Mrs. D. Oh, sirs! Oh, sirs! don't go away—I want you to pick him up again.
King's Man. Well, ma'am, we may be late for the Coronation, but anything to oblige. [To soldiers.] About turn! [They turn back.] First file, take hold of the boy's arms! Second file, catch hold of his legs! Now—all together, on to the wall—lift! [They try to pick him up.] I'm sorry, ma'am. We can't move him—he's rather stout, you see.
Mrs. P. What did I say! If only it was my Billy now.
[More music heard.
King's Man. Here's another regiment coming—perhaps they can do it.
[Enter more soldiers.
King's Man. If you please, Colonel——
Colonel. Halt! What is it, my man?
King's Man. There's a young feller there fallen off the wall—we can't get him up again, sir.
Colonel. What! All you King's horses and all you King's men can't do a simple thing like that! Preposterous! Ridiculous! [He twirls his moustache and is very warlike.] Sergeant-Major!