A Grove near the Camp.
Enter TWO COUNTRYMEN.
First Countryman.
I TELL you I will certainly list; I ha’ made up my mind on’t.
2nd. C.
Well, well, I’ll say no more.
1st. C.
Besides the camp lies so convenient, I mayn’t have such another opportunity.
2nd. C.
Why its main jolly to be sure and all that so fair. Now if I were to list, I should like hugely to belong to a regiment of horse, and here is one of the grandest troop com’d lately. I see’d two of the officers, mighty delicate looking gentlemen, they were drest quite different from the others; their jackets, indeed, are pretty much the same, but then they wear a sort of petticoat as ‘twere, with a large hat and feather, and a mortal sight of hair. I suppose now they are some of your outlandish troops; your foreign Hessians or such like,
1st. C.
Aye, like enough. Here comes the sarjeant. Ecod he can sing louder than his own drum. Zooks! see how brave they march. Well, walking is a mighty dull way of going after all.
Enter SERJEANT, DRUMMER, RECRUITS, &c.
SONG.
SERJEANT.
Great Caesar once renownd in fame,
For a mighty arm, and a laurel brow,
With his VE-NI, VI-DI, VI-CI came,
And he conquerd the world with his row dow dow.
Chor.
Row, dow, dow; row, dow, dow,
And he conquerd the world, &c.
Then should our vaunting Enemies come,
And winds, and waves their cause allow,
By Freedom’s Flag we’ll beat our drum,
And they’ll fly from the sound of our row, dow, dow.
Row, dow, dow, &c.
Then come my lads, our Bounty share,
Whose honest hearts British Valour avow,
In Freedom’s cause to Camp repair,
And follow the beat of my row, dow, dow.
Row, dow, dow, &c.
Serj.
Come my lads now is your time to serve the King, and make men of yourselves: Well my lad, what do you say?
2nd. C.
I canno’ leave my farm.
Serjeant.
Your farm? — what would would you plow and sow for the hungry Frenchmen to come and reap. Come my lads! let your fields lie fallow this year, and I’ll insure you double crops ever after. Why now here’s a fellow made for a soldier; there’s a leg for a spatterdash, with an eye like the King of Prussia.
1st C.
Aye, but serjeant, I hanna’ the air.
Serjeant.
The air, O, we’ll soon learn you that; why now here’s little Ralph; there’s a fellow for you, he has not been listed afortnight, and see what a presence — there’s dignity! O, there is nothing like the drill for grace.
1st C.
Serjeant, I’m your man.
2nd C.
And so am I.
Serj.
That’s right my lads; this is much better than to be dragg’d away like a slave, or be scratch’d off the church door for the militia. Now you have present pay, and the bounty money into the bargain. But come my lads, let me ask you a few questions, and then the business is done.
TRIO.
Ser.
Yet ere you’re permitted to list with me,
Answer me strait twice questions three.
1st. C.
No lies, master Serjeant, well tell unto you,
For tho’ we be poor lads we’re honest and true.
Ser.
First, can you drink well?
1st. C.
Cheerly, cheerly.
Ser.
Each man a gallon?
2nd. C.
Nearly, nearly.
Ser.
Love a sweet wench too?
Both.
Dearly, dearly.
Ser.
The answer is honest, bold, and fair;
So drink to the King, for his soldiers you are.
Chorus.
The answer is honest, &c.
Ser.
When bullets are whizzing around your head,
You’ll boldly march on wherever you’re led.
2nd. C.
To death we’ll rush forward without delay,
If good master serjeant, you’ll shew us the way
Ser.
Next, can you swear well?
2nd. C.
Bluffly, bluffly.
Ser.
Handle a frenchman —
1st. C.
Roughly, roughly.
Ser.
Frown at a cannon?
Both.
Gruffly, gruffly.
Ser.
The answers are honest, bold, and fair,
So drink to the King for his soldiers you are.
Chorus.
The answers are honest, &c.
Huzza! Huzza! Huzza!
Enter NELL.
Nell.
Well said my lads, I am glad to see so many good hearts in the country — O, but was not you saying one of your recruits knows me!
Ser.
O, yes Nell, a lad from suffolk. Hark’ye, where’s the Suffolk boy as we call him? O, here he comes.
Enter NANCY.
Nancy.
Ah serjeant, did you not begin to think you had lost me? But come, will you leave me a few minutes with Nelly.
Ser.
With all my heart. Come, my lads, let’s to the heart of oak, where we’ll drink his Majesty’s health.
(Exit singing The answer, &c. and two huzzas.
Nancy.
Why Nelly, don’t you know me?
Nell.
Know you? Egad I don’t know whether I do or not — sure it can’t be — and yet, sure it is Nancy Granger.
Nancy.
It is her, my dear Nelly, who kisses you now with the truest sense of gratitude for your former kindness and friendship.
Nell.
My dear girl — Odso! I must take care of my reputation. — But what in the name, of fancy brings you here, and in this dress child?
Nancy.
How can you ask me that question, Nelly? You are no stranger to the love William and I have for each other; a few days would have united us for ever, had not cruel fate separated us; the regiment being ordered to march immediately, no resource was then left, but my flying from my father’s house: I procured a dress from one of our neighbours sons, and that love which induced me to forsake my sex, still supports me under every affliction. Fortunately, on my way, I met the serjeant, and after some entreaty was inlisted and equipped as you see. What think you Nell? does not my dress become me?
Nell.
Yes, indeed, I think you make a smart little soldier.
Nancy.
Why indeed I am rather under size, but I fancy in action I could do more real execution than those who look bigger, and talk louder. But tell me, my dear Nelly, where is William? I long to see him: Does he ever speak of his poor Nancy? sure he cannot be faithless.
Nell.
Why really, Nancy, I have some doubts.
Nancy.
Heavens! is it possible?
Nell.
Ah, my poor little soldier, I only did it to try your affection. Your William is true, and worthy of your love.
Nancy.
You have made a greater shock on my spirits than even an army of Frenchmen could have done.
AIR.
When War’s Alarms enticed my Willy from me,
My fond heart with grief did figh,
Each fresh remembrance brought fresh sorrow on me;
I waked ere yet the morn was nigh,
No other could delight him,
Ah! why did I ere slight him,
Cooly answering his fond tale?
Which drove him far,
Amid the rage of war,
And left silly me thus to bewail.
But I no longer thus, a maid forsaken,
Nor will I mourn like yonder dove,
For ere the dawn to-morrow shall awaken,
I’ll go seek my absent love:
The distant hills all over,
I’ll fly to seek my lover,
Scorning every threat’ning fear;
Nor distant shore,
Nor cannon’s loud roar,
Shall longer keep me from my dear.
Nell.
But, my dear girl, consider, do you think you can cheerfully go through the toil and fatigue and not repine after your own happy situation you left behind you?
Nancy.
O no, I still must love, though I should regret the occassion of our difficulties.
Nell.
Difficulty? — Why then marry him at the drum head and that will end all your difficulties.
AIR.
What can our wisest heads provide
For the child we doat on dearly;
But a merry soul, and an honest heart
In a lad who loves her dearly;
Who with kisses and chat,
And all all that,
Will sooth him late and early,
If the truth she tell,
When she knows him well,
She’ll swear she loves him dearly.
Let the prude at the name or sight of man,
Pretend to rail severely;
But alack a day! unseen she’ll play
With the lad who loves her dearly,
Say old men whate’r they will,
’Tis a lover still
Makes day and night roll cheerly
What makes our may
All holiday,
But the lad we doat on dearly.
Nell.
Well, my dear Nancy, you must endeavour to throw off that dress as soon as possible. I’ll tell you what, here are some ladies in the camp, who condescend, to notice me, I’ll endeavour to introduce you to them, and they may be of great service to you: in the mean time, should you by chance meet with William, besure you dont discover yourself — Hush! here is the serjeant.
Enter SERJEANT.
Ser.
Why Nelly, how’s this? You have had a long conversation together; I began to think you had run away with my new recruit.
Nell.
O, there’s no great danger serjeant; he’s no soldier for me; pray is he perfect in his exercise?
Ser.
O, as handy a lad as ever was: Come, youngster, convince her.
(Nancy goes through the exercise.)
Nell.
Very well indeed: But serjeant, I must beg of you to befriend him as much as you can, for my sake.
Ser.
Any service in my power you may command, but a soldier’s life is not the easiest in the world, so they ought to befriend each other.
TRIO.
O the joy! when the trumpets sound,
And the march beats around,
When the steed tears the ground,
And shouts to the skies resound,
On glittering arms the sun-beams playing,
Heighten the soldier’s charms.
The sife and the roll of the distant drum
Cry hark! the enemy come!
To arms! the attack’s begun.