'Tis true, full victory declares for us, But we have dearly, dearly purchas'd it. Full fifteen hundred of our men lie dead, Who, with their officers, do swell the list Of this day's carnage--On the well-fought hill, Whole ranks cut down, lie struggling with their wounds, Or close their bright eyes, in the shades of night. No wonder! such incessant musketry, And fire of Cannon, from the hill-top pour'd, Seem'd not the agency of mortal men, But Heaven itself, with snares, and vengeance arm'd, T' oppose our gaining it. E'en when was spent Their ammunition, and fierce Warren slain, Huge stones were hurled from the rocky brow, And war renew'd, by these inveterate; Till Gard'ner wounded, the left wing gave way, And with their shatter'd infantry, the whole, Drawn off by Putnam, to the causeway fled, When from the ships, and batt'ries on the wave They met deep loss, and strew'd the narrow bridge, With lifeless carcases. Oh, such a day, Since Sodom and Gomorrah sunk in flames, Hath not been heard of by the ear of man, Nor hath an eye beheld its parallel.

Clinton Monologue from The Battle of Bunkers-Hill

Rehearse Clinton's monologue