Classic Poem

SCENE V.

FILBERT.

Let's drink before we part — — for sorrow's dry.
To Tim 's safe passage —

1 COUNTRYMAN .

— — — I'll drink too.

2 COUNTRYMAN .

— — — And I.

PEASCOD.

Stay, let me pledge — 'tis my last earthly liquor.
— — When I am dead you'll bind my grave with wicker.

1 COUNTRYMAN

He was a special ploughman — —

2 COUNTRYMAN .

— — — Harrow'd well!

3 COUNTRYMAN .

And at our may-pole ever bore the bell!

PEASCOD.

Say, is it fitting in this very field,
Where I so oft have reap'd, so oft have till'd;
This field, where from my youth I've been a carter,
I, in this field, should die for a deserter?

FILBERT.

'Tis hard, 'tis wondrous hard! —

SERGEANT.

— — — Zooks, here 's a pother.
Strip him; I'd stay no longer for my brother.

PEASCOD.

Take you my 'bacco-box — my neckcloth, you.
To our kind Vicar send this bottle-skrew.
But wear these breeches, Tom ; they're quite bran-new.

FILBERT.

Farewell — —

1 COUNTRYMAN .

— — — B'ye, Tim . — —

2 COUNTRYMAN .

— — — B'ye. Tim .

3 COUNTRYMAN .

— — — Adieu.

4 COUNTRYMAN .

— — — Adieu.