Chapter 3

_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.

_Sol_. Mark, serjeant!

_Enter two_ COUNTRYMEN.

_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.

_Trounce_. Well, meet me at the Magpies, and I'll give you money to buy new ones.

_Coun_. Bless your honour, thank your honour. [_Exeunt_.]

_Trounce_. [_Winking at_ SOLDIERS.] Jack! [_Exeunt_ SOLDIERS.]

_Enter_ LIEUTENANT O'CONNOR.

So, here comes one would make a grenadier--Stop, friend, will you list?

_O'Con_. Who shall I serve under?

_Trounce_. Under me, to be sure.

_O'Con_. Isn't Lieutenant O'Connor your officer?

_Trounce_. He is, and I am commander over him.

_O'Con_. What! be your serjeants greater than your captains?

_Trounce_. To be sure we are; 'tis our business to keep them in order. For instance, now, the general writes to me, dear Serjeant, or dear Trounce, or dear Serjeant Trounce, according to his hurry, if your lieutenant does not demean himself accordingly, let me know.-- Yours, General Deluge.

_O'Con_. And do you complain of him often?

_Trounce_. No, hang him, the lad is good-natured at the bottom, so I pass over small things. But hark'ee, between ourselves, he is most confoundedly given to wenching.

_Enter_ CORPORAL FLINT.

_Flint_. Please your honour, the doctor is coming this way with his worship--We are all ready, and have our cues. [_Exit_.]

_O'Con_. Then, my dear Trounce, or my dear Sergeant, or my dear Serjeant Trounce, take yourself away.

_Trounce_. Zounds! the lieutenant--I smell of the black hole already. [_Exit_.]

_Enter_ JUSTICE CREDULOUS _and_ DOCTOR ROSY.

_Just_. I thought I saw some of the cut-throats.

_Rosy_. I fancy not; there's no one but honest Humphrey. Ha! Odds life, here comes some of them--we'll stay by these trees, and let them pass.

_Just_. Oh, the bloody-looking dogs!

[_Walks aside with_ DOCTOR ROSY.] _Re-enter_ CORPORAL FLINT _and two_ SOLDIERS.

_Flint_. Halloa, friend! do you serve Justice Credulous?

_O'Con_. I do.

_Flint_. Are you rich?

_O'Con_. Noa.

_Flint_. Nor ever will be with that old stingy booby. Look here-- take it. [_Gives him a purse_.]

_O'Con_. What must I do for this?

_Flint_. Mark me, our lieutenant is in love with the old rogue's daughter: help us to break his worship's bones, and carry off the girl, and you are a made man.

_O'Con_. I'll see you hanged first, you pack of skurry villains! [_Throws away the purse_.]

_Flint_. What, sirrah, do you mutiny? Lay hold of him.

_O'Con_. Nay, then, I'll try your armour for you. [_Beats them_.]

_All_. Oh! oh!--quarter! quarter!

[_Exeunt_ CORPORAL FLINT _and_ SOLDIERS.]

_Just_. [_Coming forward_.] Trim them, trounce them, break their bones, honest Humphrey--What a spirit he has!

_Rosy_. Aquafortis. _O'Con_. Betray your master!

_Rosy_. What a miracle of fidelity!

_Just_. Ay, and it shall not go unrewarded--I'll give him sixpence on the spot. Here, honest Humphrey, there's for yourself: as for this bribe, [_takes up the purse_,] such trash is best in the hands of justice. Now, then, doctor, I think I may trust him to guard the women: while he is with them I may go out with safety.

_Rosy_. Doubtless you may--I'll answer for the lieutenant's behaviour whilst honest Humphrey is with your daughter.

_Just_. Ay, ay, she shall go nowhere without him. Come along, honest Humphrey. How rare it is to meet with such a servant! [_Exeunt_.]