Fear. Oh, fly, Sir, to some place of safe retreat, for there’s no mercy to be hop’d if taken. What will you do? I know we are pursu’d, by Heaven, I will not die a shameful Death.

Bac. Oh, they’ll have pity on thy Youth and Bravery, but I’m above their Pardon. A noise is heard.

Within. This way—this way—hay halloo.

Fear. Alas, Sir, we’re undone—I’ll see which way they take. Exit.

Bac. So near! Nay, then to my last shift. Undoes the Pomel of his Sword.

Come, my good Poison, like that of Hannibal; long I have born a noble Remedy for all the Ills of Life. Takes Poison.

I have too long surviv’d my Queen and Glory, those two bright Stars that influenc’d my Life are set to all Eternity. Lies down.

Enter Fearless, runs to Bacon, and looks on his Sword.

Fear. —Hah—what have ye done?

Bac. Secur’d my self from being a publick Spectacle upon the common Theatre of Death.

Enter Daring and Soldiers.

Dar. Victory, Victory! they fly, they fly, where’s the victorious General?

Fear. Here,—taking his last Adieu.

Dar. Dying! Then wither all the Laurels on my Brows, for I shall never triumph more in War; where are the Wounds?

Fear. From his own Hand, by what he carried here, believing we had lost the Victory.

Bac. And is the Enemy put to flight, my Hero? Grasps his Neck.

Dar. All routed Horse and Foot; I plac’d an Ambush, and while they were pursuing you, my Men fell on behind, and won the day.

Bac. Thou almost makest me wish to live again, if I cou’d live now fair Semernia’s dead.—But oh—the baneful Drug is just and kind, and hastens me away—Now while you are Victors, make a Peace—with the English Council, and never let Ambition,—Love,—or Interest, make you forget, as I have done, your Duty and Allegiance—Farewel—a long Farewel— Dies embracing their Necks.

Dar. So fell the Roman Cassius, by mistake—

Enter Soldiers with Dunce, Tim. and Dullman.

Sold. An’t please your Honour, we took these Men running away.

Dar. Let ’em loose—the Wars are at an end, see where the General lies—that great-soul’d Man, no private Body e’er contain’d a nobler; and he that cou’d have conquered all America, finds only here his scanty length of Earth. Go, bear the Body to his own Pavilion— Soldiers go out with the Body.

though we are Conquerors we submit to treat, and yield upon Condition: You, Mr. Dunce, shall bear our Articles to the Council.

Dun. With Joy I will obey you.

Tim. Good General, let us be put in the Agreement.

Dar. You shall be obliged—

Ex. Dar. Dun. Dull. and Tim. as Fear. goes out a Soldier meets him.

Sold. What does your Honour intend to do with Whimsey and Whiff, who are condemn’d by a Council of War?

Enter Daring, Dullman, Tim. Fearless, and Officers.

Dar. You come too late, Gentlemen, to be put into the Articles; nor am I satisfy’d you’re worthy of it.

Dull. Why, did not you, Sir, see us lie dead in the Field?

Dar. Yes, but I see no Wound about you.

Tim. We were stun’d with being knock’d down; Gads zoors, a Man may be kill’d with the but-end of a Musquet, as soon as with the point of a Sword.

Enter Dunce.

Dun. The Council, Sir, wishes you Health and Happiness, and sends you these sign’d by their Hands— Gives Papers.

Dar. reads.

That you shall have a general Pardon for your self and Friends; that you shall have all new Commissions, and Daring to command as General; that you shall have free leave to inter your dead General in James Town. And to ratify this, we will meet you at Madam Surelove’s House, which stands between the Armies, attended only by our Officers.

The Council’s noble, and I’ll wait upon them.

Exeunt.