_The Earl of Burntalmond._
_The Countess of Burntalmond_ (_his wife_).
_Robert Henry Viscount Bullsaye_ (_their son and heir_).
_The Lady Rose Caramel_ (_niece to the Earl_).
_Horehound._ } (_Travelling as "The Celebrated Combination_
_Mrs. Horehound._ } _Korffdropp Troupe," in their refined and_
_Coltsfoot Horehound._ } _elegant Drawing-room Entertainment._)
_Tenantry._
SCENE--_The Great Quadrangle of Hardbake Castle; banners, mottoes,
decorations, &c. On the steps, R., the Earl, supported by his wife, son,
and niece, is discovered in the act of concluding a speech to six
tenantry, who display all the enthusiasm that is reasonably to be
expected at ninepence a night._
[Illustration]
_The Earl (patting_ Lord BULLSAYE'S _shoulder)._ I might say more,
Gentlemen, in praise of my dear son, Lord BULLSAYE, here--I might dwell
on his extreme sweetness, his strongly marked character, the variety of
his tastes, and the singular attraction he has for children of all
ages--but I forbear. I will merely announce that on this day--the day he
has selected for attaining his majority--he has gratified us all by
plighting troth to his cousin, the Lady ROSE CARAMEL, with whose dulcet
and clinging disposition he has always possessed the greatest natural
affinity. [_Cheers._
_Lord Bullsaye_ (_aside to_ Lady R.). Ah, ROSE, would such happiness
could last! But my heart misgives me strangely--why, I know not.
_Lady R._ Say not so, dear BULLSAYE--have you not just rendered me the
happiest little Patrician in the whole peerage?
_Lord B._ 'Tis true--and yet, and yet--pooh, let me snatch the present
hour! [_Snatches it._
_The Earl._ And now, let the Revels commence.
_Enter the_ Korffdropp Troupe, _who give their marvellous Entertainment,
entitled, "The Three Surprise Packets;" after which--_
_Horehound._ This will conclude the first portion of our Entertainment,
Lords, Ladies, and Gentlemen; and, while my wife and pardner retires to
change her costoom for the Second Part, I should be glad of the
hoppertoonity of a short pussonal hexplanation with the noble Herl on my
right. [_Exit_ Mrs. HOREHOUND.
_The Earl_ (_graciously_). I will hear you, fellow! (_Aside._) Strange
how familiar his features seem to me!
_Horeh._ The fact is, your Lordship's celebrating the coming of hage of
the _wrong heir_. (_Sensation--i.e., the six tenantry shift from one leg
to the other, and murmur feebly._) Oh, I can prove it. Twenty-one years
ago--(_slow music_)--I was in your Lordship's service as gamekeeper,
'ead whip, and hextry waiter. My son and yours was born the selfsame
day, and my hold woman was selected to hact as foster-mother to the
youthful lord. Well--(_tells a long, and not entirely original, story;
marvellous resemblance between infants, only distinguishable by green
and magenta bows, &c., &c._) Soon after, your Lordship discharged me at
a moment's notice----
_The Earl_ (_haughtily_). I did, upon discovering that you were in the
habit of surreptitiously carrying off kitchen-stuff, concealed within
your umbrella. But proceed with your narration.
_Horeh._ I swore to be avenged, and so--(_common form again; the shifted
bows_)--consequently, as a moment's reflection will convince you, the
young man on the steps, in the button-'ole and tall 'at, is my lawful
son, while the real Viscount is--(_presenting_ COLTSFOOT, _who advances
modestly on his hands_)--'ere! [_Renewed sensation._
_The Earl._ This is indeed a startling piece of intelligence. (_To_ Lord
B.) And so, Sir, it appears that your whole life has been one consistent
imposition--a gilded _lie_?
_Lord B._ Let my youth and inexperience at the time, Sir, plead as my
best excuse!
_The E._ Nothing can excuse the fact that you--you, a low-born son of
the people, have monopolised the training, the tenderness and education,
which were the due of your Patrician foster-brother. (_To_ COLTSFOOT.)
Approach, my injured, long-lost boy, and tell me how I may atone for
these years of injustice and neglect!
_Coltsf._ Well, Guv'nor, if you could send out for a pot o' four arf, it
'ud be a _beginning_, like.
_The E._ You shall have every luxury that befits your rank, but first
remove that incongruous garb.
_Colts_, (_to_ Lord B.). These 'ere togs belong to _you_ now, young
feller, and I reckon exchange ain't no robbery.
_Lord B._ (_with emotion, to_ Countess). Mother, can you endure to
behold your son in tights and spangles on the very day of his majority?
_Countess_ (_coldly_). On the contrary, it is my wish to see him attired
as soon as possible, in a more appropriate costume.
_Lord B._ (_to_ Lady R.). ROSE, _you_, at least, have not changed? Tell
me you will love me still--even on the precarious summit of an acrobat's
pole!
_Lady Rose_ (_scornfully_). Really the presumptuous familiarity of the
lower orders is perfectly appalling!
_The Earl_ (_to_ Countess, _as_ Lord B. _and_ COLTSFOOT _retire to
exchange costumes_). At last, PAULINE, I understand why I could never
feel towards BULLSAYE the affection of a parent. Often have I reproached
myself for a coldness I could not overcome.
_Countess._ And I too! Nature was too strong for us. But, oh, the joy of
recovering our son--of finding him so strong, so supple, so agile. Never
yet has our line boasted an heir who can feed himself from a fork
strapped on to his dexter heel!
_The E._ (_with emotion_). Our beloved, boneless boy!
[_Re-enter_ COLTSFOOT _in modern dress, and_ Lord B. _in tights_.
_Colts._ Don't I look slap-up--O.K. and no mistake? Oh, I _am_ 'aving a
beano!
_All._ What easy gaiety, and unforced animation!
_The E._ My dear boy, let me present you to your _fiancee_. ROSE, my
love, this is your _legitimate_ lover.
_Colts._ Oh, all right, _I've_ no objections--on'y there'll be ructions
with the young woman in the tight-rope line as I've been keepin' comp'ny
with--that's all!
_The E._ Your foster-brother will act as your substitute there.
(_Proudly._) _My_ son must make no _mesalliance_!
_Rose_ (_timidly_). And, if it would give you any pleasure, I'm sure I
could soon learn the tight-rope!
_Colts._ Not at _your_ time o' life. Miss, and besides, 'ang it, now I'm
a lord, I can't have my wife doin' nothing low!
_The E._ Spoken like a true BURNTALMOND! And now let the revels
re-commence. [_Re-enter_ Mrs. HOREHOUND.
_Horeh._ (_to_ Lord B.). Now then, stoopid, tumble, can't you--what are
you 'ere _for_?
_Lord B._ (_to the_ Earl). Since it is your command, I obey, though it
is ill tumbling with a heavy heart!
[_Turns head over heels laboriously._
_Colts._ Call that a somersault? 'Ere, 'old my 'at (_giving tall hat to_
Lady R.) _I'll_ show yer 'ow to do a turn.
[_Throws a triple somersault._
_All._ What condescension! How his aristocratic superiority is betrayed,
even in competition with those to the manner born!
_Mrs. Horeh._ (_still in ignorance of the transformation_). Halt! I have
kept silence till now--even from my husband, but the time has come when
I _must_ speak. Think you that if he were indeed a lord, he could turn
such somersaults as those? No--no. I will reveal all. (_Tells same old
story--except that she herself from ambitious motives transposed the
infants' bows._) Now, do with me what you will!
_Horeh._ Confusion, so my ill-judged action did but redress the wrong I
designed to effect!
_The E._ (_annoyed_). This is a serious matter, reflecting as it does
upon the legitimacy of my lately recovered son. What proof have you,
woman, of your preposterous allegation?
_Mrs. H._ None, my lord,--but these--
[_Exhibits two faded bunches of ribbon._
_The E._ I cannot resist such overwhelming evidence, fight against it as
I may.
_Lord B._ (_triumphantly_). And so--oh, Father, Mother, ROSE--dear, dear
ROSE--I am no acrobat after all!
_The E._ (_sternly_). Would you were anything half so serviceable to the
community, Sir! I have no superstitious reverence for rank, and am, I
trust, sufficiently enlightened to discern worth and merit--even beneath
the spangled vest of the humblest acrobat. Your foster-brother, brief as
our acquaintance has been, has already endeared himself to all hearts,
while you have borne a trifling reverse of fortune with sullen
discontent and conspicuous incapacity. He has perfected himself in a
lofty and distinguished profession during years spent by _you_, Sir, in
idly cumbering the earth of Eton and Oxford. Shall I allow him to suffer
by a purely accidental coincidence? Never! I owe him reparation, and it
shall be paid to the uttermost penny. From this day, I adopt him as my
eldest son, and the heir to my earldom, and all other real and personal
effects. See, ROBERT HENRY, that you treat your foster-brother as your
senior in future!
_Coltsf._ (_to_ Lord B). Way-oh, ole matey, I don't bear no malice, _I_
don't! Give us your dooks. [_Offering hand._
_The C._ Ah, BULLSAYE, try to be worthy of such generosity!
[Lord B. _grasps_ COLTSFOOT'S _hand in silence._
_Lady Rose._ And pray, understand that, whether Mr. COLTSFOOT be
viscount or acrobat, it can make no difference whatever to the
disinterested affection with which I have lately learnt to regard him.
[_Gives her hand to_ COLTSFOOT, _who squeezes it with ardour_.
_Coltsf._ (_pleasantly_). Well, Father, Mother, your noble Herlship and
Lady, foster-brother BULLSAYE, and my pretty little sweetart 'ere, what
do you all say to goin' inside and shunting a little garbage, and
shifting a drop or so of lotion, eh?
_The E._ A most sensible suggestion, my boy. Let us make these ancient
walls the scene of the blithest--ahem!--_beano_ they have ever yet
beheld!
[_Cheers from Tenantry, as the_ Earl _leads the way into the Castle
with_ Mrs. HOREHOUND, _followed by_ HOREHOUND _with the Countess
and_ COLTSFOOT _with_ Lady ROSE, Lord BULLSAYE, _discomfited and
abashed, entering last as Curtain falls_.]
* * * * *