Bland monologue (Act 1) — André

Pardon me, Melville. Oh, that well-known name, So link'd with circumstances infamous!-- My friend must pardon me. Thou wilt not blame When I shall tell what cause I have to love him: What cause to think him nothing more the pupil Of Honour stern, than sweet Humanity. Rememberest thou, when cover'd o'er with wounds, And left upon the field, I fell the prey Of Britain? To a loathsome prison-ship Confin'd, soon had I sunk, victim of death, A death of aggravated miseries; But, by benevolence urg'd, this best of men, This gallant youth, then favour'd, high in power, Sought out the pit obscene of foul disease, Where I, and many a suffering soldier lay, And, like an angel, seeking good for man, Restor'd us light, and partial liberty. Me he mark'd out his own. He nurst and cur'd, He lov'd and made his friend. I liv'd by him, And in my heart he liv'd, till, when exchang'd, Duty and honour call'd me from my friend.-- Judge how my heart is tortur'd.--Gracious heaven! Thus, thus to meet him on the brink of death-- A death so infamous! Heav'n grant my prayer. [_Kneels._ That I may save him, O, inspire my heart With thoughts, my tongue with words that move to pity! [_Rises._ Quick, Melville, shew me where my Andre lies.