Oh, yes, papa! He's got to be a captain.
ELSWORTH. Not a rebel, I trust.
ROSE. Not a traitor, I thank heaven.
ELSWORTH. You confound terms strangely. A traitor is one false to his
king.
ROSE. False to his country, sir. A king is a creature of to-day--your
country a thing of immortality.
ELSWORTH. Your King is your sovereign, by divine right and true
succession.
ROSE. Then, sir, serve the Stuarts. How came the house of Hanover upon
the throne? You see, sir, that if you zealous loyalists could shift
off James, we, with less belief in the divine right of kings, can
shift off George.
_Enter_ MR. APOLLO METCALF.
METCALF. Good day, Mr. Elsworth. Good day, young ladies. "Good day"
all, I may say.
ELSWORTH. Have you any news of the war, Mr. Metcalf?
METCALF. News--plenty of it, and mad. The country is depopulated.
There isn't a youth with the first hope of a beard upon his chin, who
hasn't gone with young Armstrong, to join the army.
ELSWORTH. Young Armstrong?
METCALF. To be sure, sir. He's turned out a fiery rebel, after
all--and a captain, to boot.
ELSWORTH. Heaven bless me, but this is very sad. A promising youth
to be led astray! Dear me, dear me! Rose, I am very sorry to say that
this is certainly your fault. You have filled him with your wild,
radical, and absurd heroic rhapsodies. You have made him disloyal to
his King. You have put a dagger in his hand, to stab at the heart of
his country.
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