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Love. Plenty and variety.

James. But, sir, you must have some poultry.

Love. No; I'll have none.

James. Indeed sir, you should.

Love. Well, then,-kill the old hen, for she has done laying. James. Mercy! sir, how the folks will talk of it; indeed, people say enough of you already.

Love. Eh! why what do the people say, pray?

James. Ah, sir, if I could be assured you would not be angry. Love. Not at all; for I'm always glad to hear what the world says of me.

James. Why, sir, since you will have it then, they make a jest of you every where; nay, of your servants, on your account. One says, you pick a quarrel with them quarterly, in order to find an excuse to pay them no wages.

Love. Poh! poh!

James. Another says, you were taken one night stealing your own oats from your own horses.

Love. That must be a lie; for I never allow them any.

James. In a word, you are the by-word every where; and you are never mentioned, but by the names of covetous, stingy, scraping, old

Love. Get along, you impudent villain!

James. Nay, sir, you said you wouldn't be angry.
Love. Get out, you dog! you-

SELECTION IV.

ALDERMAN SMUGGLER-SIR HARRY WILDAIR-JOHN.—Anony

mous.

Sir Harry. Dear Mr. Alderman, I'm your most devoted and humble servant.

Alderman Smuggler. My best friend, Sir Harry, you're welcome to England.

Sir H. I'll assure you, sir, there's not a man in the king's dominions I am gladder to meet, dear, dear Mr. Alderman. (Bowing very low.)

Ald. S. Oh! my good sir, you travelers have the kindest, the most obliging ways with

you.

Sir H. There is a business, Mr. Alderman, fallen out, which you may oblige me infinitely by-I am very sorry that I am forced to be troublesome; but necessity, Mr. Alderman—

Ald. S. Ay, sir, as you say, necessity-But upon my word, dear sir, I am very short of money at present, but—

Sir H. That's not the matter, sir; I'm above an obligation that way; but the business is, I'm reduced to an indispensable necessity of being obliged to you for a beating. Here, take this cane.

Ald. S. A beating, Sir Harry! ha, ha, ha! I beat a knight baronet! An alderman turned cudgel-player! ha, ha, ha! Sir H. Upon my word, sir, you must beat me, or I'll beat you; take your choice.

Ald. S.

Sir H.

Psha! psha! you jest.

Nay, 'tis sure as fate; so my dear, dear Mr. Alderman, I hope you'll pardon my curiosity. (Strikes him.) Ald. S. Curiosity! Deuce take your curiosity, sir. What d'ye mean?

Sir H. Nothing at all. I'm but in jest, good sir.

Ald. S. Oh! I can take any thing in jest; but a man might imagine, by the smartness of the stroke, that you were in downright earnest.

Sir H. Not in the least, sir; (Strikes him.) not in the least, indeed, dear sir.

Ald. S. Pray, good sir, no more of your jests; for they are the bluntest jests that I ever knew.

Sir H. (Strikes him.) I heartily beg your pardon, with all my heart, sir.

Ald. S. Pardon, sir! well sir, that is satisfaction enough from a gentleman: but seriously now, Sir Harry, if you pass any more of your jests upon me, I shall grow angry.

Sir H. I humbly beg your permission to break one or two more. (Srikes him.)

Ald. S. Oh! oh! sir, you'll certainly break my bones. Are you mad, sir? John! John! murder, felony, manslaughter, murder! (Runs about.)

Sir H. Sir, I beg you ten thousand pardons; but I am absolutely compelled to it, upon my honor, sir; nothing can be more averse to my inclination, than to jest with my honest, dear, loving, obliging friend, the alderman. (Striking him all the time.) (Enter John.)

John. Oh! goodness! Sir Harry's murdering the poor old

man.

Ald. S. Oh! John, oh! John, I have been beaten in jest, till I am almost murdered in good earnest.

John. Oh! for charity's sake, Sir Harry, remember what you are doing-forbear sir, or I'll raise the neighborhood.

(Aside.) Though, to tell the truth, the old rogue richly deserves it, and for my part I enjoy the joke. (Sir H. takes snuff.) Ald. S. Now, sir, I will have amends, sir, before I leave the place, sir; how durst you use me thus ?

Sir H.

Ald. S. Sir H. eyes.)

Ald. S.

Sir?

Sir, I say that I will have satisfaction.
Oh! sir, with all my heart.

(Throws snuff in his

Oh! murder, blindness, fire! oh! John, John! get (Exit with John.)

me some water! water, fire, water!

Sir H. How pleasant is resenting an injury without passion! 'tis the beauty of revenge.

Let statesmen plot, and under business groan,
And, settling public quiet, lose their own;
I make the most of life,- -no hour misspend,
Pleasure's the mean, and pleasure is my end.
No spleen, no trouble, shall my time destroy;
Life's but a span, I'll every inch enjoy.

IRISH COURTESY.

SELECTION V.

STRANGER

-O'CALLAGHAN.—Sedley.

Stranger. I have lost my way, good friend; can you assist me in finding it?

O'Callaghan. Assist you in finding it, sir? ay, by my faith and troth, and that I will, if it was to the world's end and further too. Str. I wish to return by the shortest route to the Black Rock. O'Cal. Indade, and you will, so plase your honor's honor— and O'Callaghan's own self shall show you the way, and then you can't miss it, you know.

Str. I would not give you so much trouble, Mr. O'Callaghan. O'Cal. It is never a trouble, so plase your honor, for an Irishman to do his duty. (Bowing.)

Str. Whither do you travel, friend?

O'Cal. To Dublin, so plase your honor-sure all the world knows that Judy O'Flannaghan will be married to-morrow, God willing, to Pat Ryan; and Pat, you know, is my own fosterbrother, because why, we had but one nurse betwane us, and that was my own mother-but she died one day, the Lord rest her swate soul! and left me an orphan, for my father married again, and his new wife was the devil's own child, and did nothing but bate me from morning till night-Och, why did I not die before I was born to sec that day, for, by St. Patrick, the woman's heart was as cold as a hailstone.

Str. But what reason could she have for treating you so unmercifully, Mr. O'Callaghan?

O'Cal. Ah, your honor, and sure enough there are always rasons as plenty as pratees for being hardhearted. And I was no bigger than a dumpling at the time, so I could not help myself, and my father did not care to help me, and so I hopped the twig, and parted old Nick's darling; och, may the devil find her wherever she goes.—But here I am alive and lapeing, and going to see Pat married; and faith, to do him justice, he's as honest a lad as any within ten miles of us, and no disparage. ment neither, and I love Pat, and I love all his family, ay, by my shoul do I, every mother's skin of them—and by the same token, I have traveled many a long mile to be present at his wedding. Str. Your miles in Ireland are much longer than ours, I believe.

O'Cal. Indade, and you may belave that, your honor, because why, St. Patrick measured them in his coach, you know. Och, by the powers!—the time has been-but, 'tis no matter, not a single copper at all at all now belongs to the family—but as I was saying, the day has been, ay, by my troth and the night too, when the O'Callaghans, good luck to them, held their heads up as high as the best; and though I have not a rod of land belonging to me, but what I hire, I love my country, and would halve my last pratee with every poor creature that has none.

Str. Pray how does the bride appear, Mr. O'Callaghan ? O' Cal. Och, by my shoul, your honor, she's a nate article— and then she will be rigged out as gay as a lark and as fine as a peacock; because why, she has a great lady for her godmother, long life and success to her, who has given Judy two milch cows, and five pounds in hard money-and Pat has taken as dacent apartments as any in Dublin-a nate comely parlor as you'd wish to see, just six fate under ground, with a nice beautiful ladder to go down-and all so complate and gentale, and comfortable as a body may say—

Str. Nothing like comfort, Mr. O'Callaghan.

O'Cal. Faith, and you may say that, your honor. (Rubbing his hands.) Comfort is comfort, says I to Mrs. O'Callaghan, when we are all sated so cleverly around a great big turf fire, as merry as grigs, with the dear little grunters snoring so swately in the corner, defying wind and weather, with a dry thatch, and a sound conscience to go to slape upon—

Str. A good conscience makes a soft pillow.

O'Cal. Och, jewel, sure it is not the best beds that make the best slapers; for there's Kathleen and myself can slape like

two great big tops, and our bed is none of the softest-because why, we slape on the ground, and have no bed at all at all.

Str. It is a pity, my honest fellow, that you should ever want one. There-(Giving him a guinea.)-Good by, Mr. O'Callaghan.

O'Cal. I'll drink your honor's health, that I will—and may God and the blessed Virgin bless you and yours, as long as grass grows and water runs.

SELECTION VI.

ROBIN—SNACKS—SERVANT.-Allingham.

(A table with decanters and glasses.)

Robin. Well, Snacks, this is very good stuff, I don't know as ever I drank any before; what do you call this, Snacks? Snacks. Red port wine; an it please your lordship.

Rob. Yes, red port wine pleases his lordship.—I wonder where this comes from.-Oh! from the Red Sea, I suppose. Snacks. No, my lord; there's plenty of spirits there, but not wine, I believe.

Rob. Well, one more thing full; only one, because you know, now I am a lord, I must not make a beast of myself;— that's not like a nobleman, you know.

Snacks. Your lordship must do as your lordship pleases. Rob. Must I then give us t'other sup.

Snacks. I think his lordship is getting rather forward.— I'll bring my daughter upon the carpet presently. (Aside.) (Enter Servant.)

Serv. Please you, master Snacks, here's John the carter says he's so lame he can't walk, and he hopes you'll let him have the pony, to-morrow, to ride by the wagon.

Snacks. Can't walk, can't he?-lame is he?

Serv. Yes, sir.

Snacks. And what does he mean by being lame at this busy time?-tell him he must walk; it's my will.

Rob. (Aside to Servant.) You, sir, bring me John's whip, will you ?-(Exit Servant.)-That's right, Snacks; the lazy fellow, what business has he to be lame!

Snacks. Oh, please your lordship, it's as much as I can do to keep these fellows in order.

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