_The foe to inspire you to beat,_ _Only list to the trumpet so shrill!_ _Till the enemy's kill'd we can't eat:_ _Do the job--you may eat all you kill._ _Ran ta tan._ All. _We'll eat all we kill; ran ta tan,_ _Ran ta tan--we may eat all we kill._ [_Exeunt SOLDIERS.--CITIZENS come forward._ _1 Cit._ Bon jour, Monsieur Grenouille? _2 Cit._ Aha! mon voisin! Here's a goodly morning. The sun shines till our blood dances to it like a frisky wench to a tabor. _1 Cit._ Yes, truly; but 'tis a dance without refreshments. We, are in a miserable plight, neighbour. _2 Cit._ Ma foi! miserable indeed! mais le soleil-- _1 Cit._ How fare your wife and family, neighbour Grenouille? _2 Cit._ Ah! my pauvre wife and famille; litel to eat now, mon voisin--nothing bye and bye: lucky for me 'tis fine weather. Great many mouths in my house; very litel to put into 'em. But I am French; the sun shines; I am gay.--There is myself, my poor dear wife, half a loaf, seven children, three sprats, a tom cat, and a pipkin of milk. I am hungry; mais il fait beau temps; I dance--my famille starves--I sing--toujours gai--the sun shines--tal lal la! tal lal la! _3 Cit._ Tut, we wo'not bear it. 'Tis our Governor is in fault: this way we are certain to perish. _4 Cit._ Peste! we'll not endure it. Shut up, near eleven months, within the walls. _2 Cit._ In fine weather--no promenade! _3 Cit._ No provisions.--We'll to the Governor, force the keys, and surrender the town. Allons! come along, neighbours, to the Governor! _All._ Ay, ay--to the Governor. Away! [_Going in a Posse._ _Enter EUSTACHE de ST. PIERRE, carrying a small Wallet._ _Eust._ Why, how now, ho!--nothing but noise and babble! Whither away so fast? Stand, rogues, and speak! _3 Cit._ Whither away? Marry! we would away from famine: we are for the Governor's, to force the keys of the town. _Eust._ There roar'd the wrathful mouse! You squeaking braggart, Whom hunger has made vent'rous, who would thrust Your starveling nose out to the cat's fell gripe, That watches round the cranny you lie snug in, Nibble your scraps; be thankful, and keep quiet. Thou rail on hunger! why, 'twas hunger bore thee; 'Twas hunger rear'd thee; fixing, in thy cradle, Her meagre stamp upon thy weazel visage; And, from a child, that half starved face of thine Has given full meals the lie. When thou dost eat, Thou dost digest consumption: thou'rt of those kine Thou wouldst e'en swallow up thy brethren, here, And still look lean. What! fellow citizens, Trust you this thing? Can skin and bones mislead you? If we must suffer, suffer patiently. Did I e'er grumble, mongrels? What am I?