Thy father——
Bland.
A prisoner of war—I long have known it—
But made so without blemish to his honour,
And soon exchang'd, returns unto his friends,
To guard these little ones, and point and lead,
To virtue and to glory.
Mrs. Bland.
Never, never!
His life, a sacrifice to André's manes,[7]
Must soon be offer'd. Even now, endungeon'd,
Like a vile felon, on the earth he lies,
His death expecting. André's execution
Gives signal for the murder of thy father—
André now dies!—
Bland [despairingly].
My father and my friend!!
Mrs. Bland.
There is but one on earth can save my husband—
But one can pardon André.
Bland.