Mr Punch's Model Music Hall Songs and Dramas Part 21

_Lord B._ 'Tis true--and yet, and yet--pooh, let me s.n.a.t.c.h the present hour!

[_s.n.a.t.c.hes it._

_The Earl._ And now, let the Revels commence.

_Enter the_ Korffdropp Troupe, _who give their marvellous Entertainment, ent.i.tled, "The Three Surprise Packets;" after which_--

_h.o.r.ehound._ 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 n.o.ble Herl on my right.

[_Exit_ Mrs. h.o.r.eHOUND.

_The Earl_ (_graciously_). I will hear you, fellow! (_Aside._) Strange how familiar his features seem to me!

_h.o.r.eh._ 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 dutch 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 surrept.i.tiously carrying off kitchen-stuff, concealed within your umbrella. But proceed with your narration.

_h.o.r.eh._ 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 b.u.t.ton-'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!

_Colts._ 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 subst.i.tute 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.

[Ill.u.s.tration: Lord B. in tights.]

[_Re-enter_ Mrs. h.o.r.ehound.

_h.o.r.eh._ (_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 compet.i.tion with those to the manner born!

_Mrs. h.o.r.eh._ (_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!

_h.o.r.eh._ 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 superst.i.tious 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 c.u.mbering 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!

_Colts._ (_to_ Lord B.). Way-oh, ole matey, I don't bear no malice, _I_ don't! Give us your dooks.

[_Offering hand._