Laura Secord, the heroine of 1812: A Drama; and Other Poems
Chapter 11
_Enter_ FITZGIBBON, _reconnoitring_.
_Fitzgibbon_. They must be pretty near by this time, If they are come at all.
(_Two American soldiers of the advanced guard rush out of the tavern and present their rifles_. FITZGIBBON _springs on them, and, seizing each man's weapon, crosses them in front of himself_.)
Not yet, my friends.
[_They struggle, and one of the Americans draws_ FITZGIBBON'S _sword and is about to plunge it in his shoulder_.
_Enter a woman, the_ tavern-keeper.
_Woman_. Ye Yankee rogue! ye coward!
[_She snatches the sword, and runs into the tavern with it_.
_Fitzgibbon_. Take that! and that!
[_He trips up one man, and knocks the other down, putting his foot on the man's breast_.
Now, give me up your arms.
[_They give up their arms_.
_Enter_ FITZGIBBON'S _command_.
Here, Sergeant, march them in and set a guard.
[_They are marched into the tavern. Shots are heard_.
_Fitsgibbon_. They're come! Quick--march, my lads.
* * * * *