SCENE III.
Outside of the Royal Tent.
Enter Fool.
Fool. Queen Margaret has sheltered me from the peltings of fortune, this many a year. Now the pelting has damaged my shelter; but still I stick to it. More simpleton I!—to stand, like a thin-clad booby, in a hard shower, under an unroofed penthouse. Truly, for a fool of my experience, I have but little wisdom: and yet a camp suits well with my humour; take away the fighting—the sleeping in a field—the bad fare—the long marches, and the short pay—and a soldier's is a rare merry life.—Here come two more musterers—troth we have need of them—for, considering the goodness of the cause, they drop in as sparingly as mites into a poor's box.
Enter Adeline and Gregory.
Adeline. Tremble not now, Gregory, for your life!
Gregory. Lord, madam, that is the only thing I do tremble for: if I had as many lives as a cat, I must borrow a tenth, I fancy, to carry me out of this place.
Adeline. Pooh! pr'ythee—we are here among friends. Did you not mark the courtesy of the centinels; who, upon signifying our intentions, bid us pass on, till we should find a leader, to whom we might tender our services?
Gregory. Ah! and there he is, I suppose. [Pointing to the Fool.] Mercy on us! he's a terrible looking fellow—his coat has been so pepper'd with musket shot in the wars, that 'tis patch'd from the very top to the bottom.
Adeline. Tut, tut, man! your fears have made you blind; this motley gentleman's occupation has nothing terrible in it, I'll answer for it—we will accost him. How now, fellow?