The Mayor of Troy

by Arthur Quiller-Couch

"Eh?"

"With a Major's commission!"

"Pardon, I think you must be confusing me with some other person. Orlando B. Sturge is my name, sir, and familiar—as I may say without vanity—wherever the Thespian art is honoured. But yesterday the darling of the public; and now, in the words of our national bard:"

"'—Now lies he here,
And none so poor to do him reverence.'

"'—Now lies he here,
And none so poor to do him reverence.'

"You are familiar with the works of Shakespeare, sir? Your speech, if you will allow me to say so, suggests a respectable education."

"I have dipped into them," answered the Major inattentively, absorbed in his own woes.

"My consolation is, this will get into the newspapers; and then let these ignorant ruffians beware!"

"The newspapers! God forbid!" The Major shuddered.

"Ha?" Mr. Sturge drew back in dark surprise. "'Tis the language of delirium. He raves. What ho, without there!" he called aloud.