Rory (to Lord J.). Phoo, Phoo! he’s only denying it out of false modesty.
Lord. J. Well, no matter who wrote it,—sing it again.
Rory. Be easy; so I will, and as many more verses as you will to the back of it. (Winking at Talbot aside.) You shall have the credit of all. (Aloud.) Put me in when I’m out, Talbot, and you (to Lord John) join—join.
Rory sings, and Lord John sings with him.
“Then there’s he with the purse that’s as long as my arm;
His father’s a tanner,—but then where’s the harm?
Heir to houses, and hunters, and horseponds in fee,
Won’t his skins sure soon buy him a pedigree?
There’s my lord with the back that never was bent—”
(Lord John stops singing; Talbot makes signs to Rory to stop; but Rory does not see him, and sings on.)
“There’s my lord with the back that never was bent;
Let him live with his ancestors, I am content.”
(Rory pushes Lord J. and Talbot with his elbows.)
Rory. Join, join, both of ye—why don’t you join? (Sings.)
“Who’ll buy my Lord John? the arch fishwoman cried,
A nice oyster shut up in a choice shell of pride.”