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 Lords.h.i.+p's celebrating the coming of hage of the _wrong heir_. (_Sensation--i.e., the six tenantry s.h.i.+ft from one leg to the other, and murmur feebly._) Oh, I can prove it. Twenty-one years ago--(_slow music_)--I was in your Lords.h.i.+p'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 Lords.h.i.+p 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 s.h.i.+fted 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._