Str. Whither do you travel, friend? O' Cal. To Dublin, so plase your honor-sure all the world knows that Judy O'Flannaghan will be married to-morrow, God willing, to Pat Ryan; and Pat, you know, is my own fosterbrother-because why, we had but one nurse betwane us, and that was my own mother; but she died one day—the Lord rest her swate soul! and left me an orphan, for my father married again, and his new wife was the devil's own child, and did nothing but bate me from morning till night. Och, why did I not die before I was born to see that day! for, by St. Patrick, the woman's heart was as cold as a hailstone. Str. But what reason could she have for treating you so unmercifully, Mr. O'Callaghan? O' Cal. Ah, your honor, and sure enough there are always rasons as plenty as pratees for being hard-hearted. And I was no bigger than a dumpling at the time, so I could not help myself, and my father did not care to help me, and so I hopped the twig, and parted old Nick's darling; och, may the devil find her wherever she goes. But here I am alive and lapeing, and going to see Pat married; and faith, to do him justice, he's as honest a lad as any within ten miles of us, and no disparagement, neither; and I love Pat, and I love all his family; ay, by my shoul do I, every mother's skin of them—and by the same token, I have travelled many a long mile to be present at his wedding. Str. Your miles in Ireland are much longer than ours, I believe. O' Cal. Indade, and you may belave that, your honor, because why, St. Patrick measured them in his coach, you know. Och, by the powers!-the time has been-but, 'tis no matter, not a single copper at all at all now belongs to the family-but as I was saying, the day has been, ay, by my troth, and the night too, when the O'Callaghans, good luck to them, held their heads up as high as the best; and though I have not a rod of land belonging to me, but what I hire, I love my country, and would halve my last pratee with every poor creature that has none. Str. Pray, how does the bride appear, Mr. O'Callaghan ? O' Cal. Och, by my shoul, your honor, she's a nate article; and then she will be rigged out as gay as a lark and as fine as a peacock; because why, she has a great lady for her godmother, long life and success to her, who has given Judy two milch cows and five pounds in hard money; and Pat has taken as dacent apartments as any in Dublin-a nate comely parlor as you'd wish to see, just six fate under ground, with a nice beautiful ladder to go down-and all so complate and gentale, and comfortable, as a body may say— Str. Nothing like comfort, Mr. O'Callaghan. O' Cal. Faith, and you may say that, your honor. (Rubbing his hands.) Comfort is comfort, says I to Mrs. O'Callaghan, when we are all sated so cleverly around a great big turf fire, as merry as grigs, with the dear little grunters snoring so swately in the corner, defying wind and weather, with a dry thatch, and a sound conscience to go to slape upon Str. A good conscience makes a soft pillow. O'Cal. Och, jewel, sure it is not the best beds that make the best slapers; for there's Kathleen and myself can slape like two great big tops, and our bed is none of the softest-because why, we slape on the ground, and have no bed at all at all. Str. It is a pity, my honest fellow, that you should ever want one. There-(giving him a guinea)-good-by, Mr. O'Callaghan. O' Cal. I'll drink your honor's health, that I will; and may God and the blessed Virgin bless you and yours, as long as grass grows and water runs. SEDLEY. 13. ALDERMAN SMUGGLER-SIR HARRY WILDAIR-JOHN. Sir Harry. Dear Mr. Alderman, I'm your most devoted and humble servant. Alderman Smuggler. My best friend, Sir Harry, you're welcome to England. Sir H. I'll assure you, sir, there's not a man in the king's dominions I am gladder to meet, dear, dear Mr. Alderman. (Bowing very low.) Ald. S. Oh! my good sir, you travellers have the kindest, the most obliging ways with you. Sir H. There is a business, Mr. Alderman, fallen out, which you may oblige me infinitely by-I am very sorry that I am forced to be troublesome-but necessity, Mr. Alderman— Ald. S. Ay, sir, as you say, necessity. But, upon my word, dear sir, I am very short of money at present, but— Sir H. That's not the matter, sir; I'm above an obligation that way; but the business is, I am reduced to an indispensable necessity of being obliged to you for a beating. Here, take this cane. Ald. S. A beating, Sir Harry! ha, ha, ha! I beat a knight baronet! An alderman turned cudgel-player! ha, ha, ha! Sir H. Upon my word, sir, you must beat me, or I'll beat you; take your choice. Ald. S. Psha! psha! you jest. Sir H. Nay, 'tis sure as fate; so my dear, dear Mr. Alderman, I hope you'll pardon my curiosity. (Strikes him.) Ald. S. Curiosity! Deuce take your curiosity, sir. What d'ye mean? Sir H. Nothing at all. I'm but in jest, good sir. Ald. S Oh! I can take any thing in jest; but a man might imagine, by the smartness of the stroke, that you were in downright earnest. Sir H. Not in the least, sir-(strikes him); not in the least, indeed, dear sir. Ald. S. Pray, good sir, no more of your jests; for they are the bluntest jests that I ever knew. Sir H. (strikes him). I heartily beg your pardon, with all my heart, sir. Ald. S. Pardon, sir! well, sir, that is satisfaction enough from a gentleman; but seriously now, Sir Harry, if you pass any more of your jests upon me, I shall grow angry. Sir H. I humbly beg your permission to break one or two more. (Strikes him.) Ald. S. Oh! oh! sir, you'll certainly break my bones. Are you mad, sir? John! John! murder, felony, manslaughter, murder! (Runs about.) Sir H. Sir, I beg you ten thousand pardons; but I am absolutely compelled to it, upon my honor, sir; nothing can be more averse to my inclination than to jest with my honest, dear, loving, obliging friend, the alderman. (Striking him all the time.) (Enter John.) John. Oh! goodness! Sir Harry's murdering the poor old man. Ald. S. Oh! John, oh! John, I have been beaten in jest till I am almost murdered in good earnest. John. Oh! for charity's sake, Sir Harry, remember what you are doing; forbear, sir, or I'll raise the neighborhood. (Aside.) Though, to tell the truth, the old rogue richly deserves it, and for my part, I enjoy the joke. (Sir H. takes snuff.) Ald. S. Now, sir, I will have amends, sir, before I leave the place, sir; how durst you use me thus ? Sir. H. Sir? Ald. S. Sir, I say that I will have satisfaction. eyes.) (Throws snuff in his Oh! John, John! get Ald. S. Oh! murder, blindness, fire! me some water! water, fire, water! (Exit with John.) Sir H. How pleasant is resenting an injury without passion! 'is the beauty of revenge. Let statesmen plot, and under business groan, ANONYMOUS. 14. SIR PHILIP BLANDFORD-ASHFIELD. Sir Philip. Come hither. I believe you hold a farm of mine. Ashfield. Ees, zur, I do, at your zarvice. Sir P. I hope a profitable one. Ash. Zometimes it be, zur. But thic year it be all t'other way, as 'twur; but I do hope, as our landlords have a tightish big lump of the good, they'll be zo kind-hearted as to take a little bit of the bad. Sir P. It is but reasonable. I conclude, then, you are in my debt. Ash. Ees, zur, I be; at your zarvice. Sir P. How much? Ash. I do owe ye a hundred and fifty pounds; at your zar vice. Sir P. Which you can't pay. Ash. Not a varthing, zur; at your zarvice. Sir P. Well, I am willing to allow you every indulgence. Ash. Be you, zur? that be deadly kind. Dear heart! it will make my auld dame quite young again, and I don't think helping a poor man will do your honor's health any harm; I don't, indeed, zur. I had a thought of speaking to your worship aboat it; but then, thinks I, the gentleman mayhap be one of those that do like to do a good turn, and not have a word zaid about it: zo, zur, if you had not mentioned what I owed you, I am zure I never should; should not, indeed, zur. Sir P. Nay, I will wholly acquit you of the debt, on con dition Ash. Ees, zur. Sir P. On condition, I say, that you instantly turn out that boy-that Henry. Ash. Turn out Henry! Ha, ha, ha! Excuse my tittering, zur; but you bees making your vun of I, zure. Sir P. I am not apt to trifle: send him instantly from you, or take the consequences. Ash. Turn out Henry! I do vow I shouldn't know how to set about it; I should not, indeed, zur. Sir P. You hear my determination. If you disobey, you know what will follow. I'll leave you to reflect on it. (Exit.) Ash. Well, zur, I'll argify the topic, and then you may wait upon me, and I'll tell ye. (Makes the motion of turning out.) I should be deadly awkard at it, vor zartain. However, I'll put the case. Well! I goes whiztling whoam; noa, drabbit it! I shouldn't be able to whiztle a bit, I'm zure. Well! I goes whoam, and I zees Henry sitting by my wife, mixing up someit to comfort the wold zoul, and take away the pain of her rheumatics. Very well! Then Henry places a chair vor I by the vire-side, and zays—“ Varmer, the horses be fed, the sheep be folded, and you have nothing to do but to zit down, smoke your pipe, and be happy!" Very well! (Becomes affected.) Then I zays, "Henry, you be poor and friendless; so you must turn out of my house directly." Very well! Then my wife stares at I; reaches her hand towards the vire-place, and throws the poker at my head. Very well! Then Henry gives a kind of aguish shake, and getting up, sighs from the bottom of his heart; then holding up his head like a king, zays, “ Varmer, I have too long been a burden to you. Heaven protect you, as you have me. Farewell! I go.' Then I zays, "If thee doez, I'll be smashed." (With great energy.) Hollo! you Mister Sir Philip! you may come in. (Enter Sir Philip Blandford.) Zur, I have argified the topic, and it wouldn't be pretty; zo I can't. Sir P. Can't! Ash. Well, zur, there is but another word: I won't. Sir P. Indeed! 1 |