Scene 4 — Daybreak on the 23 rd June , 1813.
Enter JAMES SECORD and his wife .
Mr. Secord . Heaven speed thee, then, dear wife. I'll try to bear
The dreadful pangs of helplessness and dread
With calm demeanour, if a bursting heart.
Mrs. Secord . Then will you taste a woman's common lot
In times of strait, while I essay man's r├┤le
Of fierce activity. We will compare
When I return. Now, fare-thee-well, my husband.
Mrs. Secord . Why do you stop me?
Sentry . Where is your pass?
You know that none may take the road without one.
Mrs. Secord . But surely I may go to milk my cow,
Yonder she is.
She's wandered in the night.
I'll drive her back again, poor thing.
She likes new pasture best, as well she may.
Sentry . Keep you your kine at home, you've land enough.
Mrs. Secord . Why, that's our land, and those our barns and sheds.
Sentry . Well, pass!
But where's your milking pail?
I guess the bunch of flowers is for the cow.
Mrs. Secord ( Gently ). You are too rough! The pinks weep dewy tears
Upon my hand to chide you. There, take them;
And let their fragrance teach you courtesy,
At least to women. You can watch me.
Sentry . Madam, suspicion blunts politeness. Pass.
I'll take your flowers, and thank you, too;
'Tis long since that I saw their fellows in
The old folks' garden.
Mrs. Secord ( aside ). Could I but get her out of sight, I'd drive
The creature round the other way, and go
My own. Pray Heaven the sentry watch me not
Too closely; his manner roused my fears.
Co' boss! co' boss. Sh! Haste thee, poor cow;
Fly from me! though never didst thou yet:
Nor should'st do now, but for the stake I play.
Sentry ( apostrophising the disappearing " enemy " ). Well, mistress, were you gentle as your face,
The creature wouldn't run you such a race.
It serves you right! The cows my Anna milks,
Come at her call, like chickens. O, sweet voice,
When shall I hear you next? Even as I pace
With measured step this hot and dusty road,
The soft June breezes take your tones, and call,
" Come, Henry, come. " Would that I could!
Would I had never joined!
But my hot blood o'ermastered my cool sense,
Nor let me see that always is not bought
Honour by arms, but often dire disgrace.
For so it is, as now I clearly see,
We let the animal within remain
Unbroke, till neither gyve nor gear will serve
To steady him, only a knock-down blow.
Had I, and others, too, within the ranks,
Haltered our coltish blood, we should have found
That hate to England, not our country's name
And weal, impelled mad Madison upon this war;
And shut the mouths of thousand higher men
Than he.
It is a lesson may I learn
So as to ne'er forget, that in the heat of words
Sparks oft are struck that should be straightway quenched
In cool reflection; not enlarged and fed
With passionate tinder, till a flame is blown
That reaches past our bonds, and leaves behind
Black, sullen stumps where once the green trees grew.
If honour's what we want, there's room enough
For that, and wild adventure, too, in the West,
At half the cost of war, in opening up
A road shall reach the great Pacific.
( A step ). Ha! Who goes there?
Enter JAMES SECORD and his wife .
Mr. Secord . Heaven speed thee, then, dear wife. I'll try to bear
The dreadful pangs of helplessness and dread
With calm demeanour, if a bursting heart.
Mrs. Secord . Then will you taste a woman's common lot
In times of strait, while I essay man's r├┤le
Of fierce activity. We will compare
When I return. Now, fare-thee-well, my husband.
Mrs. Secord . Why do you stop me?
Sentry . Where is your pass?
You know that none may take the road without one.
Mrs. Secord . But surely I may go to milk my cow,
Yonder she is.
She's wandered in the night.
I'll drive her back again, poor thing.
She likes new pasture best, as well she may.
Sentry . Keep you your kine at home, you've land enough.
Mrs. Secord . Why, that's our land, and those our barns and sheds.
Sentry . Well, pass!
But where's your milking pail?
I guess the bunch of flowers is for the cow.
Mrs. Secord ( Gently ). You are too rough! The pinks weep dewy tears
Upon my hand to chide you. There, take them;
And let their fragrance teach you courtesy,
At least to women. You can watch me.
Sentry . Madam, suspicion blunts politeness. Pass.
I'll take your flowers, and thank you, too;
'Tis long since that I saw their fellows in
The old folks' garden.
Mrs. Secord ( aside ). Could I but get her out of sight, I'd drive
The creature round the other way, and go
My own. Pray Heaven the sentry watch me not
Too closely; his manner roused my fears.
Co' boss! co' boss. Sh! Haste thee, poor cow;
Fly from me! though never didst thou yet:
Nor should'st do now, but for the stake I play.
Sentry ( apostrophising the disappearing " enemy " ). Well, mistress, were you gentle as your face,
The creature wouldn't run you such a race.
It serves you right! The cows my Anna milks,
Come at her call, like chickens. O, sweet voice,
When shall I hear you next? Even as I pace
With measured step this hot and dusty road,
The soft June breezes take your tones, and call,
" Come, Henry, come. " Would that I could!
Would I had never joined!
But my hot blood o'ermastered my cool sense,
Nor let me see that always is not bought
Honour by arms, but often dire disgrace.
For so it is, as now I clearly see,
We let the animal within remain
Unbroke, till neither gyve nor gear will serve
To steady him, only a knock-down blow.
Had I, and others, too, within the ranks,
Haltered our coltish blood, we should have found
That hate to England, not our country's name
And weal, impelled mad Madison upon this war;
And shut the mouths of thousand higher men
Than he.
It is a lesson may I learn
So as to ne'er forget, that in the heat of words
Sparks oft are struck that should be straightway quenched
In cool reflection; not enlarged and fed
With passionate tinder, till a flame is blown
That reaches past our bonds, and leaves behind
Black, sullen stumps where once the green trees grew.
If honour's what we want, there's room enough
For that, and wild adventure, too, in the West,
At half the cost of war, in opening up
A road shall reach the great Pacific.
( A step ). Ha! Who goes there?