There's a breathless hush in the close to-night
Ten to make and the match to win—
A bumping pitch and a blinding light,
An hour to play and the last man in.
And it's not for the sake of a ribboned coat
Or the selfish hope of a season's fame,
But his captain's hand on his shoulder smote.
[Action: The captain steps up to the batsman, puts his hand on his shoulder, and says to him urgently—]
"Play up! Play up! And play the game!"
Scene II.: Tableau. Soldiers in a hard-fought fight retreating—a young officer among them.