tumbling with a heavy heart!

[_Turns head over heels laboriously._

_Colts._ Call that a somersault? 'Ere, 'old my 'at (_giving tall hat to_
Lady R.) _I'll_ show yer 'ow to do a turn.

[_Throws a triple somersault._

_All._ What condescension! How his aristocratic superiority is betrayed,
even in competition with those to the manner born!

_Mrs. Horeh._ (_still in ignorance of the transformation_). Halt! I have
kept silence till now--even from my husband, but the time has come when
I _must_ speak. Think you that if he were indeed a lord, he could turn
such somersaults as those? No--no. I will reveal all. (_Tells same old
story--except that she herself from ambitious motives transposed the
infants' bows._) Now, do with me what you will!

_Horeh._ Confusion, so my ill-judged action did but redress the wrong I
designed to effect!

_The E._ (_annoyed_). This is a serious matter, reflecting as it does
upon the legitimacy of my lately recovered son. What proof have you,
woman, of your preposterous allegation?

_Mrs. H._ None, my lord,--but these--

[_Exhibits two faded bunches of ribbon._

_The E._ I cannot resist such overwhelming evidence, fight against it as
I may.

_Lord B._ (_triumphantly_). And so--oh, Father, Mother, ROSE--dear, dear
ROSE--I am no acrobat after all!

_The E._ (_sternly_). Would you were anything half so serviceable to the
community, Sir! I have no superstitious reverence for rank, and am, I
trust, sufficiently enlightened to discern worth and merit--even beneath
the spangled vest of the humblest acrobat. Your foster-brother, brief as
our acquaintance has been, has already endeared himself to all hearts,
while you have borne a trifling reverse of fortune with sullen
discontent and conspicuous incapacity. He has perfected himself in a
lofty and distinguished profession during years spent by _you_, Sir, in
idly cumbering the earth of Eton and Oxford. Shall I allow him to suffer
by a purely accidental coincidence? Never! I owe him reparation, and it
shall be paid to the uttermost penny. From this day, I adopt him as my
eldest son, and the heir to my earldom, and all other real and personal
effects. See, ROBERT HENRY, that you treat your foster-brother as your
senior in future!

_Coltsf._ (_to_ Lord B). Way-oh, ole matey, I don't bear no malice, _I_
don't! Give us your dooks. [_Offering hand._

_The C._ Ah, BULLSAYE, try to be worthy of such generosity!

[Lord B. _grasps_ COLTSFOOT'S _ha