LENOX. And so, then, you admire a military life?

ADELA. Oh, I'm in raptures with it! I am a perfect female Quixote, and would relinquish a thousand dandy beaux for one brave fellow; and, therefore, Lenox, don't be surprised, if you should see me going about from tent to tent, chaunting the old songs of

_"Soldier, soldier, marry me, With your fife and drum."_

_CHRISTINE suddenly appears in the background and surveys the party with astonishment._

CHRISTINE. Heavens! what do I see? Lenox, and with a female so affectionately?

LENOX. Your spirits charm me, dear Adela, and revive those feelings for you, that time has impaired, but not destroyed. But come, let us in and see your worthy father.

[_Leads her into the tent to the left._

CHRISTINE. Cruel, unkind, false Lenox! Are these your vows of constancy?

are these your protestations of love? Scarcely are you free from our cottage, when your vows and pledges are but air. Wretched Christine!

what will become of you? I have deserted my father's house to avoid a hateful match, and seek the protection of the man I love; he is false, and I am lost. What's to be done? Return home a penitent, and meet the frowns of my father, and be wedded to the man I hate? Never. Seek out Lenox, and upbraid him with his falsehood? No, pride and wounded honour will not permit me. Let him go--he is a wretch who trifles with the affections of a woman. I care not what becomes of me, despair is all that I have left. Ha! a thought strikes me with the lightning's force--the army--I will enlist--this disguise is favourable, and in the battle's rage, seek that death which quickly awaits me--'tis resolved.

[_CORPORAL pa.s.ses over the stage._] Hist, corporal.

CORPORAL. Well, my lad, what would ye?

CHRISTINE. I would enlist, good corporal, and serve my country.

CORPORAL. Enlist! As a drummer or fifer, I suppose.

CHRISTINE. No; in the ranks--and though small, you will find me capable.

Give me your musket. [_CHRISTINE takes the musket, shoulders, presents, and goes through a few motions._]

CORPORAL. Well done, my little fellow; you'll do, if it's only for a fugelman; come along to our sergeant, and receive the bounty.

[_Exit._

CHRISTINE. Now, Lenox, now am I fully revenged for your cruel desertion.

[_Follows._

_End of the First Act._

ACT II.

SCENE I. _York, in Upper Canada; a Tavern meanly furnished._

_Enter LAROLE, in pursuit of the chambermaid._

LAROLE. Come here, you littel demoiselle--you bootiful sauvage, vy you run vay from me--hay?

MAID. I wish you would let me alone, mounsure, you officers' gentlemen are very disagreeable things.

LAROLE. Disagreeable? ma foi! I am one joli garcon, one pretti batchelor; disagreeable? I vill tell you, ma belle grizette, I am maitre de mode, I give de lecons for dance, to speake de English, and de Francaise aussi; I can fence, aha! or fight de duel, or de enemi, je suis un soldat.

MAID. Well, if you're a soldier, you have no business to be following me up and down the house like a pet lamb. Why don't you go to camp?

LAROLE. Camp? vat is de camp? Oho, le champ de bataille; I shall tell you, mademoiselle, I did fight at the bataille de Vittoria, com un diable, like littel devil. I did kill beaucoup d'Anglais. Mai my maitre, le capitain, he did give me a dam tump on my head wis his rapier, and did knock me down from on top of my horse, and make a me von prisonier.

MAID. Poor fellow! And so, mounsure, you were made prisoner?

LAROLE. Oui, ven I could not run avay, begar I surrender like von brave homme, and now I am jentiman to capitain Pendragoon; I do brus his coat, poudre his hair, and pull his corset tight, and ven he was order to come to Amerique, and fight wis de Yankee Doodel, begar me come too. I arrive ici, I am here, to make a littel de love to you.

MAID. Well now, once for all, I tell you not to be following me; I don't like Frenchmen--I can't parlyvoo.

LAROLE. You no like de Frenchiman? O quell barbare! vy you ave von abominable gout, mademoiselle, von shockin taste. I shall tell you, mademoiselle, en my contree, en France, de ladies are ver fond of me. O beaucoup, I am so charmant--so aimable, and so jentee, I have three five sweetheart, ami de coeur, mai for all dat I do love you ver mush, par example.

MAID. Let me go! [_Bell rings._] There, your master calls you.

[_Exit._

LAROLE. Dam de littel bell, I vill not come; mon maitre he always interrupt me ven I make de love to the pretti ladi, he be jealous, begar I vill not come.

[_Exit opposite side._

_Enter CAPTAIN PENDRAGON, dressed in the British uniform, but in the extreme of fashion--throws himself into a chair._

PENDRAGON. Oh, curse such roads! My bones are making their way out of their sockets--such vile, abominable, detestable--Waiter!--If my friends at Castle Joram only knew the excruciating fatigues which I am undergoing in this barbarous land--Why, waiter!--or if his highness the commander-in-chief was only sensible of my great sacrifices to--Why, waiter! where the devil are you?

_Enter WAITER._

WAITER. Here I be, sir.

PENDRAGON. Why didn't you come when I first called? Do you think I've got lungs like a hunter? I'm fatigued and hungry. Get me an anchovy, a toast, and a bottle of old port.

WAITER. A what, sir? an ancho--

PENDRAGON. Yes, sir, an anchovy--small ones--delicate.

WAITER. Why, sir, we don't know what these are in this country.

PENDRAGON. The devil you don't! Then pray, sir, what have you to eat in this d.a.m.n'd house fit for a gentleman?

WAITER. Why, sir, not much--the army eats us out of house and home. We have some very excellent fresh bear meat, sir.

PENDRAGON. Bear meat! Why, what the devil, fellow, do you take me for a Chickasaw, or an Esquimau? Bear meat! the honourable captain Pendragon, who never ate anything more gross than a cutlet at Molly's chop-house, and who lived on pigeons' livers at Very's, in Paris, offered bear meat in North America! I'll put that down in my travels.

WAITER. Why, sir, it is considered here a great delicacy.

PENDRAGON. The devil it is! Then pray, sir, what are your ordinary fares, if bear's meat is considered a delicacy?