Gen. Prescot. Allen?
Col. Allen. Yes, Allen.
Gen. Prescot. Are you that Allen, that Colonel Allen (as they call him) that dar'd to take Ticonderoga?
Col. Allen. The same—the very man.
Gen. Prescot. Then rebels you are, and as such I shall treat you, for daring to oppose Lord Paramount's troops, and the laws of the land.
Col. Allen. Prisoners we are, 'tis true—but we despise the name of a rebel—With more propriety that name is applicable to your master—'tis he who attempts to destroy the laws of the land, not us—we mean to support them, and defend our property against Paramount's and parliamentary tyranny.
Gen. Prescot. To answer you were a poorness of spirit I despise; when rebels dare accuse, power that replies, forgets to punish; I am not to argue that point with you: And let me tell you, sir, whoever you are, it now ill becomes you thus to talk—You're my prisoner—your life is in my hands, and you shall suffer immediately—Guards! take them away.
Col. Allen. Cruel insult!—pardon these brave men!—what they have done has been by my orders—I am the only guilty person (if guilt there be), let me alone suffer for them all. [Opening his breast.] Here! take your revenge—Why do you hesitate?—Will you not strike a breast that ne'er will flinch from your pointed bayonet?
Gen. Prescot. Provoke me not—Remember you're my prisoners.
Col. Allen. Our souls are free!—Strike, cowards, strike!—I scorn to beg my life.