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Pat. No, sir, but my rival is.
Fit. Now for a character of myself. [Aside.] Some rich rascal, I suppose ?
Pat. Sir, I envy his riches only, because they give him a superior claim to my Norah, and for your other epithet, I'm sure he don't deserve it. Fit. How so?
Nor. Because he's an officer, and there.ore a man honour.
Fit. It's a pity, my friend, that you're not an officer: you seem to know so well what an officer should be pray, have you been in any action ?
Pat. I have seen some service in America, sir.
Pat. I'd an humble share, too, in our victory of the 15th March at Guildford, under our brave officers, Webster, Leslie, and Tarleton.
Fit. Were you in the action at Beattie's Ford ?
Pat. Here's my witness. (Takes off his hat.] I received this wound in the rescue of an officer.
Fit. By heav'n! the very soldier that saved my life. [Aside.] Then I suppose he rewarded you handsomely ?
Pat. I looked for no reward, sir. I fought-'twas my duty as a soldier: to protect a fall’n man was but an office of humanity.-Good morning to your honour.
Fit. Where are you going now, my friend ?
Fit. [Aside.) Poor fellow ! –But, my lad, I think you'd best keep the field; for, if the girl likes you, she'll certainly prefer you to your wealthy rival.
Pat. And, for that reason, I'll resign her to him. As I love her, I'll leave her to the good fortune she nierits ; 'twould be only love to myself, should I involve her in my indigence.
Fit. Well, but, my lad, take my advice, and see the girl once again before you go.
Pat. Sir, I'm oblig'd to you-you must be a goodnatur'd gentleman, and I'll take your advice.--I will venture to see my Norah once more, for, if even Father Luke turns me out of his house, I shan't be much disappointed.
Farewell, my dear Norah, adieu to sweet peace,
[Exit Patrick, R. Fit. What a noble spirit there let the embroider'd epaulet take a cheap lesson of bravery, honour, and generosity, from sixpence a day and worsted lace.
Enter Boy with a letter, L.
Fit. Ha, ha, ha! Why, yes, my little hero, I think
[Exit, unperceived, L. Fit. [Opening the letter.] Darby! a new correspondent. - [Reads.] — " This comes hopping, -duty bound.” – A curious challenge; and pray, my little friend, where is this Mr. Darby. (Looks round.) Eh! why, the herald is off–my Norah seems to have plenty of lovers here—but how has my attachment transpired? “Seven o'clock in the Elm Grove"- Well, we shall see what sort of stuff Mr. Darby is made of.
For, if you've lost your own,
And yours for ever gone.
Tender sigh and falling tear ;
Cupid, quit thy mansion bere.
Rosy Bacchus, cheer my soul;
Drown him in thy flowing bowl. (Exit, R. SCENE II.-Landscape, and Outside of Dermot's Cot
tage, R. S. E. Enter Fatuer LUKE and DERMOT, L. F. Luke. Well, now, Dermot, I've come to your house with you-what is this business?
Der. Oh, sir, I'll tell yoy.
F. Luke. Unburden your conscience to me, childspeak freely--you know I'm your spiritual confessor, so I must examine into the state of your soul-tell mehave you tapp'd the barrel of ale yet ? Der. That I have, sir, and you shall taste it.
[Éxit into the House, R. J. E. F. Luke. Ay, he wants to come round me for my ward, E.athlane. A wheedling son of a
Re-enter Dermot with ale, from House, R. s. e. My dear child, what's that ?
Der. Only your favourite brown jug, sir.
F. Luke. (Taking it.] Now, child, why will you do these things ?.
[Drinks. Der. [Aside.] l'll prime bim well before I mention Kathlane.- It's a hard heart that a sup can't soften.
F. Luke. I think, Dermot, that jug and I are old acquaintance. Der. That you are, indeed, sir,
AIR.—DERMOT. Dear sir, this brown jug, that now foams with mild ale, Out of which I now drink to sweet Kate of the Vale, Was once Toby Philpot, a thirsty old soul, As e'er crack'd a bottle, or fathom'd a bowl : In boozing about, 'twas his praise to excel, And amongst jolly topers he bore off the bell. His body, when long in the ground it had lain, And time into clay had resolv'd it again, A potter found out in its covert so snug, And with part of old Toby he form'd this brown jug, Now sacred to friendship, to mirth and mild ale, So here's to my lovely sweet Kate of the Vale.
[Exit into the House, R. S. E.
Enter DARBY, L.
F. Luke. (R. C.) Go away, Darby,-you're a rogue.
Dar. Father Luke, consent that I shall marry Kathlane.
F. Luke. You marry Kathfane, you reprobate !
Dar. Give her to me, and I'll give your rev'rence a sheep.
F. Luke. Oh, well, I always thought you were a boy that wou'd come to good-a sheep !_You shall have Katblane-You've been very wicked.
Dar. Not I, sir.
F. Luke. What! an't I your priest, and know what
AIR. FATHER Luke.
Sing, Ballynomona Oro, .
A good merry wedding for me.
Sing, Ballynomona Oro,
A good merry wedding for me,
Sing, Ballynomona Oro,
The snug little guinea for me.
Sing, Ballynomona Oro.
A good wedding dinner for nie. F. Luke. You, my dear boy, shall have Kathlane, and here she comes.
Dar. [Bowing.) Thank you, sir. [Both retire, L. Enter KATALANE, R., with a bird in a cuge.
When thou wert helpless, weak, and young,
Be grateful-pay me with a song.
Wby pant and flutter to be free? Ten thousand dangers are abroad; Then in thy small, but safe abode,
Content and cheerful sing for me.
Thou think'st not of the various ills,
I'd fain thy little life prolong ;
[Father Luke and Darby advance, l. Kat. [To Father Luke.] Is Dermot within, sir?
F. Luke. Kathlane, don't think of Dermot. (Makes signs to Darby.] Go to her, man; put your best leg foremost.
Dar, Oh, I must go and give her a kiss. (Kisses her.] He, he, he !--what sweet lips! he, he, he !--Speak for
F. Luke. Hem !-Child Kathlane. [Aside to Darby.] Is the sheep fat ?
Dar. As bacon !
F. Luke. Child, this boy will make you a good husband,- won't you, Darby?
Dar. Yes, sir.
Kat. Indeed, Father Luke, I'll have nobody but Dermot.
F. Luke. I tell you, child, Dermot's an ugly man and a bad Christian.