and shut the door
after you.

[_Exit TOM._

SCENE VII. _In Boston. A council of war after the battle of
Bunker's-Hill._

LORD BOSTON, ADMIRAL TOMBSTONE, ELBOW ROOM, MR. CAPER, GENERAL CLINTON,
EARL PERCY.

LORD BOSTON. I fully expected, with the help of the last reinforcement
you brought me over, and the advice and assistance of three accomplish'd
and experienc'd Generals, I should have been able to have subdued the
rebels, and gain'd immortal laurels to myself--have return'd to Old
England like a Roman Consul, with a score or two of the rebel Generals,
Colonels and Majors, to have grac'd my triumph.

ELBOW ROOM. You have been vastly disappointed, sir--you must not look
for laurels (unless wild ones) nor expect triumphs (unless sham ones)
from your own victories or conquests in America.

LORD BOSTON. And yet, not more disappointed than you, sir--witness your
thrasonical speeches on your first landing, provided you had but elbow
room--and Mr. Caper too, to bring over Monsieur Rigadoon, the
dancing-master, and Signor Rosin, the fiddler forsooth; he thought, no
doubt, to have country danc'd the rebels out of their liberty with some
of his new cuts--with his soft music to have fascinated their wives and
daughters, and with some of 'em, no doubt, to have taken the tour of
America, with his reg'ment of fine, sleek, prancing horses, that have
been feeding this six months on codfish tails; he thought to have grown
fat with feasting, dancing, and drinking tea with the Ladies, instead of
being the skeleton he now appears to be--not to mention any thing of his
letter, wherein he laments Tom's absence; for[9] "had Tom been with him
(he says) he wou'd have been out of danger, and quite secure from the
enemy's shot."

PERCY. I think, Gentlemen, we're even with you now; you have had your
mirth and frolic with us, for dancing "Yankee Doodle," as you called it,
from Lexington.--I find you have had a severer dance, a brave sweat at
Bunker's Hill, and have been obliged to pay the fiddler in the bargain.

CLINTON. However, Gentlemen, I approve (at proper seasons) of a little
joking, yet I can by no means think (as we have had such bad success
with our crackers) that this is a proper time to throw your squibs.

LORD BOSTON. I grant you, sir, this is a very improper time for joking;
for my part, I was only speaking as to my own thoughts, when Mr. Elbow
Room made remarks,