War is expensive—’tis a glorious war,
A war of honour, and must be supported.—
Three groats a-head.
Tyler. There, three for my own head,
Three for my wife’s!—What will the State tax next?
Col. You have a daughter.
Tyler. She is below the age—not yet fifteen.
Col. You would evade the tax.—
Tyler. Sir Officer,
I have paid you fairly what the law demands.