Withhold the maid I love; we better live
Apart for aye than mated with dishonor!
Assault and take this fort, kill every man;
It is for what we hither came prepared.
And lest thou think that my companions fail
To share my fortitude and fearlessness,
From their own lips thou shalt now hear the proof.
[He goes to every door and calls without.]
Come, Crockett, Bowie, Dickinson and Kimble,
Come hither all who hearken to my voice.
Enter Crockett, Dickinson, Kimble and Bowie, the latter on his crutches, through the side-door: some volunteers from the door in the rear. Bowie, after his entrance, lies down on the couch.
My friends! I have convened you here, that you
May likewise give your answer to the summons,
Which Santa Anna has conveyed to us
Through Colonel Bradburn here, his messenger.
'Tis his demand, that unconditionally
We render up to him this forteress.
So, David Crockett, give him thine reply!