Officer. They're like caterpillars; as numerous as the locusts of Egypt.
Lord Boston. Look out, Captain, God help you, look out.
Officer. I do, sir.
Lord Boston. What do you see now? Hark! what dreadful noise!
One of the Guard. [Aside.] How damn'd afraid he is.
Another of the Guard. [Aside.] He's one of your chimney corner Generals—an old granny.
Officer. If I mistake not, our troops are fast retreating; their fire slackens; the noise increases.
Lord Boston. Oh, Captain, don't say so!
Officer. 'Tis true, sir, they're running—the enemy shout victory.
Lord Boston. Upon your honour?—say—