_Mr. Carv._ I protest it makes me almost--almost--blow my nose.

_Catty._ Why, then, you're a good cratur. But who tould you I was a vixen, dear--plase your honour?

_Mr. Carv._ Your friend that is gone.

_Catty._ O'Blaney?

_Randal._ Frind! He never was frind to none--least of all to hisself.

_Catty._ Oh! the double-distilled villain!--he tould your honour I was a vixen, and fond of law. Now would you believe what I'm going to till you? he tould me of his honour--

_Mr. Carv._ Of me, his patron?

_Catty._ Of you, his patron, sir. He tould me your honour--which is a slander, as we all here can witness, can't we? by his honour's contempt of Pat c.o.xe--yet O'Blaney said you was as fond and proud of having informers about you as a rat-catcher is of rats.

_Mr. Carv._ Mistress Catherine Rooney, and all you good people,--there is a great deal of difference between obtaining information and encouraging common informers.

_Catty._ There is, I'm sinsible. (_Aside to her son_) Then he's a good magistrate--except a little pompous, mighty good. (_Aloud to Mr.

CARVER_) Then I beg your honour's pardon for my bad behaviour, and bad language and all. 'Twas...o...b..aney's fau't--but he's down, and don't trample on the fallen.

_Old McB._ Don't defind O'Blaney! Oh! the villain, to rob me of all my hard arnings. Mrs. Catty, I thank you as much as a heavy heart can, for you're ginerous; and you, Randal, for your--

_Randal._ Is it for loving her, when I can't help it?--who could?

_Old McB._ (_sighing deeply_) But still it goes against the father's heart to see his child, his pride, go pinnyless out of his house.

_Phil._ Then, sir, father dear, I have to tell you she is not pennyless.--But I would not tell you before, that Randal, and Catty too, might show themselves what they are. Honor is not pennyless: the three hundred you gave me to lodge with O'Blaney is safe here. (_Opening his pocket-book._)--When I was going to him with it as you ordered, by great luck, I was stopped by this very quarrel and riot in Ballynavogue:--he was the original cause of kicking up the riot, and was summoned before your honour,--and here's the money.

_Old McB._ Oh, she's not pinnyless! Well, I never saw money with so much pleasure, in all my long days, nor could I think I'd ever live to give it away with half so much satisfaction as this minute. I here give it, Honor, to Randal Rooney and you:--and bless ye, child, with the man of _your_ choice, who is _mine_ now.

_Mrs. Carv._ (_aside to Mr. CARVER_) My dear, I wish to invite all these good people to a wedding dinner; but really I am afraid I shall blunder in saying their names--will you prompt me?

_Mr. Carv._ (_aside to Mrs. CARVER_) Why really I am not used to be a prompter; however, I will condescend to prompt _you_, Mrs. Carver. (_He prompts, while she speaks._)

_Mrs. Carv._ Mr. Big Briny of Cloon, Mr. Ulick of Eliogarty, Mr. Charley of Killaspugbrone, and you, Mrs. Catty Rooney, and you, Mr. McBride, senior, and you, Mr. Philip McBride, no longer _flourishing Phil_; since you are now all reconciled, let me have the pleasure of giving you a reconciliation dinner, at the wedding of Honor McBride, who is an honour to her family, and Randal Rooney, who so well deserves her love.

_The McBRIDES and ROONIES join in the cry of_ Long life and great luck to your ladyship, that was always good!

_Mr. Carv._ And you comprehend that I beg that the wedding may be celebrated at Bob's Fort.

_All join in crying_, Long may your honour's honour reign over us in glory at Bob's Fort!

_Catty._ (_cracking her fingers_) A fig for the bog of Ballynascraw!--Now 'tis all Love and no Law!

THE ROSE, THISTLE,

AND

SHAMROCK.

A DRAMA.

IN THREE ACTS.

DRAMATIS PERSONae.

MEN.

SIR WILLIAM HAMDEN . . . _An Elderly English Gentleman._

CHRISTY GALLAGHER . . . . _Landlord of an Irish village inn._

MR. ANDREW HOPE . . . . . _A Drum-major in a Scotch regiment._

OWEN LARKEN . . . . . . . _The Son of the Widow Larken --a Boy of about fifteen._

GILBERT . . . . . . . . . _An English Servant of Sir William Hamden._

WOMEN.

MISS O'HARA . . . . . . . _A young Heiress--Niece of Sir William Hamden._

MISS FLORINDA GALLAGHER . _Daughter of Christy Gallagher._

THE WIDOW LARKEN . . . . _Mother of Owen and of Mabel._

MABEL LARKEN . . . . . . _Daughter of the Widow Larken._

BIDDY DOYLE . . . . . . . _Maid of the Inn._

Band of a Regiment.

SCENE.--_The Village of Bannow, in Ireland._

THE ROSE,