‘Ere, where ye comin’ to?

BISHOP [peering closely into his face, the other edging away].  Ah!  Mr. Smythe, or I am mistaken.

ROBERT.  Smith’s my name!  Don’t you call me Smythe!

BISHOP.  My dear sir, don’t mention it:  my sister has explained everything.  I bear you no grudge—­none whatever!

ROBERT.  What’s the silly ole josser jawin’ abaht now?

BISHOP.  But I perceive that I have—­er—­[sniffing] disturbed you at your morning meal . . .

ROBERT [with conviction].  You ‘av’ that!

BISHOP.  Eh? . . .

ROBERT [louder].  I say, you ‘av’!

BISHOP [fixing his ear-trumpet].  Just once more . . .

ROB ERT.  Oh, Moses! [Roaring, and indicating his breakfast.] You ‘av’ blarst you!

BISHOP [mistaking the gesticulation].  Thank you, you are very kind.  I think I will.  I could get nothing on the journey but a cup of coffee and a bun.

[He sits at the table without ever having perceived MANSON, who has nevertheless been serving him.]

ROBERT.  Yus, you look as if you fed on buns!

[Throughout the play the audience will understand where the BISHOP does, and where he does not, hear by his use or non-use of the ear-trumpet.  Perhaps the reader will be good enough to imagine these occasions for himself, as he may have observed a reluctance on the part of the author to encumber the text with stage directions.]

BISHOP [eating, and at the same time addressing the becassocked ROBERT].  And you must not think, on account of the little coolness between us, that I have not followed your career with great interest—­very great interest!  Your scholastic achievements have been most praiseworthy—­especially under the unfortunate circumstances. . . .  Although, by-the-way, I cannot at all agree with your gloss on Romans fourteen, twenty-three; Katakekritai either means damned or nothing at all.

ROBERT [gesticulating].  It was ’im as said damned!

BISHOP.  No, no, sir:  it is perfectly indefensible!

ROBERT.  I’ll use what langwidge I like!

BISHOP [warming].  You said katakekritai . . .

ROBERT.  I never did, I tek my oath!

BISHOP.  My dear sir, I learned my Greek at Shrewsbury, before you were born!  Don’t argue, sir!

ROBERT.  Oo is argufying? . . .  Talking to me about yer
Katama-what-d’you-call-it!

BISHOP.  We had better drop the subject! . . .  Boeotian!  After all, it is not precisely the matter which has brought us together.  And that reminds me . . . [Trumpet.] Has he come yet?

ROBERT.  Oo?

BISHOP.  Your brother, of course.

ROBERT.  My brother!  Oh, you’ll see ’im soon enough!

BISHOP.  I gather from your remark that he has not arrived yet.  Good!  The fact is, I should like a preliminary discussion with yourself before meeting your illustrious brother.