FIRST COUNTRYMAN. 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. SERJEANT TROUNCE. Indeed! a very extraordinary case—quite your own master then—the fitter to serve his Majesty.—Can you read? FIRST COUNTRYMAN. Noa, I was always too lively to take to learning; but John here is main clever at it. SERJEANT TROUNCE. So, what you’re a scholar, friend? SECOND COUNTRYMAN. I was born so, measter. Feyther kept grammar-school. SERJEANT 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? SECOND COUNTRYMAN. 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. SERJEANT 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. COUNTRYMAN. We will, your honour, we will. SERJEANT TROUNCE. But stay; for fear I shouldn’t see you again in the crowd, clap these little bits of ribbon into your hats. FIRST COUNTRYMAN. Our hats are none of the best. SERJEANT TROUNCE. Well, meet me at the Magpies, and I’ll give you money to buy new ones. COUNTRYMAN. Bless your honour, thank your honour. [_Exeunt_.] SERJEANT TROUNCE. [_Winking at_ SOLDIERS.] Jack! [_Exeunt_ SOLDIERS.] _Enter_ LIEUTENANT O’CONNOR. So, here comes one would make a grenadier—Stop, friend, will you list? LIEUTENANT O’CONNOR. Who shall I serve under? SERJEANT TROUNCE. Under me, to be sure. LIEUTENANT O’CONNOR. Isn’t Lieutenant O’Connor your officer? SERJEANT TROUNCE. He is, and I am commander over him. LIEUTENANT O’CONNOR. What! be your serjeants greater than your captains? SERJEANT 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. LIEUTENANT O’CONNOR. And do you complain of him often? SERJEANT 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. CORPORAL FLINT. Please your honour, the doctor is coming this way with his worship—We are all ready, and have our cues. [_Exit_.] LIEUTENANT O’CONNOR. Then, my dear Trounce, or my dear Sergeant, or my dear Serjeant Trounce, take yourself away. SERJEANT TROUNCE. Zounds! the lieutenant—I smell of the black hole already. [_Exit_.] _Enter_ JUSTICE CREDULOUS _and_ DOCTOR ROSY. JUSTICE CREDULOUS. I thought I saw some of the cut-throats.