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Honor, where would be your resolution to forbid him your presence? Then there's but one way to be right I'll lave home entirely. Down, proud stomach! You must go to service, Honor McBride. There's Mrs. Carver, kind-hearted lady, is wanting a girl she's English, and nice; may be I'd not be good enough; but I can but try, and do my best; any thing to plase the father. O'BLANEY'S Counting-house.
I'll tell the truth now, plase your honour that was the cause of the lies I mentioned about the ring and chapel I'll tell more, if you'll bind Mr. Randal to keep the pace. Randal. I? ye dirty dog! Didn't I tell ye already, I'd not dirty my fingers with the likes of you? Pat. All Mr. Gerald O'Blaney's aim was to ruin Mr. Randal Rooney, and set him by the ears with that gentleman, Mr.
Mistress Catherine Rooney, and all you good people, there is a great deal of difference between obtaining information and encouraging common informers. Catty. There is, I'm sinsible. 'Twas O'Blaney's fau't but he's down, and don't trample on the fallen. Old McB. Don't defind O'Blaney! Oh! the villain, to rob me of all my hard arnings. Mrs.
But I don't like to be going into the fair on foot, when I been always used to go in upon my pillion behind my husband when living, and my son Randal, after his death. Wait, who comes here? 'Tis Gerald O'Blaney's, the distiller's, young man, Pat Coxe: now we'll larn all and whether O'Blaney can lend me the loan of a horse or no. A good morrow to you, kindly, Mr. Pat Coxe. Enter PAT COXE. Pat.
Then all this time I'm sensible I've been behaving and looking little better than like a fool, or an innocent. But I hope I won't be so bad when the lady shall speak to me. GERALD O'BLANEY'S Counting-house. O'BLANEY alone. O'Bla. Then I wonder that ould Matthew McBride is not here yet. But is not this Pat Coxe coming up yonder? Ay. Well, Pat, what success with Catty? Enter PAT COXE, panting.
Oh, worse and worse! to make all public; and if once we go to law, there's an end of love for ever. O'BLANEY'S House. O'BLANEY and CATTY ROONEY. Catty. And didn't ye hear it, counshillor? the uproar in the town and the riot? oh! you'd think the world was throwing out at windows. See my jock, all tattered! Didn't ye hear! O'Bla.
Old McB. You was you did, plase your honour, and I beg your honour's pardon, and Mr. Counsellor O'Blaney's. Mr. Carv. And did not you give your consent? I must think him a very ill-used person. Old McB. I gave my consint only in case he could win hers, plase your honour, and he could not and I could not break my own daughter's heart, and I beg your honour's pardon. Mr. Carv.
He is cunning enough, but I'm cuter nor he I have him in my power, so I have! and I'll give the shupervizor a scent of the malt in the turf-stack and a hint of the spirits in the tan-pit and it's I that will like to stand by innocent, and see how shrunk O'Blaney's double face will look forenent the shupervizor, when all's found out, and not a word left to say, but to pay ruined hand and foot!
To make your mind easy, I promised to appoint a young man to that place, a week ago, by Counsellor O'Blaney's special recommendation. So there must be some mistake. PAT, alone. Pat. Mistake? ay, mistake on purpose. So he never spoke! so he lied! my master that was praching me! And oh, the dirty lie he tould me! Now I can't put up with that, when I was almost perjuring myself for him at the time.
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