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_ ACT I - SCENE II
O'BLANEY'S Counting-house.
GERALD O'BLANEY alone at a desk covered with Papers.
O'Bla.
Of all the employments in life, this eternal balancing of accounts, see-saw, is the most sickening of all things, except it would be the taking the inventory of your stock, when you're reduced to invent the stock itself;--then that's the most lowering to a man of all things! But there's one comfort in this distillery business--come what will, a man has always proof spirits.
Enter PAT COXE.
Pat.
The whole tribe of Connaught men come, craving to be ped for
the oats, counsellor, due since last Serapht[1] fair.
[Footnote 1: Shrovetide.]
O'Bla.
Can't be ped to-day, let 'em crave never so.--Tell 'em Monday; and give 'em a glass of whiskey round, and that will send 'em off contint, in a jerry.
Pat. I shall--I will--I see, sir.
[Exit PAT COXE.]
O'Bla.
Asy settled that!--but I hope many more duns for oats won't be calling on me this day, for cash is not to be had:--here's bills plenty--long bills, and short bills--but even the kites, which I can fly as well as any man, won't raise the wind for me now.
Re-enter PAT.
Pat.
Tim McGudikren, sir, for his debt--and talks of the sub-sheriff, and can't wait.
O'Bla.
I don't ax him to wait; but he must take in payment,
since he's in such a hurry, this bill at thirty-one days, tell him.
Pat.
I shall tell him so, plase your honour.
[Exit PAT.]
O'Bla.
They have all rendezvous'd to drive me mad this day; but the only thing is to keep the head cool. What I'm dreading beyant all is, if that ould Matthew McBride, who is as restless as a ferret when he has lodged money with any one, should come this day to take out of my hands the two hundred pounds I've got of his--Oh, then I might shut up! But stay, I'll match him--and I'll match myself too: that daughter Honor of his is a mighty pretty girl to look at, and since I can't get her any other way, why not ax her in marriage? Her portion is to be--
Re-enter PAT.
Pat.
The protested note, sir--with the charge of the protest to the back of it, from Mrs. Lorigan; and her compliments, and to know what will she do?
O'Bla.
What will I do, fitter to ax. My kind compliments to Mrs. Lorigan,
and I'll call upon her in the course of the day, to settle it all.
Pat.
I understand, sir.
[Exit PAT.]
O'Bla.
Honor McBride's portion will be five hundred pounds on the nail--that would be no bad hit, and she a good, clever, likely girl. I'll pop the question this day.
Re-enter PAT.
Pat.
Corkeran the cooper's bill, as long as my arm.
O'Bla.
Oh! don't be bothering me any more. Have you no sinse? Can't you get shut of Corkeran the cooper without me? Can't ye quarrel with the items? Tear the bill down the middle, if necessary, and sind him away with a flay (flea) in his ear, to make out a proper bill--which I can't see till to-morrow, mind. I never pay any man on fair-day.
Pat.
(aside)
Nor on any other day.
(Aloud)
Corkeran's my cousin, counsellor, and if convanient,
I'd be glad you'd advance him a pound or two on account.
O'Bla.
'Tis not convanient was he twenty times your cousin, Pat.
I can't be paying in bits, nor on account--all or none.
Pat.
None, then, I may tell him, sir?
O'Bla.
You may--you must; and don't come up for any of 'em any more.
It's hard if I can't have a minute to talk to myself.
Pat.
And it's hard if I can't have a minute to eat
my breakfast, too, which I have not.
[Exit PAT.]
O'Bla.
Where was I?--I was popping the question to Honor McBride. The only thing is, whether the girl herself wouldn't have an objection:--there's that Randal Rooney is a great bachelor of hers, and I doubt she'd be apt to prefar him before me, even when I'd purpose marriage. But the families of the Rooneys and McBrides is at vareance--then I must keep 'em so. I'll keep Catty Rooney's spirit up, niver to consent to that match. Oh! if them Rooneys and McBrides were by any chance to make it up, I'd be undone: but against that catastrophe I've a preventative. Pat Coxe! Pat Coxe! where are you, my young man?
Enter PAT, wiping his mouth.
Pat.
Just swallowing my breakfast.
O'Bla.
Mighty long swallowing you are. Here--don't be two minutes, till you're at Catty Rooney's, and let me see how cliverly you'll execute that confidential embassy I trusted you with. Touch Catty up about her ould ancient family, and all the Kings of Ireland she comes from. Blarney her cliverly, and work her to a foam against the McBrides.
Pat.
Never fear, your honour. I'll tell her the story we agreed on, of Honor McBride meeting of Randal Rooney behind the chapel.
O'Bla.
That will do--don't forget the ring; for I mane to put another on the girl's finger, if she's agreeable, and knows her own interest. But that last's a private article. Not a word of that to Catty, you understand.
Pat.
Oh! I understand
--and I'll engage I'll compass Catty, tho' she's a cunning shaver.
O'Bla.
Cunning?--No; she's only hot tempered, and asy managed.
Pat.
Whatever she is, I'll do my best to plase you. And I expict your honour, counsellor, won't forget the promise you made me, to ask Mr. Carver for that little place--that situation that would just shute me.
O'Bla.
Never fear, never fear.
Time enough to think of shuting you, when you've done my business.
[Exit PAT.]
That will work like harm, and ould Matthew, the father, I'll speak to, myself, genteelly. He will be proud, I warrant, to match his daughter with a gentleman like me. But what if he should smell a rat, and want to be looking into my affairs? Oh! I must get it sartified properly to him before all things, that I'm as safe as the bank; and I know who shall do that for me--my worthy friend, that most consequential magistrate, Mr. Carver of Bob's Fort, who loves to be advising and managing of all men, women, and children, for their good. 'Tis he shall advise ould Matthew for my good. Now Carver thinks he lades the whole county, and ten mile round--but who is it lades him, I want to know? Why, Gerald O'Blaney.--And how? Why, by a spoonful of the universal panacea, flattery--in the vulgar tongue, flummery.
(A knock at the door heard.)
Who's rapping at the street?--Carver of Bob's Fort himself, in all his glory this fair-day. See then how he struts and swells. Did ever man, but a pacock, look so fond of himself with less rason? But I must be caught deep in accounts, and a balance of thousands to credit.
(Sits down to his desk, to account books.)
Seven thousand, three hundred, and two pence.
(Starting and rising.)
Do I see Mr. Carver of Bob's Fort?--Oh! the honour--
Mr. Carv.
Don't stir, pray--I beg--I request--I insist.
I am by no means ceremonious, sir.
O'Bla.
(bustling and setting two chairs)
No, but I'd wish to show respect proper to him
I consider the first man in the county.
Mr. Carv.
(aside)
Man! gentleman, he might have said.
[Mr. CARVER sits down and rests himself consequentially.]
O'Bla.
Now, Mr. Carver of Bob's Fort, you've been over fartiguing yourself--
Mr. Carv.
For the public good. I can't help it, really.
O'Bla.
Oh! but, upon my word and honour, it's too much: there's rason in all things. A man of Mr. Carver's fortin to be slaving! If you were a man in business, like me, it would be another thing. I must slave at the desk to keep all round. See, Mr. Carver, see!--ever since the day you advised me to be as particular as yourself in keeping accounts to a farthing, I do, to a fraction, even like state accounts, see!
Mr. Carv.
And I trust you find your advantage in it, sir.
Pray, how does the distillery business go on?
O'Bla.
Swimmingly! ever since that time, Mr. Carver, your interest at the castle helped me at the dead lift, and got that fine took off. 'Tis to your purtiction, encouragement, and advice entirely, I owe my present unexampled prosperity, which you prophesied; and Mr. Carver's prophecies seldom, I may say never, fail to be accomplished.
Mr. Carv.
I own there is some truth in your observation.
I confess I have seldom been mistaken or deceived
in my judgment of man, woman, or child.
O'Bla.
Who can say so much?
Mr. Carv.
For what reason, I don't pretend to say; but the fact ostensibly is, that the few persons I direct with my advice are unquestionably apt to prosper in this world.
O'Bla.
Mighty apt! for which rason I would wish to trouble you for your unprecedently good advice on another pint, if it, would not be too great a liberty.
Mr. Carv.
No liberty at all, my good Gerald--I am always ready to advise--only to-day--certainly, the fair day of Ballynavogue, there are so many calls upon me, both in a public and private capacity, so much business of vital importance!
O'Bla.
(aside)
Vital importance!--that is his word on all occasions. (Aloud) May be then, (oh! where was my head?) may be you would not have breakfasted all this time? and we've the kittle down always in this house, (rising) Pat!--Jack!--Mick!--Jenny! put the kittle down.
Mr. Carv.
Sit down, sit still, my worthy fellow.
Breakfasted at Bob's Fort, as I always do.
O'Bla.
But a bit of cake--a glass of wine, to refrish and replinish nature.
Mr. Carv.
Too early--spoil my dinner. But what was I going to say?
O'Bla.
(aside)
Burn me, if I know; and I pray all the saints you may never recollect.
Mr. Carv.
I recollect. How many times do you think I was stopped on horseback coming up the street of Ballynavogue?--Five times by weights and measures imperiously calling for reformation, sir. Thirteen times, upon my veracity, by booths, apple-stalls, nuisances, vagabonds, and drunken women. Pigs without end, sir--wanting ringing, and all squealing in my ears, while I was settling sixteen disputes about tolls and customs. Add to this, my regular battle every fair-day with the crane, which ought to be any where but where it is; and my perputual discoveries of fraudulent kegs, and stones in the butter! Now, sir, I only ask, can you wonder that I wipe my forehead? (wiping his forehead).
O'Bla.
In troth, Mr. Carver, I cannot! But these are the pains and penalties of being such a man of consequence as you evidently are;--and I that am now going to add to your troubles too by consulting you about my little pint!
Mr. Carv.
A point of law, I dare to say;
for people somehow or other have got such a prodigious opinion of my law.
(Takes snuff.)
O'Bla.
(aside)
No coming to the pint till he has finished his own panygeric.
Mr. Carv.
And I own I cannot absolutely turn my back on people. Yet as to poor people, I always settle them by telling them, it is my principle that law is too expensive for the poor: I tell them, the poor have nothing to do with the laws.
O'Bla.
Except the penal.
Mr. Carv.
True, the civil is for us, men of property; and no man should think of going to law, without he's qualified. There should be licenses.
O'Bla.
No doubt. Pinalties there are in plinty; still those who can afford should indulge. In Ireland it would as ill become a gentleman to be any way shy of a law-shute, as of a duel.
Mr. Carv.
Yet law is expensive, sir, even to me.
O'Bla.
But 'tis the best economy in the end; for when once you have cast or non-shuted your man in the courts, 'tis as good as winged him in the field. And suppose you don't get sixpence costs, and lose your cool hundred by it, still it's a great advantage; for you are let alone to enjoy your own in pace and quiet ever after, which you could not do in this county without it. But the love of the law has carried me away from my business: the pint I wanted to consult you about is not a pint of law; 'tis another matter.
Mr. Carv.
(looking at his watch)
I must be at Bob's Fort, to seal my despatches for the castle.
And there's another thing I say of myself.
O'Bla.
(aside)
Remorseless agotist!
Mr. Carv.
I don't know how the people all have got such an idea of my connexions at the castle, and my influence with his Excellency, that I am worried with eternal applications: they expect I can make them all gaugers or attorney-generals, I believe. How do they know I write to the castle?
O'Bla.
Oh! the post-office tells asy by the big sales (seals) to your despatches--(aside)--which, I'll engage, is all the castle ever, rades of them, though Carver has his Excellency always in his mouth, God help him!
Mr. Carv.
Well, you wanted to consult me, Gerald?
O'Bla.
And you'll give me your advice, which will be conclusive, law,
and every thing to me. You know the McBrides--would they be safe?
Mr. Carv.
Very safe, substantial people.
O'Bla.
Then here's the thing, Mr. Carver: as you recommend them, and as they are friends of yours--I will confess to you that, though it might not in pint of interest be a very prudent match, I am thinking that Honor McBride is such a prudent girl, and Mrs. Carver has taken her by the hand, so I'd wish to follow Mrs. Carver's example for life, in taking Honor by the hand for better for worse.
Mr. Carv.
In my humble opinion you cannot do better; and I can tell you a secret
--Honor will have no contemptible fortune in that rank of life.
O'Bla.
Oh, fortune's always contemptible in marriage.
Mr. Carv.
Fortune! sir?
O'Bla.
(aside)
Overshot.
(Aloud)
In comparison with the patronage and protection or
countenance she'd have from you and your family, sir.
Mr. Carv.
That you may depend upon, my good Gerald,
as far as we can go; but you know we are nothing.
O'Bla.
Oh, I know you're every thing--every thing on earth--particularly with ould McBride; and you know how to speak so well and iloquent, and I'm so tongue-tied and bashful on such an occasion.
Mr. Carv.
Well, well, I'll speak for you.
O'Bla.
A thousand thanks down to the ground.
Mr. Carv.
(patting him on the back as he rises)
My poor
Gerald.
O'Bla.
Then I am poor Gerald in point of wit, I know;
but you are too good a friend to be calling me
poor to ould McBride--you can say what I can't say.
Mr. Carv.
Certainly, certainly; and you may depend on me.
I shall speak my decided opinion; and I fancy
McBride has sense enough to be ruled by me.
O'Bla.
I am sure he has--only there's a Randal Rooney, a wild young man, in the case.
I'd be sorry the girl was thrown I away upon Randal.
Mr. Carv.
She has too much sense:
the father will settle that, and I'll settle the father.
[Mr. CARVER going.]
O'Bla.
(following, aside)
And who has settled you?
Mr. Carv.
Don't stir--don't stir--men of business must be nailed to a spot
--and I'm not ceremonious.
[Exit Mr. CARVER.]
O'Bla.
Pinned him by all that's cliver!
[Exit O'BLANEY.] _
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