Act 5 — Scene I. The Sevana in sight of the Camp; the Moon rises.

Enter Friendly, Hazard and Boozer, and a Party of Men.

Friend. We are now in sight of the Tents.

Booz. Is not this a rash Attempt, Gentlemen, with so small Force to set upon Bacon’s whole Army?

Haz. Oh, they are drunk with Victory and Wine; there will be nought but revelling to night.

Friend. Would we could learn in what Quarter the Ladies are lodg’d, for we have no other business but to release them—But hark—who comes here?

Booz. Some Scouts, I fear, from the Enemy.

Enter Dull. Tim. Whim. and Whiff, creeping as in the dark.

Friend. Let’s shelter ourselves behind yonder Trees—lest we be surpriz’d.

Tim. Wou’d I were well at home-Gad zoors, if e’er you catch me a Cadeeing again, I’ll be content to be set in the fore-front of the Battle for Hawks-Meat.

Whim. Thou’rt afraid of every Bush.

Tim. Ay, and good reason too: Gad zoors, there may be Rogues hid—prithee, Major, do thou advance.

Dull. No, no, go on—no matter of Ceremony in these cases of running away. They advance.

Friend. They approach directly to us, we cannot escape them—their numbers are not great—let us advance. They come up to them.

Tim. Oh! I am annihilated.

Whiff. Some of Frightall’s Scouts, we are lost Men. They push each other foremost.

Friend. Who goes there?

Whim. Oh, they’ll give us no Quarter; ’twas long of you, Cornet, that we ran away from our Colours.

Tim. Me—’twas the Major’s Ambition here—to make himself a great Man with the Council again.

Dull. Pox o’ this Ambition, it has been the ruin of many a gallant Fellow.

Whiff. If I get home again, the height of mine shall be to top Tobacco; would I’d some Brandy.

Tim. Gads zoors, would we had, ’tis the best Armour against Fear—hum—I hear no body now—prithee advance a little.

Whim. What, before a Horse-Officer?

Friend. Stand, on your Lives—

Tim. Oh, ’tis impossible—I’m dead already.

Friend. What are ye?—speak—or I’ll shoot.

Whim. Friends to thee,—who the Devil are we Friends to?

Tim. E’en who please you, Gad zoors.

Friend. Hah—Gad zoors—who’s there, Timorous?

Tim. Hum—I know no such Scoundrel— Gets behind.

Dull. Hah—that’s Friendly’s Voice.

Friend. Right—thine’s that of Dullman—who’s with you?

Dull. Only Timorous, Whimsey and Whiff, all valiantly running away from the Arch-Rebel that took us Prisoners.

Haz. Can you inform us where the Ladies are lodg’d?

Dull. In the hither Quarter, in Daring’s Tent; you’ll know them by Lanthorns on every corner—there was never better time to surprize them—for this day Daring’s married, and there’s nothing but Dancing and Drinking.

Haz. Married! to whom?

Dull. That I ne’er enquir’d.

Friend. ’Tis to Chrisante, Friend—and the Reward of my Attempt is lost. Oh, I am mad, I’ll fight away my Life, and my Despair shall yet do greater Wonders, than even my Love could animate me to. Let’s part our Men, and beset his Tents on both sides. Friendly goes out with a Party.

Haz. Come, Gentlemen, let’s on—

Whiff. On, Sir,—we on, Sir?—

Haz. Ay, you on, Sir—to redeem the Ladies.

Whiff. Oh, Sir, I am going home for Money to redeem my Nancy.

Whim. So am I, Sir.

Tim. I thank my Stars I am a Batchelor.—Why, what a Plague is a Wife?

Haz. Will you march forward?

Dull. We have atchiev’d Honour enough already, in having made our Campaign here— Looking big.

Haz. ’Sdeath, but you shall go—put them in the front, and prick them on—if they offer to turn back, run them thro.

Tim. Oh, horrid— The Soldiers prick them on with their Swords.

Whiff. Oh, Nancy, thy Dream will yet come to pass.

Haz. Will you advance, Sir? Pricks Whiff.

Whiff. Why, so we do, Sir; the Devil’s in these fighting Fellows. Exeunt.

An Alarm at a distance.

Within. To Arms, to Arms, the Enemy’s upon us.

A Noise of Fighting, after which enters Friendly with his Party, retreating and fighting from Daring and some Soldiers, Ranter fighting like a Fury by his side, he putting her back in vain; they fight out. Re-enter Daring and Friendly all bloody. Several Soldiers enter with Flambeaux.

Dar. Now, Sir—what Injury have I ever done you, that you should use this Treachery against me?

Friend. To take advantage any way in War, was never counted Treachery—and had I murder’d thee, I had not paid thee half the Debt I owe thee.

Dar. You bleed too much to hold too long a Parley— come to my Tent, I’ll take a charitable care of thee.

Friend. I scorn thy Courtesy, who against all the Laws of Honour and of Justice, hast ravish’d innocent Ladies.

Dar. Sir, your upbraiding of my Honour shall never make me forfeit it, or esteem you less—Is there a Lady here you have a Passion for?

Friend. Yes, on a nobler score than thou darest own.

Dar. To let you see how you’re mistaken, Sir, whoe’er that Lady be whom you affect, I will resign, and give you both your Freedoms.

Friend. Why, for this Courtesy, which shews thee brave, in the next fight I’ll save thy Life to quit the Obligation.

Dar. I thank you, Sir;—come to my Tent,—and when we’ve dress’d your Wounds, and yielded up the Ladies, I’ll give you my Pass-port for your Safe-Conduct back, and tell your Friends i’th’ Town, we’ll visit them i’th’ Morning.

Friend. They’ll meet you on your way, Sir—

Dar. Come, my young Soldier, now thou’st won my Soul. Exeunt.

An Alarm beats: Enter at another Passage Boozer with all the Ladies; they pass over the Stage, while Hazard and Downright beat back a Party of Soldiers. Dull. Tim. Whim. and Whiff, prick’d on by their Party to fight, lay about them like Madmen. Bacon, Fearless and Daring come in, rescue their Men, and fight out the other Party, some falling dead. Bacon, Fearless and Daring return tired, with their Swords drawn. Enter Soldier running.

Sold. Return, Sir, where your Sword will be more useful—a Party of Indians, taking advantage of the Night, have set fire on your Tents, and borne away the Queen.

Bac. Hah, the Queen! By Heaven, this Victory shall cost them dear; come, let us fly to rescue her.

All go out.