Chapter II: Act I

SCENE I.--[_Night._]--_Torc Cregan, the Residence of Mrs. Cregan,
on the Banks of Killarney. House_, L. 2 E.; _window facing
Audience--light behind--light to work in drop at back. Stage open at
back. Music--seven bars before curtain._

_Enter_ HARDRESS CREGAN, _from house_, L.

_Hard_ [_Going up_ C.] Hist! Danny, are you there?

DANNY _appearing from below, at back_.

_Danny_ Is it yourself, Masther Hardress?

_Hard_ Is the boat ready?

_Danny_ Snug under the blue rock, sir.

_Hard_ Does Eily expect me to-night?

_Danny_ Expict is it? Here is a lether she bade me give yes; sure the young thing is never aisy when you are away. Look, masther, dear, do ye see that light, no bigger than a star beyant on Muckross Head?

_Hard_ Yes, it is the signal which my dear Eily leaves burning in our chamber.

_Danny_ All night long she sits beside that light, wid her face fixed on that lamp in your windy above.

_Hard_ Dear, dear Eily! after all here’s asleep, I will leap from my window, and we’ll cross the lake.

_Danny_ [_Searching._] Where did I put that lether?

_Enter_ KYRLE DALY _from house_, L.

_Kyrle_ [L.] Hardress, who is that with you?

_Hard_ [C.] Only Mann, my boatman.

_Kyrle_ That fellow is like your shadow.

_Danny_ [R.] Is it a cripple like me, that would be the shadow of an illegant gintleman like Mr. Hardress Cregan?

_Kyrle_ [L.] Well, I mean that he never leaves your side.

_Hard_ [C.] And he never _shall_ leave me. Ten years ago he was a fine boy--we were foster-brothers, and playmates--in a moment of passion, while we were struggling, I flung him from the gap rock into the reeks below, and thus he was maimed for life.

_Danny_ Arrah! whist aroon! wouldn’t I die for yez? didn’t the same mother foster us? Why, wouldn’t ye break my back if it plazed ye, and welkim! Oh, Masther Kyrle, if ye’d seen him nursin’ me for months, and cryin’ over me, and keenin’! Sin’ that time, sir, my body’s been crimpin’ up smaller and smaller every year, but my heart is gettin’ bigger for him every day.

_Hard_ Go along, Danny.

_Danny_ Long life t’ye, sir! I’m off.

[_Runs up and descends rocks_, C. _to_ R.

_Kyrle_ Hardress, a word with you. Be honest with me--do you love Anne Chute?

_Hard_ Why do you ask?

_Kyrle_ Because we have been fellow-collegians and friends through life, and the five years that I have passed at sea have strengthened, but have not cooled, my feelings towards you. [_Offers hand._

_Enter_ MRS. CREGAN, _from house_, L.

_Hard_ [L.] Nor mine for you, Kyrle. You are the same noble fellow as ever. You ask me if I love my cousin Anne?

_Mrs. C_ [C., _between them_.] And I will answer you, Mr. Daly.

_Hard_ [R.] My mother!

_Mrs. C_ [C.] My son and Miss Chute are engaged. Excuse me, Kyrle, for intruding on your secret, but I have observed your love for Anne with some regret. I hope your heart is not so far gone as to be beyond recovery.

_Kyrle_ [L.] Forgive me, Mrs. Cregan, but are you certain that Miss Chute really is in love with Hardress?

_Mrs. C_ Look at him! I’m sure no girl could do that and doubt it.

_Kyrle_ But I’m not a girl, ma’am; and sure, if you are mistaken--

_Hard_ My belief is that Anne does not care a token for me, and likes Kyrle better.

_Mrs. C_ [C.] You are an old friend of my son, and I may confide to you a family secret. The extravagance of my husband left this estate deeply involved. By this marriage with Anne Chute we redeem every acre of our barony. My son and she have been brought up as children together, and don’t know their true feelings yet.

_Hard_ Stop, mother, I know this: I would not wed my cousin if she did not love me, not if she carried the whole county Kerry in her pocket, and the barony of Kenmare in the crown of her hat.

_Mrs. C_ Do you hear the proud blood of the Cregans?

_Hard_ Woo her, Kyrle, if you like, and win her if you can. I’ll back you.

_Enter_ ANNE CHUTE, _from house_, L.

_Anne_ [L. C.] So will I--What’s the bet?

_Mrs. C_ Hush!

_Anne_ I’d like to have bet on Kyrle.

_Hard_ Well, Anne, I’ll tell you what it was.

_Mrs. C_ [C.] Hardress!

_Anne_ [L. C.] Pull in one side aunt, and let the boy go on.

_Hard_ [R.] Kyrle wanted to know if the dark brown colt, Hardress Cregan, was going to walk over the course for the Anne Chute Stakes, or whether it was a scrub-race open to all.

_Anne_ I’m free-trade--coppleens, mules and biddys.

_Mrs. C_ How can you trifle with a heart like Kyrle’s?

_Anne_ Trifle! his heart can be no trifle, if he’s all in proportion.

_Enter_ SERVANT, _from house_, L.

_Servant_ Squire Corrigan, ma’am, begs to see you.

_Mrs C_ At this hour, what can the fellow want? Show Mr. Corrigan here. [_Exit_ SERVANT _into house_, L.] I hate this man; he was my husband’s agent, or what the people here call a middle-man--vulgarly polite, and impudently obsequious.

_Hard_ [R.] Genus squireen--a half sir, and a whole scoundrel.

_Anne_ I know--a potatoe on a silver plate: I’ll leave you to peel him. Come, Mr. Daly, take me for a moonlight walk, and be funny.

_Kyrle_ Funny, ma’am, I’m afraid I am--

_Anne_ You are heavy, you mean; you roll through the world like a hogshead of whisky; but you only want tapping for pure spirits to flow out spontaneously. Give me your arm. [_Crossing_, R.] Hold that glove now. You are from Ballinasloe, I think?

_Kyrle_ I’m Connaught to the core of my heart.

_Anne_ To the roots of your hair, you mean. I bought a horse at Ballinasloe fair that deceived me; I hope you won’t turn out to belong to the same family.

_Kyrle_ [R. C.] What did he do?

_Anne_ Oh! like you, he looked well enough--deep in the chest as a pool--a-dhiol, and broad in the back as the Gap of Dunloe--but after two days’ warm work he came all to pieces, and Larry, my groom, said he’d been stuck together with glue.

_Kyrle_ [R.] Really, Miss Chute! [_Music._--_Exeunt_, R. 1 E.

_Hard_ [_Advancing, laughing._] That girl is as wild as a coppleen,--she won’t leave him a hair on the head. [_Goes up._

_Enter_ SERVANT, _showing in_ CORRIGAN, _from house_, L.

[_Exit_ SERVANT, L.

_Corrigan_ [L.] Your humble servant, Mrs. Cregan--my service t’ye, ’Squire--it’s a fine night, entirely.

_Mrs. C_ [C.] May I ask to what business, sir, we have the honor of your call?

_Corrig_ [_Aside_, L. C.] Proud as a Lady Beelzebub, and as grand as a queen. [_Aloud._] True for you, ma’am; I would not have, come, but for a divil of a pinch I’m in entirely. I’ve got to pay £8,000 to-morrow or lose the Knockmakilty farms.

_Mrs. C_ Well, sir?

_Corrig_ And I wouldn’t throuble ye--

_Mrs. C_ Trouble me, sir?

_Corrig_ Iss, ma’am--ye’d be forgettin’ now that mortgage I have on this property. It ran out last May, and by rights--

_Mrs. C_ It will be paid next month.

_Corrig_ Are you reckonin’ on the marriage of Mister Hardress and Miss Anne Chute?

_Hard_ [_Advancing_, R.] Mr. Corrigan, you forget yourself.

_Mrs. C_ Leave us, Hardress, a while. [HARDRESS _retires_, R.] Now, Mr. Corrigan, state, in as few words as possible, what you demand.

_Corrig_ Mrs. Cregan, ma’am, you depend on Miss Anne Chute’s fortune to pay me the money, but your son does not love the lady, or, if he does, he has a mighty quare way of showing it. He has another girl on hand, and betune the two he’ll come to the ground, and so bedad will I.

_Mrs. C_ That is false--it is a calumny, sir!

_Corrig_ I wish it was, ma’am. D’ye see that light over the lake? your son’s eyes are fixed on it. What would Anne Chute say if she knew that her husband, that is to be, had a mistress beyant--that he slips out every night after you’re all in bed, and like Leandher, barrin’ the wettin’, he sails across to his sweetheart?

_Mrs. C_ Is this the secret of his aversion to the marriage? Fool! fool! what madness, and at such a moment.

_Corrig_ That’s what I say, and no lie in it.

_Mrs. C_ He shall give up this girl--he must!

_Corrig_ I would like to have some security for that. I want, by to-morrow, Anne Chute’s written promise to marry him, or my £8,000.

_Mrs. C_ It is impossible, sir; you hold ruin over our heads.

_Corrig_ Madam, it’s got to hang over your head or mine.

_Mrs. C_ Stay; you know that what you ask is out of our power--you know it--therefore this demand only covers the true object of your visit.

_Corrig_ ’Pon my honor! and you are as ’cute, ma’am, as you are beautiful!

_Mrs. C_ Go on, sir.

_Corrig_ Mrs. Cregan, I’m goin’ to do a foolish thing--now, by gorra I am! I’m richer than ye think, maybe, and if you’ll give me your _personal_ security, I’ll take it.

_Mrs. C_ What do you mean?

_Corrig_ I meant that I’ll take a lien for life on _you_, instead of the mortgage I hold on the Cregan property. [_Aside._] That’s nate, I’m thinkin’.

_Mrs. C_ Are you mad?

_Corrig_ I am--mad in love with yourself, and that’s what I’ve been these fifteen years. [_Music through dialogue, till_ ANNE CHUTE _is off_.

_Mrs. C_ Insolent wretch! my son shall answer and chastise you. [_Calls._] Hardress!

_Hard_ [_Advancing._] Madam.

_Enter_ ANNE CHUTE _and_ KYRLE, R.

_Corrig_ Miss Chute! }

_Hard_ Well, mother? } [_Together._]

_Anne_ Well, sir? }

_Mrs. C_ [_Aside._] Scoundrel! he will tell her all and ruin us! [_Aloud._] Nothing. [_Turns aside._

_Corrig_ Your obedient.

_Anne_ Oh! [_Crosses with_ KYRLE _and exit_, L. U. E.--_Music ceases._

_Corrig_ You are in my power, ma’am. See, now, not a sowl but myself knows of this secret love of Hardress Cregan, and I’ll keep it as snug as a bug in a rug, if you’ll only say the word.

_Mrs. C_ Contemptible hound, I loathe and despise you!

_Corrig_ I’ve known that fifteen years, but it hasn’t cured my heart ache.

_Mrs. C_ And you would buy my aversion and disgust!

_Corrig_ Just as Anne Chute buys your son, if she knew but all. Can he love his girl beyant, widout haten this heiress he’s obliged to swallow?--ain’t you sthriven to sell him? But you didn’t feel the hardship of being sold till you tried it on yourself.

_Mrs. C_ I beg you, sir, to leave me.

_Corrig_ That’s right, ma’am--think over it, sleep on it. To-morrow, I’ll call for your answer. Good evenin’ kindly.

[_Music._--_Exit_ CORRIGAN, _in house_, L.

_Mrs. C_ Hardress.

_Hard_ What did he want?

_Mrs. C_ He came to tell me the meaning of yonder light upon Muckross Head.

_Hard_ Ah! has it been discovered? Well, mother, now you know the cause of my coldness, my indifference for Anne.

_Mrs. C_ Are you in your senses, Hardress? Who is this girl?

_Hard_ She is known at every fair and pattern in Munster as the Colleen Bawn--her name is Eily O’Connor.

_Mrs. C_ A peasant girl--a vulgar, barefooted beggar!

_Hard_ Whatever she is, love has made her my equal, and when you set your foot upon her you tread upon my heart.

_Mrs. C_ ’Tis well, Hardress. I feel that perhaps I have no right to dispose of your life and your happiness--no, my dear son--I would not wound you--heaven knows how well I love my darling boy, and you shall feel it. Corrigan has made me an offer by which you may regain the estate, and without selling yourself to Anne Chute.

_Hard_ What is it? Of course you accepted it?

_Mrs. C_ No, but I will accept, yes, for your sake--I--I will. He offers to cancel this mortgage if--if--I will consent to--become his wife.

_Hard_ You--you, mother? Has he dared--

_Mrs. C_ Hush! he is right. A sacrifice must be made--either you or I must suffer. Life is before you--my days are well nigh past--and for your sake, Hardress--for yours; my pride, my only one.--Oh! I would give you more than my life.

_Hard_ Never--never! I will not--can not accept it. I’ll tear that dog’s tongue from his throat that dared insult you with the offer.

_Mrs. C_ Foolish boy, before to-morrow night we shall be beggars--outcasts from this estate. Humiliation and poverty stand like specters at yonder door--to-morrow they will be realities. Can you tear out the tongues that will wag over our fallen fortunes? You are a child, you can not see beyond your happiness.

_Hard_ Oh, mother, mother! what can be done? My marriage with Anne is impossible.

_Enter_ DANNY MANN, _up rock, at back._

_Danny_ [R. C.] Whisht, if ye plaze--ye’re talkin’ so loud she’ll hear ye say that--she’s comin’.

_Mrs. C_ Has this fellow overheard us?

_Hard_ If he has, he is mine, body and soul. I’d rather trust him with a secret than keep it myself.

_Mrs. C_ [L. C.] I can not remain to see Anne; excuse me to my friends. The night perhaps will bring counsel, or at least resolution to hear the worst! Good night, my son.

[_Music._--_Exit into house_, L.

_Danny_ [R. C.] Oh, masther! she doesn’t know the worst! She doesn’t know that you are married to the Colleen Bawn.

_Hard_ Hush! what fiend prompts you to thrust that act of folly in my face?

_Danny_ Thrue for ye, masther! I’m a dirty mane scut to remind ye of it.

_Hard_ What will my haughty, noble mother say, when she learns the truth! how can I ask her to receive Eily as a daughter?--Eily, with her awkward manners, her Kerry brogue, her ignorance of the usages of society. Oh, what have I done?

_Danny_ Oh! vo--vo, has the ould family come to this! Is it the daughter of Mihil-na-Thradrucha, the old rope-maker of Garryowen, that ’ud take the flure as your wife?

_Hard_ Be silent, scoundrel! How dare you speak thus of my love!--wretch that I am to blame her!--poor, beautiful, angel-hearted Eily.

_Danny_ Beautiful is it! Och--wurra--wurra, deelish! The looking-glass was never made that could do her justice; and if St. Patrick wanted a wife, where would he find an angel that ’ud compare with the Colleen Bawn. As I row her on the lake, the little fishes come up to look at her; and the wind from heaven lifts up her hair to see what the divil brings her down here at all--at all.

_Hard_ The fault is mine--mine alone--I alone will suffer!

_Danny_ Why isn’t it mine? Why can’t I suffer for yez, masther dear? Wouldn’t I swally every tear in your body, every bit of bad luck in your life, and then wid a stone round my neck, sink myself and your sorrows in the bottom of the lower lake.

_Hard_ [_Placing hand on_ DANNY.] Good Danny, away with you to the boat--be ready in a few moments; we will cross to Muckross Head. [_Looks at light at back._

[_Music._--_Exit_ HARDNESS _into house_, L.

_Danny_ Never fear, sir. Oh! it isn’t that spalpeen, Corrigan, that shall bring ruin on that ould place. Lave Danny alone. Danny, the fox, will lade yez round and about, and cross the scint. [_Takes off his hat--sees letter._] Bedad, here’s the letter from the Colleen Bawn that I couldn’t find a while ago--it’s little use now. [_Goes to lower window, and reads by light from house._] “Come to your own Eily, that has not seen you for two long days. Come, acushla agrah machree. I have forgotten how much you love me--Shule, shule agrah.--Colleen Bawn.” Divil an address is on it.

_Enter_ KYRLE _and_ ANNE, L. U. E.

_Anne_ [C.] Have they gone?

_Kyrle_ [L. C.] It is nearly midnight.

_Anne_ Before we go in, I insist on knowing who is this girl that possesses your heart. You confess that you are in love--deeply in love.

_Kyrle_ I do confess it--but not even your power can extract that secret from me--do not ask me, for I could not be false, yet dare not be true. [_Exit_ KYRLE _into house_, L.

_Anne_ [L. C.] He loves me--oh! he loves me--the little bird is making a nest in my heart. Oh! I’m faint with joy.

_Danny_ [_As if calling after him._] Sir, sir!

_Anne_ Who is that?

_Danny_ I’m the boatman below, an’ I’m waitin for the gintleman.

_Anne_ What gentleman?

_Danny_ Him that’s jist left me, ma’am--I’m waitin’ on him.

_Anne_ Does Mr. Kyrle Daly go out boating at this hour?

_Danny_ It’s not for me to say, ma’am, but every night at twelve o’clock I’m here wid my boat under the blue rock below, to put him across the lake to Muckross Head. I beg your pardon, ma’am, but here’s a paper ye dropped on the walk beyant--if it’s no vally I’d like to light my pipe wid it. [_Gives it._

_Anne_ A paper I dropped! [_Goes to window--reads._

_Danny_ [_Aside._] Oh, Misther Corrigan, you’ll ruin masther will ye? aisy now, and see how I’ll put the cross on ye.

_Anne_ A love-letter from some peasant girl to Kyrle Daly! Can this be the love of which he spoke? have I deceived myself?

_Danny_ I must be off, ma’am; here comes the signal. [_Music._

_Anne_ The signal?

_Danny_ D’ye see yonder light upon Muckross Head? It is in a cottage windy; that light goes in and out three times winkin’ that way, as much as to say, “Are ye comin’?” Then if the light in that room there [_points at house above_,] answers by a wink, it manes No! but if it goes out entirely, his honor jumps from the parlor windy into the garden behind, and we’re off. Look! [_Light in cottage disappears._] That’s one. [_Light appears._] Now again. [_Light disappears._] That’s two. [_Light appears._] What did I tell you? [_Light disappears._] That’s three, and here it comes again. [_Light appears._] Wait now, and ye’ll see the answer. [_Light disappears from window_, L.] That’s my gentleman. [_Music change._] You see he’s goin’--good night, ma’am.

_Anne_ Stay, here’s money; do not tell Mr. Daly that I know of this.

_Danny_ Divil a word--long life t’ye. [_Goes up._

_Anne_ I was not deceived; he meant me to understand that he loved me! Hark! I hear the sound of some one who leaped heavily on the garden walk. [_Goes to house_ L.--_looking at back_.

_Enter_ HARDRESS, _wrapped in a boat cloak_, L. U. E.

_Danny_ [_Going down_, R. C.] All right, yer honor.

[HARDRESS _crosses at back, and down rock_, R. C.

_Anne_ [_Hiding_, L.] It is he, ’tis he.

[_Mistaking_ HARDRESS _for_ DALY--_closed in_.

SCENE II.--_The Gap of Dunloe._ [_1st grooves._] _Hour before sunrise._

_Enter_ CORRIGAN, R. 1 E.

_Corrig_ From the rock above I saw the boat leave Torc Cregan. It is now crossing the lake to the cottage. Who is this girl? What is this mysterious misthress of young Cregan?--that I’ll find out.

[MYLES _sings outside_, L.

“Oh! Charley Mount is a pretty place,
In the month of July----”

_Corrig_ Who’s that?--’Tis that poaching scoundrel--that horse stealer, Myles na Coppaleen. Here he comes with a keg of illicit whisky, as bould as Nebuckadezzar.

_Enter_ MYLES, _singing, with keg on his shoulder_, L.

Is that you, Myles?

_Myles_ No! it’s my brother.

_Corrig_ I know ye, my man.

_Myles_ Then why the divil did ye ax?

_Corrig_ You may as well answer me kindly--civility costs nothing.

_Myles_ [L. C.] Ow now! don’t it? Civility to a lawyer manes six-and-eight-pence about.

_Corrig_ [R. C.] What’s that on your shoulder?

_Myles_ What’s that to you?

_Corrig_ I am a magistrate, and can oblige you to answer.

_Myles_ Well! it’s a boulster, belongin’ to my mother’s feather bed.

_Corrig_ Stuff’d with whisky!

_Myles_ Bedad! how would I know what it’s stuff’d wid? I’m not an upholsterer.

_Corrig_ Come, Myles, I’m not so bad a fellow as ye may think.

_Myles_ To think of that now!

_Corrig_ I am not the mane creature you imagine!

_Myles_ Ain’t ye now, sir? You keep up appearances mighty well, indeed.

_Corrig_ No, Myles! I am not that blackguard I’ve been represented.

_Myles_ [_Sits on keg._] See that now--how people take away a man’s character. You are another sort of blackguard entirely.

_Corrig_ You shall find me a gentleman--liberal, ready to protect you.

_Myles_ Long life t’ye sir.

_Corrig_ Myles, you have come down in the world lately; a year ago you were a thriving horse-dealer, now you are a lazy, ragged fellow.

_Myles_ Ah, it’s the bad luck, sir, that’s in it.

_Corrig_ No, it’s the love of Eily O’Connor that’s in it--it’s the pride of Garryowen that took your heart away, and made ye what ye are--a smuggler and a poacher.

_Myles_ Thim’s hard words.

_Corrig_ But they are true. You live like a wild beast in some cave or hole in the rocks above; by night your gun is heard shootin’ the otter as they lie out on the stones, or you snare the salmon in your nets; on a cloudy night your whisky-still is going--you see, I know your life.

_Myles_ Better than the priest, and devil a lie in it.

_Corrig_ Now, if I put ye in a snug farm--stock ye with pigs and cattle, and rowl you up comfortable--d’ye think the Colleen Bawn wouldn’t jump at ye?

_Myles_ Bedad, she’d make a lape, I b’lieve--and what would I do for all this luck?

_Corrig_ Find out for me who it is that lives at the cottage on Muckross Head.

_Myles_ That’s aisy--it’s Danny Mann--no less and his ould mother Sheelah.

_Corrig_ Yes, Myles, but there’s another--a girl who is hid there.

_Myles_ Ah, now!

_Corrig_ She only goes out at night.

_Myles_ Like the owls.

_Corrig_ She’s the misthress of Hardress Cregan.

_Myles_ [_Seizing_ CORRIGAN.] Thurra mon dhiol, what’s that?

_Corrig_ Oh, lor! Myles--Myles--what’s the matter--are you mad?

_Myles_ No--that is--why--why did ye raise your hand at me in that way?

_Corrig_ I didn’t.

_Myles_ I thought ye did--I’m mighty quick at takin’ thim hints, bein’ on me keepin’ agin the gaugers--go on--I didn’t hurt ye.

_Corrig_ Not much.

_Myles_ You want to find out who this girl is?

_Corrig_ I’ll give £20 for the information--there’s ten on account.

[_Gives money._

_Myles_ Long life t’ye; that’s the first money I iver got from a lawyer, and bad luck to me, but there’s a cure for the evil eye in thim pieces.

_Corrig_ You will watch to-night?

_Myles_ In five minutes I’ll be inside the cottage itself.

_Corrig_ That’s the lad.

_Myles_ [_Aside._] I was goin’ there.

_Corrig_ And to-morrow you will step down to my office with the particulars?

_Myles_ To-morrow you shall breakfast on them.

_Corrig_ Good night, entirely. [_Exit_ CORRIGAN, L.

_Myles_ I’ll give ye a cowstail to swally, and make ye think it’s a chapter in St. Patrick, ye spalpeen? When he called Eily the misthress of Hardress Cregan, I nearly sthretched him--begorra, I was full of sudden death that minute! Oh, Eily! acushla agrah asthore machree! as the stars watch over Innisfallen, and as the wathers go round it and keep it, so I watch and keep round you, avourneen!

_Song._--MYLES.

Oh, Limerick is beautiful, as everybody knows,
The river Shannon’s full of fish, beside that city flows;
But it is not the river, nor the fish that preys upon my mind,
Nor with the town of Limerick have I any fault to find.
The girl I love is beautiful, she’s fairer than the dawn;
She lives in Garryowen, and she’s called the Colleen Bawn.
As the river, proud and bold, goes by that famed city,
So proud and cold, without a word, that Colleen goes by me!
Oh, hone! Oh, hone!

Oh, if I was the Emperor of Russia to command,
Or, Julius Cæsar, or the Lord Lieutenant of the land,
I’d give up all my wealth, my manes, I’d give up my army,
Both the horse, the fut, and the Royal Artillery;
I’d give the crown from off my head, the people on their knees,
I’d give my fleet of sailing ships upon the briny seas,
And a beggar I’d go to sleep, a happy man at dawn,
If by my side, fast for my bride, I’d the darlin’ Colleen Bawn.
Oh, hone! Oh, hone!

I must reach the cottage before the masther arrives; Father Tom is there waitin’ for this keg o’ starlight--it’s my tithe; I call every tenth keg “his riverince.” It’s worth money to see the way it does the old man good, and brings the wather in his eyes, the only place I ever see any about him--heaven bless him!

[_Sings._ _Exit_ MYLES, R.--_Music._

SCENE III.--_Interior of Eily’s Cottage on Muckross Head; fire
burning_, R. 3 E.; _table_, R. C.; _arm chair; two stools_, R. _of
table; stool_ L. _of table; basin, sugar spoon, two jugs, tobacco,
plate, knife, and lemon on table_.

FATHER TOM _discovered smoking in arm chair_, R. C.--EILY _in balcony, watching over lake_.

_Father Tom_ [_Sings._] “Tobacco is an Injun weed.” And every weed want’s wathering to make it come up; but tobacco bein’ an’ Injun weed that is accustomed to a hot climate, water is entirely too cold for its warrum nature--it’s whisky and water it wants. I wonder if Myles has come; I’ll ask Eily. [_Calls._] Eily, alanna! Eily, a suilish machree!

_Eily_ [_Turning._] Is it me, Father Tom?

_Father T_ Has he come?

_Eily_ No; his boat is half a mile off yet.

_Father T_ Half a mile! I’ll choke before he’s here.

_Eily_ Do you mean Hardress?

_Father T_ No, dear! Myles na Coppaleen--cum spiritu Hiberneuse--which manes in Irish, wid a keg of poteen.

_Enter_ MYLES, R. U. E., _down_ C.

_Myles_ Here I am, your riverince, never fear. I tould Sheelah to hurry up with the materials, knowin’ ye be dhry and hasty.

_Enter_ SHEELAH, _with kettle of water_, R. U. E.

_Sheelah_ Here’s the hot water.

_Myles_ Lave it there till I brew Father Tom a pint of mother’s milk.

_Sheelah_ Well thin, ye’ll do your share of the work, an not a ha’porth more.

_Myles_ Didn’t I bring the sperrits from two miles and more? and I deserve to have pref’rence to make the punch for his riverince.

_Sheelah_ And didn’t I watch the kettle all night, not to let it off the boil?--there now.

_Myles_ [_Quarreling with_ SHEELAH.] No, you didn’t, etc.

_Sheelah_ [_Quarreling._] Yes, I did, etc.

_Eily_ No, no; I’ll make it, and nobody else.

_Father T_ Aisy now, ye becauns, and whist; Myles shall put in the whisky, Sheelah shall put in the hot water, and Eily, my Colleen, shall put the sugar in the cruiskeen. A blessin’ on ye all three that loves the ould man. [MYLES _takes off hat_--WOMEN _curtsey--they make punch_.] See now, my children, there’s a moral in everthing, e’en in a jug of punch. There’s the sperrit, which is the sowl and strength of the man. [MYLES _pours spirit from keg_.] That’s the whisky. There’s the sugar, which is the smile of woman; [EILY _puts sugar_.] without that life is without taste or sweetness. Then there’s the lemon, [EILY _puts lemon_.] which is love; a squeeze now and again does a boy no harm; but not too much. And the hot water [SHEELAH _pours water_.] which is adversity--as little as possible if ye plaze--that makes the good things better still.

_Myles_ And it’s complate, ye see, for it’s a woman that gets into hot wather all the while. [_Pours from jug to jug._

_Sheelah_ Myles, if I hadn’t the kettle, I’d bate ye.

_Myles_ Then, why didn’t ye let me make the punch? There’s a guinea for your riverince that’s come t’ye--one in ten I got a while ago--it’s your tithe--put a hole in it, and hang it on your watch chain, for it’s a mighty great charm entirely.

[_They sit_, SHEELAH _near fire_, COLLEEN _on stool beside her_, FATHER TOM _in chair_, MYLES _on stool_, L. _of table_.

_Father T_ Eily, look at that boy, and tell me, haven’t ye a dale to answer for?

_Eily_ He isn’t as bad about me as he used to be; he’s getting over it.

_Myles_ Yes, darlin’, the storm has passed over, and I’ve got into settled bad weather.

_Father T_ Maybe, afther all, ye’d have done better to have married Myles there, than be the wife of a man that’s ashamed to own ye.

_Eily_ He isn’t--he’s proud of me. It’s only when I spake like the poor people, and say or do anything wrong, that he’s hurt; but I’m gettin’ clane of the brogue, and learnin’ to do nothing--I’m to be changed entirely.

_Myles_ Oh! if he’d lave me yer own self, and only take away wid him his improvements. Oh! murder--Eily, aroon, why wasn’t ye twins, an’ I could have one of ye, only nature couldn’t make two like ye--it would be onreasonable to ax it.

_Eily_ Poor Myles, do you love me still so much?

_Myles_ Didn’t I lave the world to folley ye, and since then there’s been neither night nor day in my life--I lay down on Glenna Point above, where I see this cottage, and I lived on the sight of it. Oh! Eily, if tears were pison to the grass there wouldn’t be a green blade on Glenna Hill this day.

_Eily_ But you knew I was married, Myles.

_Myles_ Not thin, aroon--Father Tom found me that way, and sat beside, and lifted up my soul. Then I confessed to him, and, sez he, “Myles, go to Eily, she has something to say to you--say I sent you.” I came, and ye tould me ye were Hardress Cregan’s wife, and that was a great comfort entirely. Since I knew that [_Drinks--voice in cup._] I haven’t been the blackguard I was.

_Father T_ See the beauty of the priest, my darlin’--_videte et admirate_--see and admire it. It was at confession that Eily tould me she loved Cregan, and what did I do?--sez I, “Where did you meet your sweetheart?” “At Garryowen,” sez she. “Well,” says I; “that’s not the place.” “Thrue, your riverince, it’s too public entirely,” sez she. “Ye’ll mate him only in one place,” sez I; “and that’s the stile that’s behind my chapel,” for, d’ye see, her mother’s grave was forenint the spot, and there’s a sperrit round the place, [MYLES _drinks_,] that kept her pure and strong. Myles, ye thafe, drink fair.

_Sheelah_ Come now, Eily, couldn’t ye cheer up his riverince wid the tail of a song?

_Eily_ Hardress bid me not sing any ould Irish songs, he says the words are vulgar.

_Sheelah_ Father Tom will give ye absolution.

_Father T_ Put your lips to that jug; there’s only the strippens left. Drink! and while that thrue Irish liquor warms your heart, take this wid it. May the brogue of ould Ireland niver forsake your tongue--may her music niver lave yer voice--and may a true Irishwoman’s virtue niver die in your heart!

_Myles_ Come, Eily, it’s my liquor--haven’t ye a word to say for it?

_Song_, EILY--“_Cruiskeen Lawn_.”

Let the farmer praise his grounds,
As the huntsman doth his hounds,
And the shepherd his fresh and dewy morn;
But I, more blest than they,
Spend each night and happy day.
With my smilin’ little Crusikeen Lawn, Lawn, Lawn.
_Chorus_ [_Repeat._] Gramachree, mavourneen, slanta gal avourneen,
Gramachree ma Cruiskeen Lawn, Lawn, Lawn,
With my smiling little Cruiskeen Lawn.

[_Chorused by_ MYLES, FATHER T., _and_ SHEELAH.

MYLES.

And when grim Death appears,
In long and happy years,
To tell me that my glass is run,
I’ll say, begone you slave,
For great Bacchus gave me lave
To have another Cruiskeen Lawn--Lawn--Lawn.

_Chorus.--Repeat._

Gramachree, &c., &c.

_Hard_ [_Without_, L. U. E.] Ho! Sheelah--Sheelah!

_Sheelah_ [_Rising._] Whist! it’s the master.

_Eily_ [_Frightened._] Hardress! oh, my! what will he say if he finds us here--run, Myles--quick, Sheelah--clear away the things.

_Father T_ Hurry now, or we’ll get Eily in throuble.

[_Takes keg_--MYLES _takes jugs_--SHEELAH _kettle_.

_Hard_ Sheelah, I say!

[_Exeunt_ FATHER TOM _and_ MYLES, R. U. E., _quickly_.

_Sheelah_ Comin’, Sir, I’m puttin’ on my petticoat.

[_Exit_ SHEELAH, R. U. E., _quickly_.

_Enter_ HARDRESS _and_ DANNY, L. U. E. _opening_--DANNY _immediately goes off_, R. U. E.

_Eily_ [C.] Oh, Hardress, asthore?

_Hard_ [L. C.] Don’t call me by those confounded Irish words--what’s the matter? you’re trembling like a bird caught in a trap.

_Eily_ Am I, mavou--no I mean--is it tremblin’ I am, dear?

_Hard_ What a dreadful smell of tobacco there is here, and the fumes of whisky punch, too; the place smells like a shebeen. Who has been here?

_Eily_ There was Father Tom, an’ Myles dhropped in.

_Hard_ Nice company for my wife--a vagabond.

_Eily_ Ah! who made him so but me, dear? Before I saw you, Hardress, Myles coorted me, and I was kindly to the boy.

_Hard_ Damn it, Eily, why will you remind me that my wife was ever in such a position?

_Eily_ I won’t see him again--if yer angry, dear, I’ll tell him to go away, and he will, because the poor boy loves me.

_Hard_ Yes, better than I do you mean?

_Eily_ No, I don’t--oh! why do you spake so to your poor Eily!

_Hard_ Spake so! Can’t you say speak?

_Eily_ I’ll thry, aroon--I’m sthrivin’--’tis mighty hard, but what wouldn’t I undert-tee-ta--undergo for your sa-se--for your seek.

_Hard_ Sake--sake!

_Eily_ Sake--seek--oh, it is to bother people entirely they mixed ’em up! Why didn’t they make them all one way?

_Hard_ [_Aside._] It is impossible! How can I present her as my wife? Oh! what an act of madness to tie myself to one so much beneath me--beautiful--good as she is--

_Eily_ Hardress, you are pale--what has happened?

_Hard_ Nothing--that is, nothing but what you will rejoice at.

_Eily_ What d’ye mane?

_Hard_ What do I mane! Mean--mean!

_Eily_ I beg your pardon, dear.

_Hard_ Well; I mean that after to-morrow there will be no necessity to hide our marriage, for I shall be a beggar, my mother will be an outcast, and amidst all the shame, who will care what wife a Cregan takes?

_Eily_ And d’ye think I’d like to see you dhragged down to my side--ye don’t know me--see now--never call me wife again--don’t let on to mortal that we’re married--I’ll go as a servant in your mother’s house--I’ll work for the smile ye’ll give me in passing, and I’ll be happy, if ye’ll only let me stand outside and hear your voice.

_Hard_ You’re a fool. I told you that I was bethrothed to the richest heiress in Kerry; her fortune alone can save us from ruin. To-night my mother discovered my visits here, and I told her who you were.

_Eily_ Oh! what did she say?

_Hard_ It broke her heart.

_Eily_ Hardress! is there no hope?

_Hard_ None. That is none--that--that I can name.

_Eily_ There is one--I see it.

_Hard_ There is. We were children when we were married, and I could get no priest to join our hands but one, and he had been disgraced by his bishop. He is dead. There was no witness to the ceremony but Danny Mann--no proof but his word, and your certificate.

_Eily_ [_Takes paper from her breast._] This!

_Hard_ Eily! if you doubt my eternal love, keep that security; it gives you the right to the shelter of my roof; but oh! if you would be content with the shelter of my heart.

_Eily_ And will it save ye, Hardress? And will your mother forgive me?

_Hard_ She will bless you--she will take you to her breast.

_Eily_ But you--another will take you to her breast.

_Hard_ Oh, Eily, darling, d’ye think I could forget you, machree--forget the sacrifice more than blood you give me?

_Eily_ Oh! when you talk that way to me, ye might take my life, and heart, and all. Oh! Hardress, I love you--take the paper and tare it. [HARDRESS _takes paper_.

_Enter_ MYLES C., _opening_.

_Myles_ No. I’ll be damned if he shall.

_Hard_ Scoundrel! you have been listening?

_Myles_ To every word. I saw Danny, wid his ear agin that dure, so as there was only one kay-hole, I adopted the windy. Eily, aroon, Mr. Cregan will giv’ ye back that paper; you can’t tare up an oath; will ye help him then to cheat this other girl, and to make her his mistress, for that’s what she’ll be if ye are his wife. An’ after all, what is there agin’ the crature? Only the money she’s got. Will you stop lovin’ him when his love belongs to another? No! I know it by myself; but if ye jine their hands together your love will be an adultry.

_Eily_ Oh, no!

_Hard_ Vagabond! outcast! jail bird! dare you prate of honor to me?

_Myles_ [C.] I am an outlaw, Mr. Cregan--a felon, may be--but if you do this thing to that poor girl that loves you so much--had I my neck in the rope--or my fut on the deck of a convict ship--I’d turn round and say to ye, “Hardress Cregan, I make ye a present of the contimpt of a rogue.” [_Snaps fingers._

_Music till end Act.--Enter_ FATHER TOM, SHEELAH _and_ DANNY, R. U. E.--HARDRESS _throws down paper--goes to table--takes hat_.

_Hard_ Be it so, Eily, farewell! until my house is clear of these vermin--[DANNY _appears at back_]--you will see me no more.

[_Exit_ HARDRESS, L. C., _followed by_ DANNY.

_Eily_ Hardress--Hardress! [_Going up._] Don’t leave me, Hardress!

_Father T_ [_Intercepts her._] Stop, Eily! [DANNY _returns and listens_.

_Eily_ He’s gone--he’s gone!

_Father T_ Give me that paper, Myles. [MYLES _picks it up--gives it_.] Kneel down there, Eily, before me--put that paper in your breast.

_Eily_ [_Kneeling._] Oh, what will I do--what will I do?

_Father T_ Put your hand upon it now.

_Eily_ Oh, my heart--my heart!

_Father T_ Be thee hush, and spake after me--by my mother that’s in heaven.

_Eily_ By my mother that’s in heaven.

_Father T_ By the light and the word.

_Eily_ By the light and the word.

_Father T_ Sleepin’ or wakin’.

_Eily_ Sleepin’ or wakin’.

_Father T_ This proof of my truth.

_Eily_ This proof of my truth.

_Father T_ Shall never again quit my breast.

_Eily_ Shall never again quit my breast.

EILY _utters a cry and falls--Tableau_.