Play on Words

dramatic · any · ~2 min · 342 words

Howe monologue (Act 2) — The Battle of Bunkers-Hill

Not strange to your maturer thought, Burgoyne, This matter will appear. A people brave, Who never yet, of luxury, or soft Delights, effeminate, and false, have tasted. But, through hate of chains, and slav'ry, suppos'd, Forsake their mountain tops, and rush to arms. Oft have I heard their valour published: Their perseverance, and untamable, Fierce mind, when late they fought with us, and drove, The French encroaching on their settlements, Back to their frozen lakes. Or when with us On Cape Breton, they stormed Louisburg. With us in Canada, they took Quebec; And at the Havannah, these NEW-ENGLAND MEN, Led on by Putnam, acted gallantly. I had a brother once, who in that war, With fame commanded them, and when he fell, Not unlamented; for these warriors, So brave themselves, and sensible of merit, Erected him a costly monument; And much it grieves me that I draw my sword, For this late insurrection and revolt, To chastise them. Would to Almighty God, The task unnatural, had been assign'd, Elsewhere. But since by Heaven, determined, Let's on, and wipe the day of LEXINGTON, Thus soil'd, quite from our soldiers' memories. This reinforcement, which with us have fail'd, In many a transport, from _Britannia's_ shores, Will give new vigour to the Royal Arms, And crush rebellion, in its infancy. Let's on, and from this siege, calamitous, Assert our liberty; nay, rather die, Transfix'd in battle, by their bayonets, Than thus remain, the scoff and ridicule Of gibing wits, and paltry gazetteers, On this, their madding continent, who cry, Where is the _British_ valour: that renown Which spoke in thunder, to the Gallic shores? That spirit is evaporate, that fire; Which erst distinguish'd them, that flame; And gen'rous energy of soul, which fill'd Their Henrys, Edwards, thunder-bolts of war; Their Hampdens, Marlboroughs, and the immortal Wolfe, On the Abraham heights, victorious. _Britannia's_ genius, is unfortunate, And flags, say they, when Royal tyranny Directs her arms. This let us then disprove, In combat speedily, and take from them, The wantonness of this fell pride, and boasting.

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