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_ ACT III - SCENE II
Miss GALLAGHER and GILBERT at a Tea-Table.
Gilb.
(aside)
Now would I give five golden guineas this minute that her father,
or any mortal man, woman, or child in the varsal world,
would come in and say something; for 'tis so awk'ard for I to be
sitting here, and I nothing to say to she.
Miss G.
(aside)
When will the man pay me the compliment to speak, I wonder?
Wouldn't any body think he'd no tongue in that mouth of his,
screwed up, and blushing from ear to ear?
[Enter CHRISTY.]
Christy.
Hoo! hoo! hoo!--How's this--both of yees mute as fishes the moment I come in? Why I hard you just now, when my back was turned, singing like turtle-doves--didn't I, Florry?
Miss G.
Indeed, sir, as to turtle-doves, I'm not sinsible; but Mr. Gilbert requisted of me to be favouring him with a song, which I was complying with, though I'm not used to be singing without my piano.
Christy.
(aside)
Sorrow take your piano! you're not come there yet.
Miss G.
I wonder the drum-major isn't come yet. Does he expect tea can be keeping hot for him to the end of time? He'll have nothing but slop-dash, though he's a very genteel man. I'm partial to the military school, I own, and a High lander too is always my white-headed boy.
Gilb.
(astonished)
Her white-headed boy!
--Now, if I was to be hanged for it, I don't know what that means.
Miss G.
Now where can you have lived, Mr. Gilbert, not to know that?
Christy.
(aside)
By the mass, he's such a matter-o'-fact-man,
I can't get round him with all my wit.
Miss G.
Here's the drum-major!
Scarlet's asy seen at a distance, that's one comfort!
[Enter Mr. HOPE.]
Mr. H.
I'm late, Miss Florinda, I fear, for the tea-table; but I had a wee-wee bit of business to do for a young friend, that kept me.
Miss G.
No matter, major, my tapot defies you.
Take a cup a tea. Are you fond of music, major?
Mr. H.
Very fond of music, ma'am--do you sing or play?
Miss G.
I do play--I plead guilty to that I own. But in this hole that we are in, there's no room fitting for my piano. However, in the new inn which we have got now, I'll fix my piano iligant in the back-parlour.
Mr. H.
In the mean time, Miss Florinda, will you favour us with a song?
Christy.
And I'll be making the punch, for I'm no songstress.
Biddy! Biddy Doyle! hot water in a jerry.
Miss G.
Indeed I'm not used to sing without my piano;
but, to oblige the major, I'll sing by note.
Miss GALLAGHER sings.
Softly breathing through the heart,
When lovers meet no more to part;
That purity of soul be mine,
Which speaks in music's sound divine.
'Midst trees and streams of constant love,
That's whispered by the turtle-dove;
Sweet cooing cushat all my pray'r,
Is love in elegance to share.
Mr. H.
That's what I call fine, now! Very fine that.
[GILBERT nods.]
Miss G.
(aside)
Look at that Englishman, now,
that hasn't a word of compliment to throw to a dog, but only a nod.
(Aloud)
'Tis the military that has always the souls for music, and for the ladies
--and I think, gentlemen, I may step for'ard,
and say I'm entitled to call upon you now:
--Mr. Gilbert, if you've ever a love-song in your composition.
Gilb.
Love-song I can't say, ma'am; but such as I have
--I'm no great hand at composition
--but I have one song--they call it, My choice of a wife.
Miss G.
Pray let's have it, sir.
Christy.
Now for it, by Jabus.
Mr. H.
Give it us, Mr. Gilbert.
[Enter BIDDY with hot water, and exit.]
GILBERT sings.
There's none but a fool will wed on a sudden,
Or take a fine miss that can't make a pudding;
If he get such a wife, what would a man gain, O!
But a few ballad-tunes on a wretched piano?
Some ladies than peacocks are twenty times prouder,
Some ladies than thunder are twenty times louder;
But I'll have a wife that's obliging and civil--
For me, your fine ladies may go to the devil!
Miss G.
(rising)
Sir, I comprehend your song, coarse as it is,
and its moral to boot, and I humbly thank ye, sir.
(She curtsies low.)
And if I live a hundred year, and ninety-nine to the back of that,
sir, I will remember it to you, sir.
Christy.
(leaving the punch which he had been making,
comes forward with a lemon in his hand)
Wheugh! wheugh! wheugh! Ferrinafad!
Gilb.
(aside)
Ferrinafad!--the man's mad!
Miss G.
Father, go your ways back to your punch.
Here stands the only raal gentleman in company
(pointing to the drum-major),
if I'm to make the election.
Christy.
Major, you can't but drink her health for that compliment.
[He presents a glass of punch to Mr. HOPE.]
Mr. H.
Miss Gallagher's health, and a gude husband to her, and soon.
Miss G.
And soon!--No hurry for them that has choice.
Christy.
That has money, you mane, jewel. Mr. Gilbert, you did not give us your toast.
Gilb.
Your good health, ma'am--your good health, sir,
--Mr. Hope, your good health, and your fireside in Scotland, and in pa'tic'lar your good wife.
Miss G.
(starting)
Your wife, sir!
Why, sir, is't possible you're a married man, after all?
Mr. H.
Very possible, ma'am--thank Heaven and my gude Kate.
Miss G.
His gude Kate!
--Well, I hate the Scotch accent of all languages under the sun.
Christy.
In a married man, I suppose you mane, Florry?
Miss G.
This is the way with officers continually
--passing themselves for bachelors.
Christy.
Then, Florry, we'd best recommend it to the drum-major the next town he'd go into, to put up an advertisement in capitals on his cap, warning all women whom it may consarn, that he is a married man.
Miss G.
'Tis no consarn of mine, I'll assure you, sir, at any rate;
for I should scorn to think of a Scotchman any way.
And what's a drum-major, after all?
[Exit, in a passion.]
Christy.
Bo boo! bo boo! bo boo! there's a tantarara now;
but never mind her, she takes them tantarums by turns.
Now depend upon it, Mr. Gilbert,
it's love that's at the bottom of it all, clane and clear.
Gilb.
It's very like, sir--I can't say.
Christy.
Oh, but I can say--I know her, egg and bird.
The thing is, she's mad with you, and that has set her all through other.
--But we'll finish our tumbler of punch.
[Draws forwards the table, and sets chairs.]
Gilb.
(aside)
Egg and bird!--mad! All through other!
--Confound me if I understand one word the man is saying;
but I will make him understand me, if he can understand plain English.
Mr. H.
(aside)
I'll stand by and see fair play. I have my own thought.
Gilb.
Now, Mr. ----, to be plain with you at once--here's fifty guineas in gold, and if you will take them, and give me up the promise you have got of the new inn, you shall be welcome. That's all I have to say, if I was to talk till Christmas--and fewest words is best in matters of business.
Christy.
Fifty guineas in gold!--Don't part with a guinea of them, man, put 'em up again. You shall have the new inn without a word more, and into the bargain my good-will and my daughter--and you're a jantleman, and can't say no to that, any way.
Gilb.
Yes, but I can though: since you drive me to the wall, I must say no, and I do say no. And, dang it, I would have been hanged almost as soon as say so much to a father. I beg your pardon, sir, but my heart is given to another. Good evening to you.
Christy.
(holding him as he attempts to go)
Take it coolly, and listen to me, and tell me
--was you ever married before, Mr. Gilbert?
Gilb.
Never.
Christy.
Then I was--and I can tell you that I found to my cost, love was all in all with me before I was married, and after I had been married a twel'-month, money was all in all with me; for I had the wife, and I had not the money, and without the money, the wife must have starved.
Gilb.
But I can work, sir, and will,
head, hands, and heart, for the woman I love.
Christy.
Asy said--hard done. Mabel Larken is a very pretty girl. But wait till I tell you what Kit Monaghan said to me yesterday. I'm going to be married, sir, says he to me. Ay, so you mintioned to me a fortnight ago, Kit, says I--to Rose Dermod, isn't it? says I. Not at all, sir, says he--it is to Peggy McGrath, this time. And what quarrel had you to Rose Dermod? says I. None in life, sir, says he; but Peggy McGrath had two cows, and Rose Dermod had but the one, and in my mind there is not the differ of a cow betwix' one woman and another. Do you understand me now, Mr. Gilbert?
Gilb.
Sir, we shall never understand one another
--pray let me go, before I get into a passion.
[Breaks from CHRISTY, and exit.]
Christy.
Hollo! Hollo! Mr. Gilbert!
(GILBERT returns.)
One word more about the new inn. I've done about Florry; and, upon my conscience, I believe you're right enough--only that I'm her father, and in duty bound to push her as well as I can.
Gilb.
Well, sir, about the inn: be at a word with me;
for I'm not in a humour to be trifled with.
Mr. H.
(aside)
Fire beneath snow! who'd ha' thought it?
Christy.
Then, if it was sixty guineas instead of fifty,
I'd take it, and you should have my bargain of the inn.
Mr. H.
(aside)
I'll not say my word until I see what the bottom of the men are.
Gilb.
(aside)
Why, to make up sixty, I must sell my watch even;
but I'll do it--any thing to please Mabel.
(Aloud)
Well, sixty guineas, if you won't give it for less.
Christy.
Done!
(Eagerly.)
Mr. H.
Stay, stay, Mr. Gilbert! Have a care, Mr. Gallagher!--the lady might not be well pleased at your handing over her written promise, Mr. Gallagher--wait a wee bit. Don't conclude this bargain till you are before the lady at the castle.
Gilb.
So best--no doubt.
Christy.
All one to me--so I pocket the sixty.
Mr. H.
(aside to GILBERT)
Come off.
Gilb.
We shall meet then at the castle to-night:
till then, a good day to you, Mr. Gallagher.
[Exeunt GILBERT and Mr. HOPE.]
Christy.
Good night to ye kindly, gentlemen. There's a fool to love for you now! If I'd ax'd a hundred, I'd ha' got it. But still there's only one thing. Ferrinafad will go mad when she learns I have sold the new inn, and she to live on in this hole, and no place for the piano. I hope Biddy did not hear a sentence of it.
(Calls)
Biddy! Biddy Doyle! Biddy, can't ye?
Enter Biddy.
Biddy.
What is it?
Christy.
Did you hear any thing? Oh, I see ye did by your eyes.
Now, hark'ee, my good girl: don't mention a sentence
to Ferrinafad of my settling the new inn,
till the bargain's complate, and money in both pockets--you hear.
Biddy.
I do, sir. But I did not hear afore.
Christy.
Becaase, she, though she's my daughter,
she's crass--I'll empty my mind to you, Biddy.
Biddy.
(aside)
He has taken enough to like to be talking to poor Biddy.
Christy.
Afore Florry was set up on her high horse by that little independency her doting grandmother left her, and until she got her head turned with that Ferrinafad edication, this Florry was a good girl enough. But now what is she?--Given over to vanities of all sorts, and no comfort in life to me, or use at all--not like a daughter at all, nor mistress of the house neither, nor likely to be well married neither, or a credit to me that way! And saucy to me on account of that money of hers I liquidated unknown'st.
Biddy. True for ye, sir.
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 glass.
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." _
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