on't sail, lest the wind should blow,
We shall have marched for nothing, O!
Right fol-lol!

We be the King's men, hale and hearty,
Marching to meet one Buonaparty;
If he be sea-sick, says "No, no!"
We shall have marched for nothing, O!
Right fol-lol!

[The soldiers draw aside, and the coach passes on.]

SECOND PASSENGER

Is there truth in it that Bonaparte wrote a letter to the King last
month?

FIRST PASSENGER

Yes, sir. A letter in his own hand, in which he expected the King
to reply to him in the same manner.

SOLDIERS [continuing, as they are left behind]

We be the King's men, hale and hearty,
Marching to meet one Buonaparty;
Never mind, mates; we'll be merry, though
We may have marched for nothing, O!
Right fol-lol!

THIRD PASSENGER

And was Boney's letter friendly?

FIRST PASSENGER

Certainly, sir. He requested peace with the King.

THIRD PASSENGER

And why shouldn't the King reply in the same manner?

FIRST PASSENGER

What! Encourage this man in an act of shameless presumption, and
give him the pleasure of considering himself the equal of the King
of England--whom he actually calls his brother!

THIRD PASSENGER

He must be taken for what he is, not for what he was; and if he calls
King George his brother it doesn't speak badly for his friendliness.

FIRST PASSENGER

Whether or no, the King, rightly enough, did not reply in person,
but through Lord Mulgrave our Foreign Minister, to the effect that
his Britannic Majesty cannot give a specific answer till he has
communicated with the Continental powers.

THIRD PASSENGER

Both the manner and the matter of the reply are British; but a huge
mistake.

FIRST PASSENGER

Sir, am I to deem you a friend of Bonaparte, a traitor to your
country---

THIRD PASSENGER

Damn my wig, sir, if I'll be called a traitor by you or any Court
sycophant at all at all!

[He unpacks a case of pistols.]

SECOND PASSENGER

Gentlemen forbear, forbear! Should such differences be suffered to
arise on a spot where we may, in less than three months, be fighting
for our very existence? This is foolish, I say. Heaven alone, who
reads the secrets of this man's heart, can tell what his meaning