SECOND YAGER.
The will of a man is his fortune alone.
CITIZEN.
His grandmother's shop will soon be his own.
FIRST YAGER.
Pish! traffic in matches! who would do't?
CITIZEN.
A wine-shop his grandfather leaves, to boot,
A cellar with twenty casks of wine.
TRUMPETER.
These with his comrades he'll surely share.
SECOND YAGER.
Hark ye, lad—be a camp-brother of mine.
CITIZEN.
A bride he leaves sitting, in tears, apart.
FIRST YAGER.
Good—that now's a proof of an iron heart.
CITIZEN.
His grandmother's sure to die with sorrow.
SECOND YAGER.
The better—for then he'll inherit to-morrow.