_Old McB._ Why then he has a great opinion of you too, counsellor--for he has been advising of, and telling of me, O"Blaney, of your proposhal, sir--and very sinsible I am of the honour done by you to our family, sir--and condescension to the likes of us--though, to be sure, Honor McBride, though she is my daughter, is a match for any man.
_O"Bla._ Is a match for a prince--a Prince Ragent even. So no more about condescension, my good Matthew, for love livels all distinctions.
_Old McB._ That"s very pretty of you to say so, sir; and I"ll repeat it to Honor.
_O"Bla._ Cupid is the great liveller, after all, and the only democrat Daity on earth I"d bow to--for I know you are no democrat, Mr. McBride, but quite and clane the contrary way.
_Old McB._ Quite and clane and stiff, I thank my G.o.d; and I"m glad, in spite of the vowel before your name, Mr. O"Blaney, to hear you are of the same kidney.
_O"Bla._ I"m happy to find myself agreeable to you, sir.
_Old McB._ But, however agreeable to me, as I won"t deny, it might be, sir, to see my girl made into a gentlewoman by marriage, I must observe to you--
_O"Bla._ And I"ll keep her a jaunting car to ride about the country; and in another year, as my fortune"s rising, my wife should rise with it into a coach of her own.
_Old McB._ Oh! if I"d live to see my child, my Honor, in a coach of her own! I"d be too happy--oh, I"d die contint!
_O"Bla._ (_aside_) No fear!--(_Aloud_) And why should not she ride in her own coach, Mistress Counsellor O"Blaney, and look out of the windows down upon the _Roonies_, that have the insolence to look up to her?
_Old McB._ Ah! you know _that_, then. That"s all that"s against us, sir, in this match.
_O"Bla._ But if _you_ are against Randal, no fear.
_Old McB._ I am against him--that is, against his family, and all his seed, breed, and generation. But I would not break my daughter"s heart if I could help it.
_O"Bla._ Wheugh!--hearts don"t break in these days, like china.
_Old McB._ This is my answer, Mr. O"Blaney, sir: you have my lave, but you must have hers too.
_O"Bla._ I would not fear to gain that in due time, if you would stand my friend in forbidding her the sight of Randal.
_Old McB._ I will with pleasure, that--for tho" I won"t force her to marry to plase me, I"ll forbid her to marry to displase me; and when I"ve said it, whatever it is, I"ll be obeyed. (_Strikes his stick on the ground._)
_O"Bla._ That is all I ax.
_Old McB._ But now what settlement, counshillor, will you make on my girl?
_O"Bla._ A. hundred a year--I wish to be liberal--Mr. Carver will see to that--he knows all my affairs, as I suppose he was telling you.
_Old McB._ He was--I"m satisfied, and I"m at a word myself always. You heard me name my girl"s portion, sir?
_O"Bla._ I can"t say--I didn"t mind--"twas no object to me in life.
_Old McB._ (_in a very low, mysterious tone, and slow brogue_) Then five hundred guineas is some object to most men.
_O"Bla._ Certainly, sir; but not such an object as your daughter to me: since we are got upon business, however, best settle all that out of the way, as you say at once. Of the five hundred, I have two in my hands already, which you can make over to me with a stroke of a pen. (_Rising quickly, and getting pen, ink, and books._)
_Old McB._ (_speaking very slowly_) Stay a hit--no hurry--in life. In business--"tis always most haste, worse speed.
_O"Bla._ Take your own time, my good Matthew--I"ll be as slow as you plase--only love"s quick.
_Old McB._ Slow and sure--love and all--fast bind, fast find--three and two, what does that make?
_O"Bla._ It used to make five before I was in love.
_Old McB._ And will the same after you"re married and dead. What am I thinking of? A score of bullocks I had in the fair--half a score sold in my pocket, and owing half--that"s John Dolan, twelve pound tin--and Charley Duffy nine guineas and thirteen tin pinnies and a five-penny bit: stay, then, put that to the hundred guineas in the stocking at home.
_O"Bla._ (_aside_) How he makes my mouth water: (_Aloud_) May be, Matthew, I could, that am used to it, save you the trouble of counting?
_Old McB._ No trouble in life to me ever to count my money--only I"ll trouble you, sir, if you please, to lock that door; bad to be c.h.i.n.king and spreading money with doors open, for walls has ears and eyes.
_O"Bla._ True for you. (_Rising, and going to lock the doors._)
[_Old McBRIDE with great difficulty, and very slowly, draws out of his pocket his bag of money--looking first at one door, and then at the other, and going to try whether they are locked, before he unties his bag._]
_Old McB._ (_spreads and counts his money and notes_) See me now, I wrote on some sc.r.a.p somewhere 59_l._ in notes--then hard cash, twinty pounds--rolled up silver and gould, which is scarce--but of a hundred pounds there"s wanting fourteen pounds odd, I think, or something that way; for Phil and I had our breakfast out of a one pound note of Finlay"s, and I put the change somewhere--besides a riband for Honor, which make a deficiency of fourteen pounds seven shillings and two pence--that"s what"s deficient--count it which way you will.
_O"Bla._ (_going to sweep the money off the table_) Oh! never mind the deficiency--I"ll take it for a hundred plump.
_Old McB._ (_stopping him_) Plump me no plumps--I"ll have it exact, or not at all--I"ll not part it, so let me see it again.
_O"Bla._ (_aside with a deep sigh, almost a groan_) Oh! when I had had it in my fist--almost: but "tis as hard to get money out of this man as blood out of a turnip; and I"ll be lost to-night without it.
_Old McB._ "Tis not exact--and I"m exact: I"ll put it all up again--(_he puts it deliberately into the bag again, thrusting the bag into his pocket_)--I"ll make it up at home my own way, and send it in to you by Phil in an hour"s time; for I could not sleep sound with so much in my house--bad people about--safer with you in town. Mr. Carver says, you are as good as the Bank of Ireland--there"s no going beyond that.
(_b.u.t.toning up his pockets._) So you may unlock the doors and let me out now--I"ll send Phil with all to you, and you"ll give him a bit of a receipt or a token, that would do.
_O"Bla._ I shall give a receipt by all means--all regular: short accounts make long friends. (_Unlocks the door._)
_Old McB._ True, sir, and I"ll come in and see about the settlements in the morning, if Honor is agreeable.
_O"Bla._ I shall make it my business to wait upon the young lady myself on the wings of love; and I trust I"ll not find any remains of Randal Rooney in her head.
_Old McB._ Not if I can help it, depend on that. (_They shake hands._)
_O"Bla._ Then, fare ye well, father-in-law--that"s meat and drink to me: would not ye take a gla.s.s of wine then?
_Old McB._ Not a drop--not a drop at all--with money about me: I must be in a hurry home.
_O"Bla._ That"s true--so best: recommind me kindly to Miss Honor, and say a great dale about my impatience--and I"ll be expicting Phil, and won"t shut up till he comes the night.
_Old McB._ No, don"t; for he"ll be with you before night-fall. [_Exit McBRIDE._
_O"Bla._ (_calling_) Dan! open the door, there: Dan! Joe! open the door smart for Mr. McBride! (O"BLANEY _rubbing his hands._) Now I think I may p.r.o.nounce myself made for life--success to my parts!--and here"s Pat too! Well, Pat c.o.xe, what news of the thing in hand?
_Enter PAT c.o.xE._
_Pat._ Out of hand clane! that job"s nately done. The turf-rick, sir, "s built up cliver, with the malt snug in the middle of its stomach--so were the shupervishor a conjuror even, barring he"d dale with the ould one, he"d never suspict a sentence of it.
_O"Bla._ Not he--he"s no conjuror: many"s the dozen tricks I played him afore now.