Enter SERJEANT TROUNCE, DRUMMER and SOLDIERS.
Trounce. Come, silence your drum--there is no valour stirring to-day. I thought St.
Patrick would have given us a recruit or two to- day.
Trounce. Oh! these are the lads I was looking for; they have the look of gentlemen.--An't
you single, my lads?
1 Coun. Yes, an please you, I be quite single: my relations be all dead, thank heavens,
more or less. I have but one poor mother left in the world, and she's an helpless woman.
Trounce. Indeed! a very extraordinary case--quite your own master then--the fitter to
serve his Majesty.--Can you read?
1 Coun. Noa, I was always too lively to take to learning; but John here is main clever at
it.
Trounce. So, what you're a scholar, friend?
2 Coun. I was born so, measter. Feyther kept grammar-school.
Trounce. Lucky man--in a campaign or two put yourself down chaplain to the regiment.
And I warrant you have read of warriors and heroes?
2 Coun. Yes, that I have: I have read of Jack the Giant Killer, and the Dragon of Wantly,
and the--Noa, I believe that's all in the hero way, except once about a comet.
Trounce. Wonderful knowledge!--Well, my heroes, I'll write word to the king of your
good intentions, and meet me half an hour hence at the Two Magpies.
Coun. We will, your honour, we will.
Trounce. But stay; for fear I shouldn't see you again in the crowd, clap these little bits of
ribbon into your hats.
1 Coun. Our hats are none of the best.
