_Farm._ Why, sir, I was a-going to tell you the shabbiness—why, sir, he did not pay the landlord, here, for the horse; but he goes and says to the landlord, here—“Mr. Talbot had your horse on the self-same day; ’twas he did the damage; ’tis from he you must get your money.” So Mr. Talbot, here, who is another sort of a gentleman (though he has not so fine a coat) would not see a man at a loss, that could not afford it; and not knowing which of ’em it was that spoiled the horse, goes, when he finds the other would not pay a farthing, and pays all. _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. _Rory_. Oh, yes! oh yes! hear ye! hear ye, all manner of men—the election is now going to begin forthwith in the big field, and Rory O’Ryan holds the poll for Talbot. Talbot for ever!—huzza! (_Exit Rory_, _followed by the Boys_, _who exclaim_ “Talbot for ever!—huzza!” _The Landlord and Farmer join them_.) _Lord J._ Talbot, I am glad you are what I always thought you—I’m glad you did not write that odious song. I would not lose such a friend for all the songs in the world. Forgive me for my hastiness this morning. I’ve punished myself—I’ve promised to vote for Wheeler. _Talb._ Oh, no matter whom you vote for, my lord, if you are still my friend, and if you know me to be yours. (_They shake hands_.) _Lord J._ I must not say, “Huzza for Talbot!” (_Exeunt_.) SCENE IV. WINDSOR TERRACE. LADY PIERCEFIELD, MRS. TALBOT, LOUISA, _and a little girl of six years old_, LADY VIOLETTA, _daughter to_ LADY PIERCEFIELD. _Violetta_ (_looking at a paper which Louisa holds_). I like it _very_ much. _Lady P._ What is it that you like _very_ much, Violetta?