(时间,中午)。汉弗莱:威廉，你没看到灼热的太阳已经跑了一半了吗?野蛮人把他的轻舟推到岸边，带着他的鱼货匆匆回家。让我们暂时离开这片顽固不化的土地，去吃晚饭，歇一歇!威廉:同意。你那树的紫色树胶为病人的疾苦提供了一剂灵丹妙药，它那浓荫的枝干为我们提供了一个阴凉的隐蔽处，遮蔽了正午的酷热。啊汉弗莱!现在，在古老的英格兰海岸上，疲惫的劳动者结束了早晨的工作，樵夫放下了他那量好了的斧头，坐在橡树下，饱餐了一顿，喝了清凉的林水。没有清凉的溪水向我们蜿蜒而行，白天没有欢乐的家宴给我们，罪犯的名字，流浪者的衣服，我们整天辛劳，整夜绝望。啊，威廉! labouring up the furrowed ground I used to love the village clock's dull sound, Rejoice to hear my morning toil was done, And trudge it homewards when the clock went one. 'Twas ere I turn'd a soldier and a sinner! Pshaw! curse this whining--let us fall to dinner. WILLIAM: I too have loved this hour, nor yet forgot Each joy domestic of my little cot. For at this hour my wife with watchful care Was wont each humbler dainty to prepare, The keenest sauce by hunger was supplied And my poor children prattled at my side. Methinks I see the old oak table spread, The clean white trencher and the good brown bread, The cheese my daily food which Mary made, For Mary knew full well the housewife's trade: The jug of cyder,--cyder I could make, And then the knives--I won 'em at the wake. Another has them now! I toiling here Look backward like a child and drop a tear. HUMPHREY: I love a dismal story, tell me thine, Meantime, good Will, I'll listen as I dine. I too my friend can tell a piteous story When I turn'd hero how I purchas'd glory. WILLIAM: But Humphrey, sure thou never canst have known The comforts of a little home thine own: A home so snug, So chearful too as mine, 'Twas always clean, and we could make it fine; For there King Charles's golden rules were seen, And there--God bless 'em both--the King and Queen. The pewter plates our garnish'd chimney grace So nicely scour'd, you might have seen your face; And over all, to frighten thieves, was hung Well clean'd, altho'but seldom us'd, my gun. Ah! that damn'd gun! I took it down one morn-- A desperate deal of harm they did my corn! Our testy Squire too loved to save the breed, So covey upon covey eat my seed. I mark'd the mischievous rogues, and took my aim, I fir'd, they fell, and--up the keeper came. That cursed morning brought on my undoing, I went to prison and my farm to ruin. Poor Mary! for her grave the parish paid, No tomb-stone tells where her cold corpse is laid! My children--my dear boys-- HUMPHREY: Come--Grief is dry-- You to your dinner--to my story I. To you my friend who happier days have known And each calm comfort of a home your own, This is bad living: I have spent my life In hardest toil and unavailing strife, And here (from forest ambush safe at least) To me this scanty pittance seems a feast. I was a plough-boy once; as free from woes And blithesome as the lark with whom I rose. Each evening at return a meal I found And, tho'my bed was hard, my sleep was sound. One Whitsuntide, to go to fair, I drest Like a great bumkin in my Sunday's best; A primrose posey in my hat I stuck And to the revel went to try my luck. From show to show, from booth to booth I stray, See stare and wonder all the live-long day. A Serjeant to the fair recruiting came Skill'd in man-catching to beat up for game; Our booth he enter'd and sat down by me;-- Methinks even now the very scene I see! The canvass roof, the hogshead's running store, The old blind fiddler seated next the door, The frothy tankard passing to and fro And the rude rabble round the puppet-show; The Serjeant eyed me well--the punch-bowl comes, And as we laugh'd and drank, up struck the drums-- And now he gives a bumper to his Wench-- God save the King, and then--God damn the French. Then tells the story of his last campaign. How many wounded and how many slain, Flags flying, cannons roaring, drums a-beating, The English marching on, the French retreating,-- "Push on--push on my lads! they fly before ye, "March on to riches, happiness and glory!" At first I wonder'd, by degrees grew bolder, Then cried--"tis a fine thing to be a soldier!" "Aye Humphrey!" says the Serjeant--"that's