"Apropos of that little piece," said I, "I wish Livius would play the songs, and sing them to us."
Livius was immediately seated at the pianoforte. When he got to the last chorus-song Elliston jumped up, declaring he was to sing that with the rest, and had not yet heard a word of it. He then began, with a serious face, accompanying Livius.
"Oh 'tis love, 'tis love, 'tis love."
"Elliston!" bawled out George Lamb, "why the deuce don't you come and finish your supper? I want to speak to you."
Elliston took no notice; but continued his "Oh! 'tis love, 'tis love, 'tis love."
"Livius," then said George Lamb, "I want to ask you whether you have places to spare for your night?"
"Elliston won't allow me to leave off," replied Livius, still continuing to play, to Elliston's "Oh! 'tis love, 'tis love, 'tis love!"
"Leave off, you blockhead!" said George Lamb to Elliston. "I will lay you fifty guineas that you do not repeat one line as Livius has written it, either in your song or your speech."
Elliston appeared to agree, and give up the matter as hopeless, for, darting from the pianoforte towards Livius's young, female friend, who still continued at table, he gave her such an ardent embrace that she was quite frightened, and then, as I sat next, he conferred the same honour on me.