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Updated: May 10, 2025
Of Mrs. Brown and Mrs. Hastings we have only to say that they were modest, sensible, unassuming women, without either parade or pretence, such, in fact, as you will generally meet among our well-bred and educated countrywomen. Lord Deilmacare was a widower, without family, and not a marrying man. Indeed, when pressed upon this subject, he was never known to deviate from the one reply.
From one mouth alone, however, proceeded, amidst a succession of hiccups, the word "transportation," which, when Lord Deilmacare heard, he changed his principle, and joined the old squire in the same mitigation of feeling. "I say, Deilmacare," shouted Sir Robert, "we must hang him high and dry." "Very well," replied his lordship, "with all my heart, Sir Robert; we must hang you high and dry."
"Well, then," proceeded the squire, with a laugh that seemed to have more than mirth in it, "are all the loyal subjects of the crown ready? Lord Deilmacare, your glass is not filled; won't you drink it?" "To be sure," replied his lordship; "I have no hatred against Papists; I get my rent by their labor; but I never wish to spoil sport get along I'll do anything."
"But, Deilmacare," said the squire, "we should only transport him." "Very good," exclaimed his lordship, emptying a bumper; "we shall only transport you, Sir Robert." "Hang him, Deilmacare!" "Very well, hang him!" "Transport him, I say, Deilmacare," from the squire. "Good again," said his lordship; "transport him, say I." And on went the drunken revel, until they scarcely knew what they said.
The old squire's loyalty rose to a very high pitch, as indeed did that of his companions, all of whom entertained the same principles, with the exception of Lord Deilmacare, whose opinions never could be got at, for thee very sufficient reason that he did not know them himself.
"I drink it, but I omit the exception," said Sir Robert, "and I wonder, sir, you would make any exception to such a toast." "I drink it," said Smellpriest, "including the rascal priest." "And I drink it," said the sheriff, "as it has been proposed." "What was it?" said Lord Deilmacare; "come, I drink it it doesn't matter. I suppose, coming from our excellent host, it must be right and proper."
Why, Oxley, the sheriff", Mr. Brown, the parson I wish he didn't lean so much to the cursed Papists, though Mr. Hastings, who is tarred with the same stick, it is whispered. Well, who next? Lord Deilmacare, a good-natured jackass a fellow who would eat a jacketful of carrion, if placed before him, with as much gout as if it were venison.
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