WAITER. Why, truly, sir, this is but a young country, and we have to live upon what we can catch. Pray, would you fancy some 'possum fat and hominy?

PENDRAGON. Oh, shocking! begone, fellow--you'll throw me into a fever with your vile bill of fare. Get me a cup of tea--mix it, hyson and souchong, with cream and m.u.f.fins.

WAITER. We can't give you any of those things, sir.--However, you can have an excellent cup of sage tea, sweetened with honey.

PENDRAGON. Sage tea! Why, you rascal, do you intend to throw me into a perspiration by way of curing my hunger? or do you take me for a goose or a duck, that you intend stuffing me with sage? Begone, get out, you little deformed fellow! [_Exit WAITER._] I shall perish in this barbarous land--bear meat, 'possum fat, and sage tea! O dear St. James!

I wish I was snug in my old quarters. LaRole! [_Enter LAROLE._] Where the devil do you hide yourself in this d.a.m.n'd house? Why, I shall starve--there's nothing to eat, fit for a gentleman.

LAROLE. Oui, monsieur, dis is von d.a.m.n contree, I can find nosing to eat. I did look into all de pantri, mai parbleu, I find only a ver pretti demoiselle, mai, I could not eat her.

PENDRAGON. We must be off to the camp, LaRole, my quarters there will be infinitely more agreeable. I shall get the blue devils in this cursed place.

LAROLE. Vell, sair, I have all de devils ventre bleu, das you can imagine; dere is no politesse, no respect, nosing paid to me.

PENDRAGON. My fit of the blues is coming on me; sing me a song, LaRole.

LAROLE. A chanson? Vell, sair, I shall sing to frighten avay de littel blue devil; vill you I shall sing de English or de Francaise?

PENDRAGON. Oh, English, by all means--curse your foreign lingo.

LAROLE. Ahem! Ahem! you shall understand.

_Vat is dis dull town to me, Robin Hadair?

Vere is all de joys on earth, dat Make dis town_--

[_A bugle sounds without._

Ha! what is dat? who de devil intrup me in my chanson?

INDIAN CHIEF. [_Speaks without._] Have them all ready, with their rifles and tomahawks in order; [_Enters with another INDIAN._] and you, Coosewatchie, tell our priests to take their stand on yonder hill, and as my warriors pa.s.s them, examine whether they have fire in their eyes.

[_Exit INDIAN._] How now, who have we here?

PENDRAGON. [_Examining him with his gla.s.s._] Where the devil did this character come from? he's one of the fancy, I suppose.

INDIAN. Who and what are you?

PENDRAGON. Who am I? Why, sir, I am the honourable captain Pendragon, of his majesty's guards, formerly of the buffs.

INDIAN. [_Aside._] The officer who is to be under my command. Well sir, you have lately arrived from across the great waters: How did you leave my father, the King of England?

PENDRAGON. How! call my most gracious sovereign your father? Why, sir, you are the most familiar--impertinent--'sdeath! I shall choke--What the devil do you mean?

INDIAN. [_Coolly._] What should I mean, young man, but to inquire after the health of my father, who commands my respect, who has honoured me with his favours, and in whose cause I am now fighting.

PENDRAGON. Well, sir, if you have the honour to hold a commission from his majesty, I desire that you will speak of him with proper awe, and not call him your father, but your gracious master.

INDIAN. Young man, the Indian warrior knows no master but the Great Spirit, whose voice is heard in thunder, and whose eye is seen in the lightning's flash; free as air, we bow the knee to no man; our forests are our home, our defence is our arms, our sustenance the deer and the elk, which we run down. White men encroach upon our borders, and drive us into war; we raise the tomahawk against your enemies, because your king has promised us protection and supplies. We fight for freedom, and in that cause, the great king and the poor Indian start upon equal terms.

PENDRAGON. A very clever spoken fellow, pon honour; I'll patronise him.

LAROLE. Parbleu, he is von very sensible sauvage; vill you take von pinch snuff?

INDIAN. Pshaw!

LAROLE. He say pshaw, I see he is born in de voods.

PENDRAGON. And are you prepared to fan these Yankees? We shall flog them without much fatigue, I understand.

INDIAN. Not so fast, young soldier; these pale-faced enemies of ours fight with obstinacy; accustomed to a hardy life, to liberty and laws, they are not willing to relinquish those blessings on easy terms; if we conquer them, it must be by no moderate exertions: it will demand force and cunning.

PENDRAGON. Oh, dry dogs, I suppose, not to be caught napping; well, I'm up to them, we'll fan them in high style; the ragged nabobs, I understand, are not far off, and our troops are in fine preservation.

INDIAN. True, preparation must be made to meet them. You are under my orders.

PENDRAGON. The devil I am!

INDIAN. Aye, sir; your general, at my request, has ordered you here to take command of a company of my warriors; but you must not appear in that dress: change it quickly, or they will not be commanded by you; they are men, and fight under the orders of men.

PENDRAGON. Change my dress! why what the devil do you mean, sir?

INDIAN. Mean? that you should appear in the ranks like a warrior, and not like a rabbit trussed for dressing--off with these garments, which give neither pleasure to the eye nor ease to the limbs--put on moccasins, wrap a blanket around you, put rings through your nose and ears, feathers in your head, and paint yourself like a soldier, with vermilion.

PENDRAGON. Why, this is the most impertinent and presuming savage in the wilds of North America. Harkee, sir, I'd have you to know, that I am a man of fashion, and one of the fancy--formerly of the buffs, nephew of a peer of the realm, and will be a member of parliament, in time; an officer of great merit and great services, Mr.--Red Jacket. Paint my face, and fight without clothes? I desire, sir, that you will please to take notice, that I fought at Badahoz with the immortal Wellington, and had the honour to be wounded, and promoted, and had a medal for my services in that affair, Mr.--Split-log. Put rings in my nose? a man of taste, and the _ne plus ultra_ of Bond-street, the very mirror of fashion and elegance? Sir, I beg you to observe, that I am not to be treated in this manner--I shall resent this insult. Damme, I shall report you to the commander-in-chief at the Horse Guards, and have you courtmartialled for unfashionable deportment--Mr.--Walk-in-the-Water.

INDIAN. Come, come, sir, enough of this trifling; I do not understand it; you have heard my orders--obey them, or, after the battle, I'll roast you before a slow fire!

[_Exit._

LAROLE. O le barbare! O de dam sauvage! dis is de most impertinent dog in de vorld. Roast before de fire! Parbleu, mon maitre, ve are not de littel pig.

PENDRAGON. I'm horrified! lost in amazement! but I'll resent it. Damme, I'll caricature him.

LAROLE. Oh, I vish I vas fight encore at Saragossa, vis mi lor Villainton; par example, I did get some hard tumps, mai I did get plenti to eat; but ici I ave nosing but de little bear to mange.

PENDRAGON. Come along--courage, LaRole. We'll fan the Yankee Doodles in our best style, and then get a furlough, and be off to White-Hall, and the rings in our noses will afford anecdotes for the bon-ton for a whole year. Allons.

[_Exeunt._

SCENE II. _The American Camp at daybreak. The drum and fife plays the reveille. Sentinels on duty before the tents._

_LENOX enters from the tent on the right, GENERAL and ADELA from the left._

LENOX. Good morning, general; you are "stirring with the lark"--and you also, Adela.

GENERAL. The times require the utmost vigilance, Lenox: the enemy cannot escape a battle now, and we must be prepared at all points to meet him.

Decision and energy cannot fail to promote success.

ADELA. And what is to become of me, father, in the battle? Am I to ride the old trooper again, and run the risk of having the tip of my nose carried away by a musket ball, and left on the field of battle in all my glory?