Rory (rubbing his hands). There’s Talbot for ye. And, now, gentlemen (to Wheeler and Bursal), you guess the rason, as I do, I suppose, why he bespoke no dress; he had not money enough to be fine—and honest, too. You are very fine, Mr. Wheeler, to do you justice.
Lord J. Pray, Mr. O’Ryan, let the farmer go on; he has more to say. How did you find out, pray, my good friend, that it was not Talbot who spoiled the horse! Speak loud enough to be heard by everybody.
Farm. Ay, that I will—I say (very loudly) I say I saw him there (pointing to Wheeler) take the jump which strained the horse; and I’m ready to swear to it. Yet he let another pay; there’s the shabbiness.
(A general groan from all the lads. “Oh, shabby Wheeler, shabby! I’ll not vote for shabby Wheeler!”)
Lord J. (aside). Alas! I must vote for him.
Rory sings.
“True game to the last; no Wheeler for me;
Talbot, oh, Talbot’s the dog for me.”
(Several voices join the chorus.)
Burs. Wheeler, if you are not chosen Captain, you must see and pay me for the dress.
Wheel. I am as poor as a rat.