Waiter (aside to Landlord). Not if she could help it; but there's no beds, since Mr. Bursal and Miss Bursal's come.
Landlord. I say nothing, for it is vain to say more. But isn't it a pity she can't stay for the Montem, poor old lady! Her son – as good and fine a lad as ever you saw – they say, has a chance, too, of being captain. She may never live to see another such a sight.
(As Mrs. Talbot walks slowly on, the Farmer puts himself across her way, so as to stop her short.)
Farm. No offence, madam, I hope; but I have a good snug farmhouse, not far off hand; and if so be you'd be so good to take a night's lodging, you and the young lady with you, you'd have a hearty welcome. That's all I can say; and you'd make my wife very happy; for she's a good woman, to say nothing of myself.
Landlord. If I may be so bold to put in my word, madam, you'd have as good beds, and be as well lodged, with Farmer Hearty, as in e'er a house at Salt Hill.
Mrs. Talb. I am very much obliged —
Farm. Oh, say nothing o' that, madam. I am sure I shall be as much obliged if you do come. Do, miss, speak for me.
Louisa. Pray, dear mother —
Farm. She will. (Calls behind the scenes.) Here, waiter! hostler! driver! what's your name? drive the chaise up here to the door, smart, close. Lean on my arm, madam, and we'll have you in and home in a whiff.
(Exeunt Mrs. Talbot, Louisa, Farmer, Landlord, and Waiter.)
Landlady (sola). What a noise and a rout this farmer man makes! and my husband, with his great broad face, bowing, as great a nincompoop as t'other. The folks are all bewitched with the old woman, I verily believe. (Aloud.) A good morning to you, ladies.
ACT THE SECOND
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 inclusive, hey, my lord! hey, my lud!
Lord J. Talbot exclusive, 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 - 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 sintimint; for, for my share I'd not give a bogberry a bushel for sintimint, when I could get anything better.