Captain G.—What's the hurry?
Captain M.—You've got to be there first.
Captain G.—To be stared at?
Captain M.—Exactly. You're part of the show. Where's the burnisher? Your spurs are in a shameful state.
Captain G. (gruffly).—Jack, I be damned if you shall do that for me.
Captain M. (more gruffly).—Dry up and get dressed! If I choose to clean your spurs, you're under my orders.
Captain G. dresses, M. follows suit.
Captain M. (critically, walking round).—M'yes, you'll do. Only don't look so like a criminal. Ring, gloves, fees—that's all right for me. Let your moustache alone. Now, if the tats are ready, we'll go.
Captain G. (nervously).—It's much too soon. Let's light up! Let's have a peg! Let's
Captain M.—Let's make bally asses of ourselves.
Bells (without).—Good—peo—ple—all
To prayers—we call.
Captain M.—There go the bells! Come on—unless you'd rather not. (They ride off.}
Bells.—
We honour the King
And Brides joy do bring—
Good tidings we tell
And ring the Dead's knell.
Captain G. (dismounting at the door of the Church).—I say, aren't we much too soon? There are no end of people inside. I say, aren't we much too late? Stick by me Jack! What the devil do I do?
Captain M.—Strike an attitude at the head of the aisle and wait for Her. (G. groans as M. wheels him into position before three hundred eyes.)
Captain M. (imploringly).—Gaddy, if you love me, for pity's sake, for the Honour of the Regiment, stand up! Chuck yourself into your uniform! Look like a man! I've
