General. [To LaRole.] And you, sir, it appears, are in disguise, unlike a civilized soldier; you have been taken in the ranks with Indians.
LaRole. Sair, mon general, you sall here vat I am goin to say. I am von Frenchiman; in my contree every Frenchiman he is von soldat.
General. Well?
LaRole. Begar, sair, I must fight vid somebody, because it is my bisness. In de Egypt I did fight 'gainst de Turc; in Europe I did fight de whole vorld vis de Grand Napoleon, and in Amérique I did fight against you vid myself. Mais, you take a me de prisonier, I can fight no more; I vill trow myself on de protection of dis contree; I vill no more fight contree de Yankee Doodel; I vill stay here and eat de ros beef vid you, and mon capitain là, he may go to de devil.
General. Admirably concluded. And you, sir, what can we do to lighten your captivity?
Pendragon. Why sir, if war was not my profession, I'd sell out; but it's always my maxim to obey orders, whatever they may be: therefore, shall be happy to have a brush with you in war, and equally happy to crack a bottle of Burgundy with you in peace; a flash in the pan in one way, or a puff from a segar in another; a bullet under the ribs in battle, or a country dance in a ball-room; all's one to me, if it's only fashionably conducted.
General. Well, let's into my tent and partake of some refreshment. We may not always meet as enemies.
Pendragon. [To Adela.] Allow me the felicity of your little finger. [Aside.] She's struck with my figure, split me! LaRole, take notice.
LaRole. Oh, you are de littel devil among de ladies.
[Exeunt.