortune; keep it, Madelon, for fear of accidents: and if any cross accident ever should befall me, remember, you are heir apparent to the bulk of my property. _Madelon._ But why thus particular? I would you would stay quiet with me! _La Gloire._ But for this once, Madelon; and I shall be quiet ever after.--Kiss me. So;--Adieu! _Madelon._ Adieu, La Gloire! Remember, now, at night----