Tales and Novels Volume VIII Part 47

_Christy._ Then it all comes from the little finger getting to be the master of me; for I'm confident that when sober, I was not born to be a rogue nat'rally. Was not I honest Christy once? (_ready to cry._) Oh, I'm a great penitent! But there's no help for it now.

_Biddy._ True for you, sir.

_Christy._ I'm an unfortunate cratur, and all the neighbours know it.--So, Biddy dear, I've nothing for it but to take another gla.s.s.

_Biddy._ Oh! no, sir, not when you'll be going up to the castle to the lady--you'll be in no condition.

_Christy._ Tut, girl--'twill give me heart. Let's be merry any way.

[_Exit, singing,_

"They say it was care killed the cat, That starved her, and caused her to die; But I'll be much wiser than that, For the devil a care will care I."

SCENE III.

_Widow LARKEN'S Cottage._

_Widow LARKEN, MABEL, and GILBERT._

_Gilb._ And could you doubt me, Mabel, after I told you I loved you?

_Mabel._ Never would nor could have doubted, had you once told me as much, Mr. Gilbert.

_Widow._ There was the thing, Mr. Gilbert--you know it was you that was to speak, if you thought of her.

_Gilb._ Do not you remember the rose and the shamrock?

_Widow._ Oh! she does well enough; and that's what her heart was living upon, till I killed the hope.

_Gilb._ You!--killed the hope!--I thought you were my friend.

_Widow._ And so I am, and was--but when you did not speak.

_Gilb._ If I had not loved her so well, I might have been able, perhaps, to have said more.

_Widow._ Then that's enough. Mabel mavourneen, wear the rose he give you now--I'll let you--and see it's fresh enough. She put it in water--oh!

she had hope still!

_Mabel._ And was not I right to trust him, mother?

_Gilb._ Mabel, if I don't do my best to make you happy all my days, I deserve to be--that's all! But I'm going to tell you about the new inn: that's what I have been about ever since, and I'm to have it for sixty guineas.

_Enter OWEN, rubbing his hands._

_Owen._ You see, mother, I was right about Gilbert and Mabel. But Mr.

Hope and the band is gone up to the castle. Come, come!--time to be off!--no delay!--Gilbert! Mabel, off with you! (_He pushes them off._) And glad enough ye are to go together. Mother dear, here's your bonnet and the cloak,--here round ye throw--that's it--take my arm. (_Widow stumbles as he pulls her on._) Oh, I'm putting you past your speed, mother.

_Widow._ No, no.--No fear in life for the mother that has the support of such a son.

SCENE IV.

_A large Apartment in Bannow Castle, ornamented with the Rose, Thistle, and Shamrock.--The hall opens into a lawn, where the country-people are seen dancing._

_Enter CLARA, Sir WILLIAM HAMDEN, and a train of dancers._

_Clara._ Now, sir, as we have here English, Scotch, and Irish dancers, we can have the English country-dance, the Scotch reel, and the Irish jig.

_Sir W._ Then to begin with the Irish jig, which I have never seen.

_Clara._ You shall see it in perfection.

[_An Irish jig is danced, a Scotch reel follows, and an English country-dance. When CLARA has danced down the country-dance, she goes with her partner to Sir WILLIAM HAMDEN._

_Clara._ We are going out to look at the dancers on the lawn.

_Sir W._ Take me with you, for I wish to see those merry dancers--I hear them laughing. I love to hear the country-people laugh: theirs is always _the heart's laugh._

[_Exeunt Sir WILLIAM and CLARA._

[_The dancers recommence, and after dancing for a few minutes, they go off just as Sir WILLIAM and CLARA return, entering from the hall door._

_Clara._ My dear uncle, thank you for going out among these poor people, and for speaking so kindly to them. One would think that you had lived in Ireland all your life, you know so well how to go _straight_ to Irish heads and Irish hearts by kindness, and by what they love almost as well, _humour,_ and good-humour. Thank you again and again.

_Sir W._ My dear niece, you need not thank me; for if you had nothing to do with these people--if you had never been born--I should have loved the Irish for their own sakes. How easy it is to please them! How easy to make them happy; and how grateful they are, even for a few words of kindness.

_Clara._ Yes. This I may say without partiality--whatever other faults my countrymen have, they certainly are a grateful people. My father, who knew them well, taught me from my childhood, to trust to Irish grat.i.tude.

_Sir W._ (_changing his tone_) But, on the other hand, it is my duty to watch over your Irish generosity, Clara. Have you made any more promises, my dear, since morning?

_Clara._ Oh! no, sir; and I have heartily repented of that which I made this morning: for I find that this man to whom I have promised the new inn is a sad drunken, good-for-nothing person; and as for his daughter, whom I have never yet seen--

_Sir W._ (_looking towards the entrance from the lawn_)

"But who is this? What thing of sea or land?

Female of s.e.x it seems-- That so bedeck'd, ornate and gay, Comes this way sailing."

_Enter Miss GALLAGHER._

_Miss G._ Sir, I beg pardon. But I was told Miss O'Hara would wish to speak with Christy Gallagher, and I'm his daughter--he not being very well to-night. He will be up with miss in the morning--but is confined to his bed with a pain about his heart, he took, just when I was coming away.

[_CHRISTY'S voice heard, singing, to the tune of "St. Patrick's day in the morning."_