FRANK

A modest place, our quiet little inn.
Surprising spot, perhaps, for plots to spin,
For travelers are weary from the road,
And seek their rest within our sweet abode.
But revolution’s winds outside our walls
Inspire argument within these halls.

            (The DUKE and the COUNT enter and argue)

The proud, colonial Americans
And Europeans fight -- not yet with guns.
But this dispute is more than politics:
It seems our guests are in another fix.
Impassioned politics have counterparts;
Affairs of state share stage with those of hearts.
Now meet our guests.  The first—

COUNT

            (stepping forward and interrupting)

                                                            The Count d’Argente!

FRANK

            (aside)

I like the French, but this one? Pas vraiment.

COUNT

I have a title!

DUKE

                        Bought.

COUNT

                                    Pardón?

DUKE

                                                A waste

Of money, if you want to know my taste.

FRANK

And here's a fellow fool of upper class,
That is to say --

COUNT

                          A very pompous ass!

FRANK

            (separating them)

This Englishman, the Duke of Bawlingbrook,
Is rich in title, poor in pocketbook.

COUNT

His pocket is as empty as his head!

DUKE

One more remark and yours, sir, will be dead.

FRANK

On Old World nonsense all day long the fight’ll
Rage and fume -- its money vs. title.
The point of all this struggle, you may say?

            (The CAPTAIN enters and struts about)

But first, let's meet a third who joins the fray.
It's --

CAPTAIN

            Captain Adam Stoutheart!

FRANK

                                                            Noble one.

En route to meet with Col. Washington.
He's most impressive-looking on his horse --
And every inch aware of it, of course.

            (The three men circle each other, distrustful)

And so, in a righteous, wrangling, rondelay,
The three debate the issues of the day.

CAPTAIN

We have to break our union with King George!

FRANK

But there's a private union they would forge.

            (MIRANDA enters.  All three men freeze and stare in abject longing)

And there's Miranda, mistress of this place.
Bright spirit, firm of figure, fair of face,
The loveliest in all the colonies.
It's she we gentlemen all vie to please.
In manly argument they mouth their quips,
But seek another usage for their lips.
Perhaps I am too frank --

COUNT, DUKE, CAPTAIN

                                                That's understood!

FRANK

For that's my name, you see, Frank Thoroughgood.
Indentured servant, and her father's friend,
He asked me to, when he had reached his end,
Watch over her, and as a friend I try,
Although my guide she seeks to nullify.
She’s strangely independent, for a lass,
Or woman now, I guess.  Well, let things pass,
Unfold and play, for as you've surely heard,
The picture tells it better than the word.
The Count, the Duke, the Mistress of the inn,
The Captain, me.  Now let the play begin!