The Colleen Bawn. Dion Boucicault
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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.
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!
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!
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.
Myles Here I am, your riverince, never fear. I tould Sheelah to hurry up with the materials, knowin’ ye be dhry and hasty.
Sheelah Here’s the hot water.
Myles Lave it there till I brew Father Tom a pint of mother’s milk.
Sheelah