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Santa Anna.


No, no! he must be spared for better ends.

James Travis.

For better ends! Ha! I devine thy plan
To use me as a scare-crow 'gainst my brother,
Whom so thou ween'st to force into surrender
By threats of torturing me! Is that thy scheme?
Well, despot, list! Although thy base design
Would wreck against my brother's fortitude
And hardly need a sacrifice from me,
Not even I will gratify thy wish!
See now, how come "thy better ends" to end!

[He tears the bandages from his wounds.]

Stream forth, my blood! if here or in the fight,
What matters it? To Liberty and Right
Thine every drop was vowed; e'en here thou flow'st
In their behalf! Where, tyrant, is thy boast?

[He falls into Castrillon's arms.]

Santa Anna.


Quick! get a surgeon, Duque, and thou, Almonte,
Assist Castrillon to remove the youth,

[When Bradburn takes a hand in the removal.]

—Bradburn, thou wilt remain a while with me,—

[Continuing to address the others.]