Thus far in safety . All is hush . Our subtle air of France quickens not the temperament of the enemy . These phlegmatic English snore out the night , in as gross heaviness as when their senses stagnate in their own native fogs , where stupor lies like lead upon them ,— which the muddy rogues call sleep . We have nearly passed the entrenchments ;— the day breaks .— La Gloire ! Where did you direct our mariners to meet us , with the boat ? Vague booby ! at what point ? East of the town :— I have mark 'd it . And , till they give the signal , here , if there be aught of safety to be picked from danger , is the least dangerous spot to tarry for them . We are here full early . Think , La Gloire , on the distress of our countrymen — the inhabitants perishing with hunger . Pr'ythee , no more objections . Well , well , I know thy zeal . Peace ! Remember your duty to me ; to your country . Yet , out , alas ! I mock myself to name it . Did not these rugged battlements of Calais ; This tomb , yet safeguard of its citizens , Which shuts the sword out , and locks hunger in ; Did not these walls — like Vulcan 's swarthy arms , Clasping sweet beauty 's queen — encircle now , Within their cold and ponderous embrace , The fair , yet , ah ! I fear , the fickle Julia , My sluggish zeal would lack the spur to rouse it . This enterprise may yet regain her . Once she was kind ; until her father 's policy , Nourish 'd in courts , stepp 'd in , and check 'd her love . Yet ‘ twas not love ; for true love knows no check : There is no skill in Cupid 's archery , When duty heals a love-wound . No more ! mark me , La Gloire ! As your officer , I may command you onward : but , in respect to your early attachment , your faithful service , ere you followed me to the army , if your mind misgive you in this undertaking , you have my leave to retreat . I say , you are free to return . No , La Gloire ,— I —— ‘ Sdeath , villain ! how dare your slanderous tongue to — but ‘ tis plain — ‘ tis for thy own wretched sake thou art thus anxious — drivelling coward ! Well , well , La Gloire , I may have been hasty : I —— ‘ Sdeath , blockhead ! we shall be discovered . Peace ! I command you , La Gloire ! I command you , as your officer . Then move not :— here , sir , on this spot . Speak not , for your life ! Obey ! Ha ! the signal ! the morning breaks :— they arrive in the very nick . Now then , La Gloire , for the enterprize . Why does not the blockhead stir ?— Well , well , my good fellow ! I have been harsh : but — not yet ?— Pshaw ! this military enforcement has acted like a spell upon him .— How to dissolve it ?—— Again !—— Come , come , La Gloire ! I — dull dolt !— I have it :—— March ! Yet , hear me , Julia —— Is then the path of duty so precise , That ‘ twill not for a little deviate ? Sweet , let it wind , and bend to recollection . Think on our oaths ; yes , lady , they are mutual :— You said you loved ; I treasured the confession , As misers hoard their gold : nay , ‘ twas my all .— Think not I chatter in the idle school Of whining coxcombs , where despair and death Are words of course ; I swell not fancied ills With windy eloquence : no , trust me , Julia , I speak in honest , simple suffering : And disappointment , in my life 's best hope , So feeds upon my life , and wears me inward , That I am nearly spirit-broken . Yes , court policy ; Time-serving zeal : tame , passive , blind , obedience To the stern will of power ; which doth differ As wide from true , impulsive loyalty , As puppet work from nature . O , I would The time were come !— our enemy , the English , Bid fairest first to show a bright example ; When , ‘ twixt the ruler and the ruled , affection Shall be reciprocal : when majesty Shall gather strength from mildness ; and the subject Shall look with duteous love upon his sovereign , As the child eyes its father . Now , by Heaven ! Old John de Vienne is turn 'd a temporiser ; Making his daughter the poor topmost round Of his vile ladder to preferment . ‘ Sdeath ! And you to suffer this ! O , fie , fie , Julia ! ‘ Twould show more noble in you to lay bare Your mind 's inconstancy , than thus to keep The semblance of a passion ; meanly veiling Your broken faith with the excuse of duty . Out o n't ! ‘ tis shallow — you ne'er loved . Stay , stay , and listen to me . Gone ! and thus too ! And have I lost thee — and for ever , Julia ? Now do I look on life as the worn mariner , Stretching his eyes o'er seas immeasurable , And all is drear and comfortless . Henceforward , My years will be one void ; day roll on day , In sameness infinite , without a hope To chequer the sad prospect . O ! if death Came yoked with honour to me , I could , now , Embrace it with as warm and willing rapture , As mothers clasp their infants . Enter LA GLOIRE . Now , La Gloire ! what is the news ? What is't ? I guessed as much . What are they ? Who ? Who , La Gloire ? Eustache ! Why , I am courted to't .— The time , example , Do woo me to my very wish .— Come hither . Two , it should seem , are wanting , to complete The little band of those brave men , who die To save their fellows . Mark me , La Gloire : and see , that you obey me , Ev'n to the very letter of my orders . They are the last , perhaps , my honest fellow , I e'er shall give thee . Seek thy father out , And tell him this from me : his gallant bearing Doth school his betters ; I have studied o'er His noble lesson , and have learnt my duty . Say , he will find me in the market-place , Disguised in humble seeming ; and I fain Would pass for one allied to him : and thence — Dost mark me well ?— I will along with him , Ev'n hand in hand , to death . Pr'ythee , no more , La Gloire ? I am resolved ;— My purpose fix 'd . It would be bitter to thee , To see me die in anger with thee : therefore , Do thou my bidding ; close thy service up , In duty to my will . Go , find thy father ; I will prepare within the while .— Obey me ,— Or the last look from thy expiring master , Darting reproach , shall burst thy heart in twain . Mark , and be punctual ! I pr'ythee , peace , Eustache ! I fain would ‘ scape Observance from the rabble . Hurry o'er This irksome march ; and straightway to the camp . Shame ! I shall burst !— the dregs !—— A man :— let that content you , sir !— ‘ Tis blood You crave ,— and with an appetite so keen , ‘ Tis strange to find you nice about its quality . But for this slave , Who thus has dared belie me , did not circumstance Rein in my wish — — now , by my soul ! I 'd crush the reptile Beneath my feet ; now , while his poisonous tongue Is darting forth its venom 'd slander on me . Truly , sir , ‘ Tis waste of royal breath to make this stir , For one , whom some few minutes hence your sentence Must sink to nothing . Henceforth I am dumb To all interrogation . Heaven !— my Julia ! Art thou then true ?— O give me utterance ! Now , fortune , do thy worst !—