Arnold. Pasquin!
Arnold. Tell the sentries upon duty to-night that I expect a gentleman of my acquaintance here about ten o'clock. When he comes to the outer gate, bid one of them conduct him to my apartment.
Pasquin. Your honour shall be obeyed.
[Exit
Arnold (solus). Peace to this gloomy grove that sees me acting
What open daylight would disdain to own.
Ye wood, be witness of my dark designs,
And shade me o'er, ye lofty eminences;
Tremendous gloom, encompass me around
In clouds that wing from Greenland's foggy caves,
Plutonian darkness on your pinions bring,
Conceal my base intent from human view,
And be the daylight still a stranger to it.
Storm on, ye wind, the tempest that ye make
In the broad regions of the troubled ether
Is quiet to the tumult of my soul!
Departing honour,—take thy last adieu,
'Tis this night's deed that stamps me for a villain.
Who comes there?
[Enter Pasquin
Pasquin. Sir, there is a traveller just alighted at Sergeant Jones's quarters, who desires to know whether he can have a little private conference with you, and asked me whether you were alone or no.
Arnold. A traveller? How is he dressed?
Pasquin. He has on a plain suit of blue clothes, a cocked beaver hat and draw boots. He rides a common bay horse, and by his general appearance one would suppose him to be a commissary, or perhaps a quarter-master.