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cap with hackle plume and accoutrements, with epaulette, gilt chevrons
and sabretache, his breast bright with medals, toes the line. He gives
the pilgrim warrior’s sign of the knights templars.)
major tweedy
(Growls gruffly.) Rorke’s Drift! Up, guards, and at them! Mahal shalal
hashbaz.
private carr
I’ll do him in.
private compton
(Waves the crowd back.) Fair play, here. Make a bleeding butcher’s shop of
the bugger.
(Massed bands blare Garryowen and God save the king.)
cissy caffrey
They’re going to fight. For me!
cunty kate
The brave and the fair.
biddy the clap
Methinks yon sable knight will joust it with the best.
cunty kate
(Blushing deeply.) Nay, Madam. The gules doublet and merry Saint
George for me!
stephen
The harlot’s cry from street to street
Shall weave old Ireland’s windingsheet.
private carr
(Loosening his belt, shouts.) I’ll wring the neck of any fucking bastard says
a word against my bleeding fucking king.
bloom
(Shakes Cissy Caffrey’s shoulders.) Speak, you! Are you struck dumb? You