SCENE I

_A field near Eton College;--several boys crossing backwards and forwards in the background. In front,_ TALBOT, WHEELER, LORD JOHN _and_ BURSAL.

_Talbot._ Fair play, Wheeler! Have at 'em, my boy! There they stand, fair game! There's Bursal there, with his _dead_ forty-five votes at command; and Lord John with his--how many live friends?

_Lord John_ (_coolly_). Sir, I have fifty-six friends, I believe.

_Talb._ Fifty-six friends, his lordship believes--Wheeler inclusive no doubt.

_Lord J._ That's as hereafter may be.

_Wheeler._ Hereafter! Oh, fie, my _lud_! You know your own Wheeler has, from the first minute he ever saw you, been your fast friend.

_Talb._ Your fast friend from the first minute he ever saw you, my lord! That's well hit, Wheeler; stick to that; stick fast. Fifty-six friends, Wheeler _in_clusive, hey, my lord! hey, my _lud_!

_Lord J._ Talbot _ex_clusive, I find, contrary to my expectations.

_Talb._ Ay, contrary to your expectations, you find that Talbot is not a dog that will lick the dust: but then there's enough of the true spaniel breed to be had for whistling for; hey, Wheeler?

_Bursal_ (_aside to Wheeler_). A pretty electioneerer. So much the better for you, Wheeler. Why, unless he bought a vote, he'd never win one, if he talked from this to the day of judgment.

_Wheeler_ (_aside to Bursal_). And as he has no money to buy votes--he! he! he!--we are safe enough.

_Talb._ That's well done, Wheeler; fight the by-battle there with Bursal, now you are sure of the main with Lord John.

_Lord J._ Sure! I never made Mr. Wheeler any promise yet.

_Wheel._ Oh, I ask no promise from his lordship; we are upon honour: I trust entirely to his lordship's good nature and generosity, and to his regard for his own family; I having the honour, though distantly, to be related.

_Lord J._ Related! How, Wheeler?

_Wheel._ Connected, I mean, which is next door, as I may say, to being related. Related slipped out by mistake; I beg pardon, my Lord John.

_Lord J._ Related!--a strange mistake, Wheeler.

_Talb._ Overshot yourself, Wheeler; overshot yourself, by all that's awkward. And yet, till now, I always took you for '_a dead-shot at a yellow-hammer_.'[9]

[9] Young noblemen at Oxford wear yellow tufts at the tops of their caps. Hence their flatterers are said to be dead-shots at yellow-hammers.

_Wheel._ (_taking Bursal by the arm_). Bursal, a word with you. (_Aside to Bursal._) What a lump of family pride that Lord John is.

_Talb._ Keep out of my hearing, Wheeler, lest I should spoil sport. But never fear: you'll please Bursal sooner than I shall. I can't, for the soul of me, bring myself to say that Bursal's not purse-proud, and you can. Give you joy.

_Burs._ A choice electioneerer!--ha! ha! ha!

_Wheel._ (_faintly_). He! he! he!--a choice electioneerer, as you say.

(_Exeunt Wheeler and Bursal; manent Lord J. and Talbot._)

_Lord J._ There was a time, Talbot----

_Talb._ There was a time, my lord--to save trouble and a long explanation--there was a time when you liked Talbots better than spaniels; you understand me?

_Lord J._ I have found it very difficult to understand you of late, Mr. Talbot.

_Talb._ Yes, because you have used other people's understandings instead of your own. Be yourself, my lord. See with your own eyes, and hear with your own ears, and then you'll find me still, what I've been these seven years; not your under-strapper, your hanger-on, your flatterer, but your friend! If you choose to have me for a friend, here's my hand. I am your friend, and you'll not find a better.

_Lord J._ (_giving his hand_). You are a strange fellow, Talbot; I thought I never could have forgiven you for what you said last night.

_Talb._ What? for I don't keep a register of my sayings. Oh, it was something about gaming--Wheeler was flattering your taste for it, and he put me into a passion--I forget what I said. But, whatever it was, I'm sure it was well meant, and I believe it was well said.

_Lord J._ But you laugh at me sometimes to my face.

_Talb._ Would you rather I should laugh at you behind your back?

_Lord J._ But of all things in the world I hate to be laughed at. Listen to me, and don't fumble in your pockets while I'm talking to you.

_Talb._ I'm fumbling for--oh, here it is. Now, Lord John, I once did laugh at you behind your back, and what's droll enough, it was _at_ your back I laughed. Here's a caricature I drew of you--I really am sorry I did it; but 'tis best to show it to you myself.

_Lord J._ (_aside_). It is all I can do to forgive this. (_After a pause, he tears the paper._) I have heard of this caricature before; but I did not expect, Talbot, that you would come and show it to me yourself, Talbot, so handsomely, especially at such a time as this. Wheeler might well say you are a bad electioneerer.

_Talb._ Oh, hang it! I forgot my election, and your fifty-six friends.

_Enter_ RORY O'RYAN.

_Rory_ (_claps Talbot on the back_). Fifty-six friends, have you, Talbot? Say seven--fifty-seven, I mean; for I'll lay you a wager, you've forgot me; and that's a shame for you, too; for out of the whole posse-comitatus entirely now, you have not a stauncher friend than poor little Rory O'Ryan. And a good right he has to befriend you; for you stood by him when many who ought to have known better were hunting him down for a wild Irishman. Now that same wild Irishman has as much gratitude in him as any tame Englishman of them all. But don't let's be talking s_i_ntim_i_nt; for, for my share I'd not give a bogberry a bushel for s_i_ntim_i_nt, when I could get anything better.

_Lord J._ And pray, sir, what may a bogberry be?

_Rory._ Phoo! don't be playing the innocent, now. Where have you lived all your life (I ask pardon, my l_a_rd) not to know a bogberry when you see or hear of it? (_Turns to Talbot._) But what are ye standing idling here for? Sure, there's Wheeler, and Bursal along with him, canvassing out yonder at a terrible fine rate. And haven't I been huzzaing for you there till I'm hoarse? So I am, and just stepped away to suck an orange for my voice--(_sucks an orange_). I am a _thoroughgoing_ friend, at any rate.

_Talb._ Now, Rory, you are the best fellow in the world, and a _thoroughgoing_ friend; but have a care, or you'll get yourself and me into some scrape, before you have done with this violent _thoroughgoing_ work.

_Rory._ Never fear! never fear, man!--a warm _frind_ and a bitter enemy, that's my maxim.

_Talb._ Yes, but too warm a friend is as bad as a bitter enemy.

_Rory._ Oh, never fear me! I'm as cool as a cucumber all the time; and whilst they _tink_ I'm _tinking_ of nothing in life but making a noise, I make my own snug little remarks in prose and verse, as--now my voice is after coming back to me, you shall hear, if you _plase_.

_Talb._ I do please.

_Rory._ I call it Rory's song. Now, mind, I have a verse for everybody--o' the leading lads, I mean; and I shall put 'em in or _lave_ 'em out, according to their inclinations and deserts, _wise-a-wee_ to you, my little _frind_. So you comprehend it will be Rory's song, with variations.

_Talbot and Lord John._ Let's have it; let's have it without further preface.

_Rory sings._

I'm true game to the last, and no _Wheeler_ for me.

_Rory._ There's a stroke, in the first place, for Wheeler,--you take it?

_Talb._ Oh yes, yes, we take it; go on.

_Rory sings._

I'm true game to the last, and no Wheeler for me. Of all birds, beasts, or fishes, that swim in the sea, Webb'd or finn'd, black or white, man or child, Whig or Tory, None but Talbot, O Talbot's the dog for Rory.

_Talb._ 'Talbot the dog' is much obliged to you.

_Lord J._ But if I have any ear, one of your lines is a foot too long, Mr. O'Ryan.

_Rory._ Phoo, put the best foot foremost for a _frind_. Slur it in the singing, and don't be quarrelling, anyhow, for a foot more or less. The more feet the better it will stand, you know. Only let me go on, and you'll come to something that will _plase_ you.

_Rory sings._

Then there's he with the purse that's as long as my arm.

_Rory._ That's Bursal, mind now, whom I mean to allude to in this verse.

_Lord J._ If the allusion's good, we shall probably find out your meaning.

_Talb._ On with you, Rory, and don't read us notes on a song.

_Lord J._ Go on, and let us hear what you say of Bursal.

_Rory sings._

Then there's he with the purse that's as long as my arm; His father's a tanner,--but then where's the harm? Heir to houses, and hunters, and horseponds in fee, Won't his skins sure soon buy him a pedigree?

_Lord J._ Encore! encore! Why, Rory, I did not think you could make so good a song.

_Rory._ Sure 'twas none of I made it--'twas Talbot here.

_Talb._ I!

_Rory_ (_aside_). Not a word: I'll make you a present of it: sure, then, it's your own.

_Talb._ I never wrote a word of it.

_Rory_ (_to Lord J._) Phoo, phoo! he's only denying it out of false modesty.

_Lord J._ Well, no matter who wrote it,--sing it again.

_Rory._ Be easy; so I will, and as many more verses as you will to the back of it. (_Winking at Talbot aside._) You shall have the credit of all. (_Aloud._) Put me in when I'm out, Talbot, and you (_to Lord John_) join--join.

_Rory sings, and Lord John sings with him._

Then there's he with the purse that's as long as my arm; His father's a tanner,--but then where's the harm? Heir to houses, and hunters, and horseponds in fee, Won't his skins sure soon buy him a pedigree? There's my lord with the back that never was bent----

(_Lord John stops singing; Talbot makes signs to Rory to stop; but Rory does not see him, and sings on._)

There's my lord with the back that never was bent; Let him live with his ancestors, I am content.

(_Rory pushes Lord J. and Talbot with his elbows._)

_Rory._ Join, join, both of ye--why don't you join? (_Sings._)

Who'll buy my Lord John? the arch fishwoman cried, A nice oyster shut up in a choice shell of pride.

_Rory._ But join or ye spoil all.

_Talb._ You have spoiled all, indeed.

_Lord J._ (_making a formal low bow_). Mr. Talbot, Lord John thanks you.

_Rory._ Lord John! blood and thunder! I forgot you were by--quite and clean.

_Lord J._ (_puts him aside and continues speaking to Talbot_). Lord John thanks you, Mr. Talbot: this is the second part of the caricature. Lord John thanks you for these proofs of friendship--Lord John has reason to thank you, Mr. Talbot.

_Rory._ No reason in life now. Don't be thanking so much for nothing in life; or if you must be thanking of somebody, it's me you ought to thank.

_Lord J._ I ought and do, sir, for unmasking one who----

_Talb._ (_warmly_). Unmasking, my lord----

_Rory_ (_holding them asunder_). Phoo! phoo! phoo! be easy, can't ye?--there's no unmasking at all in the case. My Lord John, Talbot's writing the song was all a mistake.

_Lord J._ As much a mistake as your singing it, sir, I presume----

_Rory._ Just as much. 'Twas all a mistake. So now don't you go and make a mistake into a misunderstanding. It was I made every word of the song _out o' the face_[10]--that about the back that never was bent, and the ancestors of the oyster, and all. He did not waste a word of it; upon my conscience, I wrote it all--though I'll engage you didn't think I could write such a good thing. (_Lord John turns away._) I'm telling you the truth, and not a word of a lie, and yet you won't believe me.

[10] From beginning to end.

_Lord J._ You will excuse me, sir, if I cannot believe two contradictory assertions within two minutes. Mr. Talbot, I thank you (_going_).

(_Rory tries to stop Lord John from going, but cannot.--Exit Lord John._)

_Rory._ Well, if he _will_ go, let him go then, and much good may it do him. Nay, but don't you go too.

_Talb._ O Rory, what have you done?--(_Talbot runs after Lord J._) Hear me, my lord.

(_Exit Talbot._)

_Rory._ Hear him! hear him! hear him!--Well, I'm point blank mad with myself for making this blunder; but how could I help it? As sure as ever I am meaning to do the best thing on earth, it turns out the worst.

_Enter a party of lads, huzzaing._

_Rory_ (_joins_). Huzza! huzza!--Who, pray, are ye huzzaing for?

_1st Boy._ Wheeler! Wheeler for ever! huzza!

_Rory._ Talbot! Talbot for ever! huzza! Captain Talbot for ever! huzza!

_2nd Boy._ _Captain_ he'll never be,--at least not to-morrow; for Lord John has just declared for Wheeler.

_1st Boy._ And that turns the scale.

_Rory._ Oh, the scale may turn back again.

_3rd Boy._ Impossible! Lord John has just given his _promise_ to Wheeler. I heard him with my own ears.

(_Several speak at once._) And I heard him; and I! and I! and I!--Huzza! Wheeler for ever!

_Rory._ Oh, murder! murder! murder! (_Aside._) This goes to my heart! it's all my doing. O, my poor Talbot! murder! murder! murder! But I won't let them see me cast down, and it is good to be huzzaing at all events. Huzza for Talbot! Talbot for ever! huzza!

(_Exit._)

_Enter_ WHEELER _and_ BURSAL.

_Wheel._ Who was that huzzaing for Talbot?

(_Rory behind the scenes_, 'Huzza for Talbot! Talbot for ever! huzza!')

_Burs._ Pooh, it is only Rory O'Ryan, or the roaring lion, as I call him. Ha! ha! ha! Rory O'Ryan, _alias_ O'Ryan, the roaring lion; that's a good one; put it about--Rory O'Ryan, the roaring lion, ha! ha! ha! but you don't take it--you don't laugh, Wheeler.

_Wheeler._ Ha! ha! ha! Oh, upon my honour I do laugh; ha! ha! ha! (_It is the hardest work to laugh at his wit--aside._) (_Aloud._) Rory O'Ryan, the roaring lion--ha! ha! ha! You know I always laugh, Bursal, at your jokes--he! he! he!--ready to kill myself.

_Burs._ (_sullenly_). You are easily killed, then, if that much laughing will do the business.

_Wheel._ (_coughing_). Just then--something stuck in my throat; I beg your pardon.

_Burs._ (_still sullen_). Oh, you need not beg my pardon about the matter; I don't care whether you laugh or no--not I. Now you have got Lord John to declare for you, you are above laughing at my jokes, I suppose.

_Wheel._ No, upon my word and honour, _I did_ laugh.

_Burs._ (_aside_). A fig for your word and honour. (_Aloud._) I know I'm of no consequence now; but you'll remember that, if his lordship has the honour of making you captain, he must have the honour to pay for your captain's accoutrements; for I shan't pay the piper, I promise you, since I'm of no consequence.

_Wheel._ Of no consequence! But, my dear Bursal, what could put that into your head? that's the strangest, oddest fancy. Of no consequence! Bursal, of no consequence! Why, everybody that knows anything--everybody that has seen Bursal House--knows that you are of the greatest consequence, my dear Bursal.

_Burs._ (_taking out his watch, and opening it, looks at it_). No, I'm of no consequence. I wonder that rascal Finsbury is not come yet with the dresses (_still looking at his watch_).

_Wheel._ (_aside_). If Bursal takes it into his head not to lend me the money to pay for my captain's dress, what will become of me? for I have not a shilling--and Lord John won't pay for me--and Finsbury has orders not to leave the house till he is paid by everybody. What will become of me?--(_bites his nails_).

_Burs._ (_aside_). How I love to make him bite his nails! (_Aloud._) I know I'm of no consequence. (_Strikes his repeater._)

_Wheel._ What a fine repeater that is of yours, Bursal! It is the best I ever heard.

_Burs._ So it well may be; for it cost a mint of money.

_Wheel._ No matter to you what anything costs. Happy dog as you are! You roll in money; and yet you talk of being of no consequence.

_Burs._ But I am not of half so much consequence as Lord John--am I?

_Wheel._ Are you? Why, aren't you twice as rich as he!

_Burs._ Very true, but I'm not purse-proud.

_Wheel._ You purse-proud! I should never have thought of such a thing.

_Burs._ Nor I, if Talbot had not used the word.

_Wheel._ But Talbot thinks everybody purse-proud that has a purse.

_Burs._ (_aside_). Well, this Wheeler does put one into a good humour with one's self in spite of one's teeth. (_Aloud._) Talbot says blunt things; but I don't think he's what you can call clever--hey, Wheeler?

_Wheel._ Clever! Oh, not he.

_Burs._ I think I could walk round him.

_Wheel._ To be sure you could. Why, do you know, I've _quizzed_ him famously myself within this quarter of an hour?

_Burs._ Indeed! I wish I had been by.

_Wheel._ So do I, 'faith! It was the best thing. I wanted, you see, to get him out of my way, that I might have the field clear for electioneering to-day. So I bowls up to him with a long face--such a face as this. 'Mr. Talbot, do you know--I'm sorry to tell you, here's Jack Smith has just brought the news from Salt Hill. Your mother, in getting into the carriage, slipped, and has _broke_ her leg, and there she's lying at a farmhouse, two miles off. Is not it true, Jack?' said I. 'I saw the farmer helping her in with my own eyes,' cries Jack. Off goes Talbot like an arrow. '_Quizzed_ him, _quizzed_ him!' said I.

_Burs._ Ha! ha! ha! quizzed him indeed, with all his cleverness; that was famously done.

_Wheel._ Ha! ha! ha! With all his cleverness he will be all the evening hunting for the farmhouse and the mother that has _broke_ her leg; so he is out of our way.

_Burs._ But what need have you to want him out of your way, now Lord John has come over to your side? You have the thing at a dead beat.

_Wheel._ Not so dead either; for there's a great independent party, you know; and if _you_ don't help me, Bursal, to canvass them, I shall be no captain. It is you I depend upon after all. Will you come and canvass them with me? Dear Bursal, pray--all depends upon you.

(_Pulls him by the arm--Bursal follows._)

_Burs._ Well, if all depends upon me, I'll see what I can do for you. (_Aside._) Then I am of some consequence! Money makes a man of some consequence, I see; at least with some folks.