reat Napoleon passed--

THE DUKE.

He always rode
Over a battle-field.

THE OLD MAN.

The Emperor stopped
And had me cared for by his leach--

THE DUKE.

Ivan.

THE OLD MAN.

So, if his son is weary of Vienna,
I'll help him go.--My arm--before his eyes!

FLAMBEAU.

It isn't everybody has the honor
Of having limbs off in Napoleon's presence.

THE OLD MAN.

'Twas war-time; so we fought.

FLAMBEAU.

We died.

THE OLD MAN.

_We_ died.

FLAMBEAU.

We marched.

THE OLD MAN.

_We_ marched.

FLAMBEAU.

We fired into the haze.

THE OLD MAN.

_We_ fired.

FLAMBEAU.

Some grimy officer rode up.
And roared, "We've conquered!"

THE OLD MAN.

So he roared to us.

FLAMBEAU.

What?--So he did.

[_Pointing to the_ DUKE.]

Suppose he heard!

THE DUKE.

I hear.

THE OLD MAN.

Bah! My geraniums flourish.

FLAMBEAU.

Shouldn't wonder.
For on this spot eleven drummer-boys--

THE DUKE.

Eleven drummer-boys--?

FLAMBEAU.

I see them now!
Eleven bullet-heads, as like as peas,
Between the flapping of their foolish ears,
Who marched, they knew not whence, nor why, nor whither,
But gayly marched and rolled their rataplan!
We used to chaff them, for their funny ways
Made them the darlings of the sutler's wife.
But when they beat the charge like little rabbits--
Eleven drums with two-and-twenty sticks--
They set our bayonets thrilling with their thunder;
The quivering zigzags seemed to cry aloud,
"Our lightning's not in vain!"--Well, on this spot,
A brazen devil hiccoughed fire and steel
And took them in the flank; yes! all the eleven!
But, by the Lord! you should have seen the woman!
She gathered up her apron like a gleaner,
And madly gleaned the little ebony drumsticks.

[_He clears his throat._]

Only to speak of it gives me a cold--!

[_He picks a red geranium._]

Here's how to make a mere geranium
A ribbon of the Legion: keep one petal.
What? You look well upon my velvet lining?

[_To the_ DUKE.]

Is this what you bestowed upon me, Sire?

THE DUKE.

I gave a phantom--

FLAMBEAU.