_1st Boy._ I've not paid, but here's my money.

_Several Boys._ We have not paid, but here's our money.

_6th Boy._ Order there, I am marshal. All that have paid march off to the staircase, and take your seats there, one by one. March!

(_As they march by, one by one, so as to display their dresses, Mr. Finsbury bows, and says,_)

A thousand thanks, gentlemen. Thank you, gentlemen. Thanks, gentlemen.

The finest sight ever I saw out of Lon'on.

_Rory, as each lad pa.s.ses, catches his arm,_ Are you a Talbot_ite_, or a Wheeler_ite_? _To each who answers_ 'A Wheelerite,' _Rory replies_, 'Phoo! dance off, then. Go to the devil and shake yourself.'[11] _Each who answers_ 'A Talbot.i.te,' _Rory shakes by the hand violently, singing,_

Talbot, oh, Talbot's the dog for Rory.

_When they have almost all pa.s.sed, Lord John says,_ But where can Mr.

Talbot be all this time?

[11] This is the name of a country dance.

_Burs._ Who knows? Who cares?

_Wheel._ A pretty electioneerer! (_Aside to Bursal._) Finsbury's waiting to be paid.

_Lord J._ You don't wait for me, Mr. Finsbury. You know, I have settled with you.

_Fins._ Yes, my lord--yes. Many thanks; and I have left your lordship's dress here, and everybody's dress, I believe, as bespoke.

_Burs._ Here, Finsbury, is the money for Wheeler, who, between you and me, is as poor as a rat.

_Wheeler_ (_affecting to laugh_). Well, I hope I shall be as rich as a Jew to-morrow.

(_Bursal counts money, in an ostentatious manner, into Finsbury's hand._)

_Fins._ A thousand thanks for all favours.

_Rory._ You will be kind enough to _lave_ Mr. Talbot's dress with me, Mr. Finsbury, for I'm a friend.

_Fins._ Indubitably, sir; but the misfortune is--he! he! he!--Mr.

Talbot, sir, has bespoke no dress. Your servant, gentlemen.

(_Exit Finsbury._)

_Burs._ So your friend Mr. Talbot could not afford to bespeak a dress--(_Bursal and Wheeler laugh insolently_). How comes that, I wonder?

_Lord J._ If I'm not mistaken, here comes Talbot to answer for himself.

_Rory._ But who, in the name of St. Patrick, has he along with him?

_Enter_ TALBOT _and_ LANDLORD.

_Talb._ Come in along with us, Farmer Hearty--come in.

(_Whilst the Farmer comes in, the boys who were sitting on the stairs rise and exclaim,_)

Whom have we here? What now? Come down, lads; here's more fun.

_Rory._ What's here, Talbot?

_Talb._ An honest farmer and a good-natured landlord, who _would_ come here along with me to speak----

_Farm._ (_interrupting_). To speak the truth--(_strikes his stick on the ground_).

_Landlord_ (_unb.u.t.toning his waistcoat_). But I am so hot--so short-winded, that (_panting and puffing_)--that for the soul and body of me, I cannot say what I have got for to say.

_Rory._ 'Faith, now, the more short-winded a story, the better, to my fancy.

_Burs._ Wheeler, what's the matter, man? you look as if your under jaw was broke.

_Farm._ The matter is, young gentlemen, that there was once upon a time a fine bay hunter.

_Wheel._ (_squeezing up to Talbot, aside_). Don't expose me, don't let him tell. (_To the Farmer._) I'll pay for the corn I spoiled. (_To the Landlord._) I'll pay for the horse.

_Farm._ I does not want to be paid for my corn. The short of it is, young gentlemen, this 'un here, in the fine thing-em-bobs (_pointing to Wheeler_), is a shabby fellow; he went and spoiled Master Newington's best hunter.

_Land._ (_panting_). Ruinationed him! ruinationed him!

_Rory._ But was that all the shabbiness? Now I might, or any of us might, have had such an accident as that. I suppose he paid the gentleman for the horse, or will do so, in good time.

_Land._ (_holding his sides_). Oh, that I had but a little breath in this body o' mine to speak all--speak on, Farmer.

_Farm._ (_striking his stick on the floor_). Oons, sir, when a man's put out, he can't go on with his story.

_Omnes._ Be quiet, Rory--hush!

(_Rory puts his finger on his lips._)

_Farm._ Why, sir, I was a-going to tell you the shabbiness--why, sir, he did not pay the landlord, here, for the horse; but he goes and says to the landlord, here--'Mr. Talbot had your horse on the self-same day; 'twas he did the damage; 'tis from he you must get your money.' So Mr.

Talbot, here, who is another sort of a gentleman (though he has not so fine a coat), would not see a man at a loss, that could not afford it; and not knowing which of 'em it was that spoiled the horse, goes, when he finds the other would not pay a farthing, and pays all.

_Rory_ (_rubbing his hands_). There's Talbot for ye. And now, gentlemen (_to Wheeler and Bursal_), you guess the _rason_, as I do, I suppose, why he bespoke no dress; he had not money enough to be fine--and honest, too. You are very fine, Mr. Wheeler, to do you justice.

_Lord J._ Pray, Mr. O'Ryan, let the farmer go on; he has more to say.

How did you find out, pray, my good friend, that it was not Talbot who spoiled the horse? Speak loud enough to be heard by everybody.

_Farm._ Ay, that I will--I say (_very loudly_) I say I saw _him_ there (_pointing to Wheeler_) take the jump which strained the horse; and I'm ready to swear to it. Yet he let another pay; there's the shabbiness.

(_A general groan from all the lads._ 'Oh, shabby Wheeler, shabby! I'll not vote for shabby Wheeler!')