"Without wit, without wisdom, half stupid, half drunk, And rolling along arm-in-arm with his Punk, Comes gallant Sir William, the warrior (by proxy) To harangue his soldiers (held up by his Doxy)!" _Sir Wm._ (speaks) "My boys, I'm a-going to send you to Tryon, To Johnstown, where _you'll_ get as groggy as I am! By a Tory from there I have just been informed That there's nobody there, so the town shall be stormed! For if nobody's there and nobody near it, My army shall conquer that town, never fear it!" (_Enter_ Joe Gallopaway, a refugee Tory) _Joe_ "Brave soldiers, go fight that we all may get rich!" _Regular Soldiers_ "We'll fetch you a halter, you * * * * ! Get out! And go live in the woods upon nuts, Or we'll give you our bayonets plump in your guts! Do you think we are fighting to feed such a crew As Butler, Sir John, Mr. Singler and you?" (_Enter_ Sir John Johnson) _Sir John_ "Come on, my brave boys! Now! as bold as a lion! And march at my heels to the County called Tryon; My lads, there's no danger, for this you should know, That I'd let it alone if I thought it was so! So point all your noses towards the Dominion And we'll all live like lords is my honest opinion!" Scene--Buck Island Trail (_Enter_ Fame, Sir John, and his Royal Greens) _Fame_ "In cunning and canting, deceit and disguise, In breaking parole by inventing cheap lies, Sir John is a match for the worst of his species, But in this undertaking he'll soon go to pieces. He'll fall to the rear, for he'd rather go last, Crying, 'Forward, my boys! Let me see you all past! For his Majesty's service (so reads my commission) Requires I push forward the whole expedition!" _Sir John_ "I care not a louse for the United States,-- For General Schuyler or General Gates! March forward, my lads, and account for each sinner, While Butler, St. Leger, and I go to dinner. For plenty's in Tryon of eating and drinking, Who'd stay in New York to be starving and stinking." March over the Mohawk! March over, march over, You'll live like a parcel of hogs in sweet clover!" Scene--Outside Fort Stanwix (A council of war. At a distance the new American flag flying above the bastions) _Sir John_ "I'm sorry I'm here, for I'm horribly scared, But how did I know that they'd all be prepared? The fate of our forray looks darker and darker, The state of our larder grows starker and starker, I fear that a round-shot or one of their carkers[33] May breech my new breeches like poor Peter Parker's![34] Oh, say, if my rear is uncovered, what then!--" (_Enter_ Walter Butler in a panic) _Butler_ "Held! Schuyler is coming with ten thousand men!" (A canon shot from the Fort) _Sir John_ (falls flat)