[Rises.
Melville.
Good wishes go with you.
Bland.
I'll save my friend.
[Exeunt.
Scene, the Encampment, by starlight.
Enter the General, M'Donald and Seward.
General.
'T is well. Each sentinel upon his post
Stands firm, and meets me at the bayonet's point;
While in his tent the weary soldier lies,
The sweet reward of wholesome toil enjoying;
Resting secure as erst within his cot
He careless slept, his rural labour o'er;
Ere Britons dar'd to violate those laws,
Those boasted laws by which themselves are govern'd,
And strove to make their fellow-subjects slaves.