At this point McClintock puts in the whole of his curious play —­which we skip.

Some correspondence follows now.  The bitter father and the distressed lovers write the letters.  Elopements are attempted.  They are idiotically planned, and they fail.  Then we have several pages of romantic powwow and confusion dignifying nothing.  Another elopement is planned; it is to take place on Sunday, when everybody is at church.  But the “hero” cannot keep the secret; he tells everybody.  Another author would have found another instrument when he decided to defeat this elopement; but that is not McClintock’s way.  He uses the person that is nearest at hand.

The evasion failed, of course.  Ambulinia, in her flight, takes refuge in a neighbor’s house.  Her father drags her home.  The villagers gather, attracted by the racket.

Elfonzo was moved at this sight.  The people followed on to see what was going to become of Ambulinia, while he, with downcast looks, kept at a distance, until he saw them enter the abode of the father, thrusting her, that was the sigh of his soul, out of his presence into a solitary apartment, when she exclaimed, “Elfonzo!  Elfonzo! oh, Elfonzo! where art thou, with all thy heroes? haste, oh! haste, come thou to my relief.  Ride on the wings of the wind!  Turn thy force loose like a tempest, and roll on thy army like a whirlwind, over this mountain of trouble and confusion.  Oh friends! if any pity me, let your last efforts throng upon the green hills, and come to the relief of Ambulinia, who is guilty of nothing but innocent love.”  Elfonzo called out with a loud voice, “My God, can I stand this! arouse up, I beseech you, and put an end to this tyranny.  Come, my brave boys,” said he, “are you ready to go forth to your duty?” They stood around him.  “Who,” said he, “will call us to arms?  Where are my thunderbolts of war?  Speak ye, the first who will meet the foe!  Who will go forward with me in this ocean of grievous temptation?  If there is one who desires to go, let him come and shake hands upon the altar of devotion, and swear that he will be a hero; yes, a Hector in a cause like this, which calls aloud for a speedy remedy.”  “Mine be the deed,” said a young lawyer, “and mine alone; Venus alone shall quit her station before I will forsake one jot or tittle of my promise to you; what is death to me? what is all this warlike army, if it is not to win a victory?  I love the sleep of the lover and the mighty; nor would I give it over till the blood of my enemies should wreak with that of my own.  But God forbid that our fame should soar on the blood of the slumberer.”  Mr. Valeer stands at his door with the frown of a demon upon his brow, with his dangerous weapon [3] ready to strike the first man who should enter his door.  “Who will arise and go forward through blood and carnage to the rescue of my Ambulinia?” said Elfonzo.  “All,” exclaimed the multitude; and onward they went, with their implements of battle.  Others, of a more timid nature, stood among the distant hills to see the result of the contest.