University of Virginia Library

SCENE II.

—Another part of the Camp.
Enter Hans and Rodolph.
Hans.
And you have been in battle?

Rod.
Yes.

Hans.
How often?

Rod.
A dozen times.

Hans.
And never got a wound?

Rod.
Only a scratch.

Hans.
I would not mind a scratch,—
I would not mind a dozen scratches! If
It went no further, bayonets and swords
To me were things I'd take no more account of
Than pins and needles. Where, though, was the scratch?

Rod.
In the left side—a bayonet grazed me there.

Hans.
Odds, that was near! Wasn't it? Very near!
I should not mind one in the foot or leg,
The hand or arm—but when you come to that,
Fighting is very dangerous! I don't think
That I should like to be a soldier.

Rod.
Yet
You are the very cut of one.

Hans.
The cut?
Am I though?

Rod.
One could see it with half an eye.

Hans.
It must be very plain.

Rod.
You were intended,
By nature, for a soldier.

Hans.
Isn't it strange
That nature never told me so?

Rod.
She left you
To find it out yourself, it is so plain.

Hans.
And I to live to five-and-twenty years
And not to see it—No!—Nor any one
To tell me on't till you did!

Rod.
Friends are few;
One may go far ere find one.

Hans.
Tell me what
You mean by the cut of a soldier, that hereafter
I know myself.

Rod.
A sharp eye—a smart nose.

Hans.
Have I such eye and nose?

Rod.
You have.

Hans.
Indeed?
I never dreamt on't! I have a smart nose
And a sharp eye? Now would I give a crown
That this were told to Esther! So! Go on.

Rod.
You have a pair of shoulders.

Hans.
La! you jest!
Speak you the truth now? mean you what you say?
Have I indeed a pair of shoulders?

Rod.
Yes.

Hans.
'Tis plain I never knew myself before!
A sharp eye, a smart nose, and pair of shoulders
I wonder what would Esther say to this!
Anything more?

Rod.
Ay marry! many a thing.
A chest that's high and full—a front-rank chest.

Hans.
Never mind that—I like the rear rank better.
Were I a soldier, I would always fight
In the rear rank—I could do wonders there—
Incredible and never-heard-of things!
What call you those who fight upon their knees
And stomachs, or ensconce themselves behind
Hedges and trees, and when the enemy
Advances, make a run of it, and leave
The rest to fight the battle out?

Rod.
We call them
Sharp-shooters.

Hans.
That's the very name! I'll be
A sharp-shooter. A sharp-shooter had need
Have a sharp eye, and I have one, you know:
Haven't I? I'm contented with a chest
That's high and full, but not a front-rank one:
And so a sharp-shooter if anything!
We've settled that—Go on—Were Esther here!
She little dreams that Hans is such a man!

Rod.
Your limbs are set right under you.

Hans.
They are? You do not say so?
And have I got straight legs with all the rest?
Odds what a man I am! I think I'll be
A soldier.

Rod.
You'd be sure of it, but once
You saw yourself dress'd in your uniform.

Hans.
'Twould make a little change.

Rod.
A little, say you!
'Twould make a hero of you.

Hans.
I should like
To see myself a hero! What was that?

[A shot without.
Rod.
Only a shot.

Hans.
O, was it nothing more?
A shot! I thought it was something else! Who minds
A shot?

Rod.
'Tis clear you do not.

Hans.
No—not I!
I fired a shot once when I was a boy,
And kill'd a sparrow—as I live I did!
I to be startled by a shot! [Shot again.]
Odds life!
That's shameful waste of powder, and in time
Of war too.

Rod.
Here! put on this cap of mine,
And show me how you look in it.

Hans.
I please you?

Rod.
Gods, sir, you make a show more warlike far
Than would a whole platoon with shoulder'd arms
And bayonets fix'd.

Hans.
What were I did you add
My body to my head!

Rod.
To go by rule,
You would be worth a regiment! How fine
Your eye looks when it rolls! Here, take my sword
And flourish it.

Hans.
What think'st me match to now?

Rod.
A whole brigade—Foot—Horse—Artillery,
To sweep a field!

Hans.
I'll be a soldier.

Esther—entering and aside.
Esther.
Hans!

Rod.
Then take the bounty.

Esther.
Take it if he dares!

Hans.
I never said I'd take it.

Rod.
But you said
You'd be a soldier.

Hans.
Yes; with Esther's leave.

Esther.
O! was it so?—What do you with that cap?
Take't off, or I will put one on your head
Will fit it better! Flourishing a sword!
Have you a mind the boy should cut himself,
You man of war?—Give back the sword and cap.
Sir, you may sell your own limbs if you like,
You know the worth of them; but for the lad's,
They're not his own; and not for market, sir.

Rod.
And is the bargain off?

Hans.
And don't you hear
What Esther says?—It were a valiant man
Would gainsay her!—I would not for my head!

Rod.
[Looking alternately at Esther and Hans.]
I see!

Hans.
We'll talk of it another time
When she's not by.

Rod.
[To Esther.]
Well I'll let off the lad,
So that I get a kiss?

Hans.
[Placing himself between them.]
You get not that!
Nay, an I die for it, you get not that!
Nay, an you come with swords and bayonets,
Bullets and cannon-balls, you get not that!

Esther.
Hans is a man!—Take my advice, and know
[To Rod.
A lion without proving of his fangs.
Touch me! and better for you you had been
In prison-keeping than at large to-day.
Man never kiss'd me yet, sir.

Hans.
Only Hans.

Esther.
Nor e'er shall kiss me, sir!

Hans.
Save I'm the man.

Esther.
I like a smirking swaggering turkey-cock,
That eyes a woman, as he need but look
And swallow her!

Rod.
I'll see your spark again.

[Goes out.
Esther.
See he don't prove a fire and scorch you, sir!
Hans, you have acted like a man to-day,
You're a good lad; but you were never made
Match for a world like this, to get through it,
By yourself.—A pity 'tis you have not aunt,
Sister, nor mother, that would look to you,
Nor honest woman that might serve for such,
And, maybe, love you better!

Hans.
Esther!—Esther!

Esther.
Why, bless me, Hans! you're always saying that,
'Tis very plain there's something you would have,
But what that something is, not quite so clear;
Speak out, Hans, and take heart—I cannot read
The stars, you know; I'm not a conjurer,
Or a diviner, or a doctor, who
Finds hidden ailments out. I'm nothing but
An honest simple woman, that would do
A kind turn for thee, knew she but the way;
So want'st thou anything, speak out, good Hans.

Hans.
I want a wife.

Esther.
You do not say so!

Hans.
Yes,
I do.—Now, wanted you a husband, Esther,
How well we should be match'd!

Esther.
I want a husband!—
But, then, you want a wife—that makes a change.
And though I do not want a husband, Hans,
Yet I might bring myself, you know, to take one,
To save the wits or life of a poor lad
Like you, that has no mother, sister, aunt,
To look to him! Know you where bides the chaplain
O' the regiment?

Hans.
I do.

Esther.
I'll talk with him.
Do you not lead the way?
What, are you not in haste to get a wife?
I thought you were.

Hans.
I am; but am so pleased,
I know not what to do!—to go or stay,
To laugh or cry, to talk or hold my tongue.

Esther.
Poor honest lad! A pity 'twere the world
Should take thee in! Thou ought'st to have a wife,
If but to look to thee! 'Twould not be right
To leave thee without one, a day, an hour;
And such a friend as I'm to thee, at hand.
Would it, Hans? The poor lad! he's quite confounded!
How interesting does he look!—Come, Hans!
You know the way to the chaplain's—I believe—
I think—I'm almost sure I'll take you, Hans!

[They go out, Esther leaning upon him.