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Updated: June 18, 2025
"An' so she did consint, the darlin', but what the puck would she do else? God save the family! Paddy Donovan, how is your health? Molly, avourneen, I'm glad to hear that you're thrivin'. An' Peggy eh? Ah, be gorra, fadher, here's somethin' to look at! Give us the hand of you, you bloomer! Och, och! faith you're the daisey!" "Phelim," said the father, "will you behave yourself?
No, no; let us bring him first, whether he will or not, an' ax his consent aftherwards!" "I'll tell you what it is, boys," continued Connell, "I'll hould a wager, if you lave him to me, I'll bring him wid his own consint."
"I did my best for you," said Nora. "Yer bhest. A poor bhest when I've had to go. But now, Miss Nora, I aint waylaid you for nothin'. The masther has escaped this time, and you has escaped; but as shure as there is a God in heav'n, if you don't get Squire to consint to let me go back, there'll be mischief. There now, Miss Nora, I've spoken.
We've acted in accardence wid r'y'l usage, an' now make a farrumal offer av our alliance to the parents an' gyarjians av the lovely being. What do ye say, me lord? Will ye give yer consint to our proposal, an' allow yer ward to become the Quane av Spain?" At this Russell was quite overwhelmed.
"Who would I settle in life if I wouldn't settle my only son?" replied the other; "who else is there to get all I have?" "That's very true," observed the Bodagh; "but state plainly what you'll do for him on his marriage." "Do you consint to the marriage all of yees?" "That's not the question," said the other. "Divil a word I'll answer till I know whither yees do or not," said Fardorougha.
At length the approach of Phelim and his father was announced by a verse of a popular song, for singing which Phelim was famous; "A sailor coorted a farmer's daughter That lived contagious to the Isle of Man, A long time coortin', an' still discoorsin' Of things consarnin' the ocean wide; At linth he saize, 'My own dearest darlint, Will you consint for to be my bride?"
He has made the proposhal for you in form this day. Honor. And what answer from you, father? Old McB. Don't be looking so pale, I tould him he had my consint, if he could get yours. And, oh! before you speak, Honor dear, think what it would be up and down in Ballynavogue, and every other place in the county, assizes days and all, to be Mistress Gerald O'Blaney! Honor.
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