MESSENGER. Things vary little there.
Hull's soldiers scour our helpless settlements,
Our aliens join them, but the loyal mass—
Sullen, yet overawed, longs for relief.
BROCK. I hope to better this anon. You, sirs,
[To his aides.]
Come with me; here is matter to despatch
At once to Montreal. Farewell, my friends.
[To Baby and Elliott.]
BABY. We feel now what will follow this, farewell!
[Exeunt BABY, ELLIOTT and MESSENGER.]
BROCK. Now, gentlemen, prepare against our needs,
That no neglect may check us at the start,
Or mar our swift advance. And, for our cause,
As we believe it just in sight of God,
So should it triumph in the sight of man,
Whose generous temper, at the first, assigns
Right to the weaker side, yet coldly draws
Damning conclusions from its failure. Now
Betake you to your tasks with double zeal;
And, meanwhile, let our joyful tidings spread!
[Exeunt.]