FREDERICK.
Both good and bad, mother. To day plenty—to-morrow not so much—And sometimes nothing at all.
AGATHA.
You have not written to me this long while.
FREDERICK.
Dear mother, consider the great distance I was from you!—And then, in the time of war, how often letters miscarry.—Besides——
AGATHA.
No matter now I see you. But have you obtained your discharge?
FREDERICK.
Oh, no, mother—I have leave of absence only for two months; and that for a particular reason. But I will not quit you so soon, now I find you are in want of my assistance.
AGATHA.
No, no, Frederick; your visit will make me so well, that I shall in a very short time recover strength to work again; and you must return to your regiment when your furlough is expired. But you told me leave of absence was granted you for a particular reason.—What reason?
FREDERICK.
When I left you five years ago, you gave me every thing you could afford, and all you thought would be necessary for me. But one trifle you forgot, which was, the certificate of my birth from the church-book.—You know in this country there is nothing to be done without it. At the time of parting from you, I little thought it could be of that consequence to me which I have since found it would have been. Once I became tired of a soldier’s life, and in the hope I should obtain my discharge, offered myself to a master to learn a profession; but his question was, “Where is your certificate from the church-book of the parish in which you were born?” It vexed me that I had not it to produce, for my comrades laughed at my disappointment. My captain behaved kinder, for he gave me leave to come home to fetch it—and you see, mother, here I am.
[During his speech Agatha is confused and agitated.
AGATHA.
So, you are come for the purpose of fetching your certificate from the church-book.
FREDERICK.
Yes, mother.