Company Of Spears

before she sang with real expression, and Hervey wished very much that he had been able to understand the Italian.

The applause was even stronger. ‘She can sing, I grant you that,’ said Somervile.

Hervey was now inclined to ascribe her earlier sudden indifference to nerves, in anticipation of these choice pieces – except that she sang so effortlessly he could see no reason for them. Perhaps it was mere … preoccupation?

The forte-pianist took his bow, Kezia Lankester took another, and they left the ‘stage’ to the final diversion.

‘Well, a cavallo,’ said Somervile, in a resigned but by no means apprehensive way, taking his wife’s hand and leading her forward.

Emma took her place at the forte-piano, while from behind a curtain her husband took a hunting whip and horn, sounding the latter to the immediate acclamation of the two squires.

‘Ladies and gentlemen,’ began Somervile, stentor-like. ‘From the sublime heights of Italian opera I take you to the English countryside, and Mr Henry Fielding’s “A Hunting We Will Go”, with music by … I forget whom.’

There were appreciative Yoicks! from the squirearchy.

Emma began the jaunting little 6/8 introduction, Somervile sounded the off, slapped his thigh with the whip and took up the boisterous verse:

The dusky night rides do-own the sky,

And ushers in the morn:

The hounds all join in glorious cry,

The hounds all join in glorious cry,

The hu-untsman wi-inds his ho-o-o-orn,

The huntsman winds his horn.

Emma joined in the refrain:

And a-hunting we will go,

A-hunting we will go,

A-hu-u-u-u-u-u-u-u-u-unt,

A-hu-unting we will go!

Somervile sounded the off again, and Emma took up the second verse:

The wife around her hu-usband throws

Her arms, to make him stay;

My dear, it rains, it hai-ils, it blows;

My dear, it rains, it hai-ils, it blows;

You ca-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-not,

You cannot hunt today.

Somervile resumed the refrain:

Yet a-hunting we will go.

A-hunting we will go,

A-hu-u-u-u-u-u-u-u-u-unt,

A-hu-unting we will go!

And then the next verses:

The uncaverned fox like li-ightning flies,

His cunning’s all awake,

To gain the race he e-eager tries,

To gain the race he e-eager tries,

His fo-orfeit li-ife the sta-a-a-ake,

His fo-orfeit life the stake.

Yet a-hunting we will go.

A-hunting we will go,

A-hu-u-u-u-u-u-u-u-u-unt,

A-hu-unting we will go!

At last his strength to faintness worn,

Poor Reynard ceases flight;

He stopped dramatically and sounded the kill – and then Emma joined for the finale:

Then hungry, homeward we-e return,

Then hungry, homeward we-e return,

To fe-east awa-ay the ni-i-i-ight,