First performed at the Royal Lyceum Theatre,July 5th, 1862.
The same as in the Drama of the "Colleen Baen." Lord Dundreary. a Dandy of the same period.
We needn't be too particular, Thomas. Missus is going to lunch alone, and she don't know how things ought to be done.
Of course she don't—she's a low person. Why, only yesterday she ordered cook to send up suety dumplings with the haunch of venison.
What could you expect from a young 'oman brought up in an 'ovel—in an 'ovel, Thomas ?
You're right, John, in a low 'ovel. I understand she was a Hirish peasant girl.
For my part I shall look out for a new place at once.
And so shall I, and to prevent the recurrence of this haccident, I shall put at the bottom
of the advertisement, "No Hirish need apply."
That's master !
He's come back hunexpectedly.
Then we must put on the hepergne.
Here, take that,
Poor little Eily, I musn't be too hard with her. When a dashing, handsome, well educated
young fellow like me marries a girl so much beneath him in station as I have done, he must be
prepared to bear with a little want of good breeding now and then. I left the house in a huff
this morning, because she would insist upon saying " spake" instead of " speak;" and I intended
staying out all day, but I can't be deaf to the voice of love, whether it " speaks" or "
spakes;" and the voice of love said, "Go back, Hardress Cregan, and make it up with your own
Colleen Bawn, as you've done already fifty times in the
Ah, Hardress, mavourneen, an' is it come back to me ye have ?
"Is it come back to me?"—is that the way for a lady to express herself?
What does what mane ?
Can't you say " mean ?"
Sure I did say "mane."
Well, then, what do you {mane} by dressing in this low, ridiculous fashion?
Whist a minute, acushla, an' I'll tell ye.
Mrs. Hardress Cregan, I'm not a cushla. And I beg you'll not call me by any of those ridiculous names again. Is this a costume fitted for my wife ?
Well, Hardress, mavourneen —
Hardress Cregan is my name, if you please, madam.
Well, Hardress, dear, I've been trying ever so long to get used to them long clothes; but that thing like a big hen coop, barrin' it's made of wire like a rat trap, is always catching me about the ankles just as if I was a rat myself, or an otter—but I don't like it dear, indeed I don't. But I'll wear anything to please you, only you told me you had gone out for the day, and so I thought I would enjoy myself in the clothes I used to wear when you took a fancy to me, Hardress, mavour —I mean, my dear.
I can't resist her coaxing ways.
Ah, sure an' that's like yourself now.
"Mate!" "poy!"
Ah, sure, an' it isn't mate-poy ; it's a beautiful damson-tart, that I made with my own hands.
Eily, I tell you I object to my wife making tarts with her own hands.
Ah, sure, an' I washed them first.
Washed them! Girl, you don't understand your position. Only yesterday you humiliated me before company by telling a story about your feeding the pigs.
It was no story at all, at all—it was the blessed truth, which father Tom told me always to
tell. I
And the other day I actually heard of your peeling the potatoes!
Oh, hark at that now—as if you didn't know that I did it to please you, Hardress dear; when, if I had consulted my own feelings, I would have had them with the jackets on.
Jackets! Let me tell you that potatoes don't wear jackets.
Well, sure they wear overcoats anyhow !
Oh, I'm willing to learn of you. Will I break
You'll break my heart! Your low-bred ignorance is disgracing me every day. But I see I must have patience with you, and undertake your education myself. There, take the newspaper and read to me.
Oh, the first thing you come to.
Well, go on.
Oh, conflagration—fire.
Foire, is it. Ah, now I see.
Metropolis, my dear, metropolis.
Ah, you're right.
Viz.! Don't you know what that stands for ? It means " namely."
Now, sure, who would have thought that v-i-z spelt " namely ?"
Eily, I cannot stand your incorrigible ignorance any longer;
Oh, don't Hardress, dear, don't kill me—at least not on dry land. If you want to get rid of me put me in the water butt, and I'm sure Myles will jump in after me.
Myles again—that low fellow! I tell you you'll drive me to distraction—to—to—oh, murder!
Oh, Hardress, dear—don't; I'll give up the marriage lines—there—there.
Oh, bedad! it's the wrong paper I've given you. That's the washing bill that I made out in
my own handwriting this morning.
And a pretty fist it is. Why you don't call this a washing bill! What's this ?
Ah, sure Hardress dear, and you make a mistake— it's "woollen socks."
Woollen socks ! And she spells socks C-o-x. Oh, I can't stand this.
Sure it isn't dicksies I mane, Hardress, dear. It's your "dickies," mavourneen, that you wear on Thursdays when your shirt is getting dirty.
This is too much, madam ; the "dicky" is a weakness that it is a wife's first duty to keep secret from the world, —even from her husband's washerwoman. Madam, farewell!
Ah, sure an' it's the unhappy Colleen I am with all this grandeur—this fine house—
And them tall futmen. What do you want now at all at all ?
Please, mum, master says he'll not be back for the next three weeks, and perhaps not then.
And I'll go and break my heart. No I'll go and study my grammar, and learn to spake
correctly by the time that he comes back.
Faix an' it's myself entirely, my purty Colleen Bawn
Well, come in, Myles.
Is it come in, I will ?
To be sure it is.
Good luck to me, but I'll be wid ye in a minute. Here, take hold, Eily.
There let him alone, that gentleman's a friend of mine.
Didn't I tell ye go, ye blackguards ? This gintleman's a friend of Mistress Hardress Cregan's.
Well, mum, I must say that my position as servant in a respectable family ——
Which it is my position likewise ——
Myles, ma cushla, I'm glad to see you once more.
Eily mavourneen—I mane Mrs. Hardress Cregan— it's myself that's right glad to see you.
Ah ! that was a dreadful night, Myles.
Ye didn't think I was so near ye, did ye, my darlint ? Ah, you should have seen that
humpbacked ould blackguard Danny Mann roll over into the water when I put a bullet into him,
taking him for an otter. And then when I went over the other side by my patent bridge, what
should I see floating in the water but you, ma cushla. Then I offs with my coat just like this,
Ah, well, sit down, Myles, and let us have a chat; for I haven't seen you this long whiles.
That I will, ma cushla. Ah, there's a fine chair, all goold and embroidery, I'm afraid I'll spile it —
Never mind the chair, Myles ; sit down.
Is it wine ye'd have me drink, when I've got a keg of mother's milk here?
But ye want a glass, Myles ?
A glass is it ? not a bit of it.
Sir, sir, what are you doing ?
What's that to you ?
There's nothing wanted, Thomas.
Don't you want glasses, ma'am ?
Get out of this, I tell ye! and don't make me spill good liquor.
She's drinking sperrits out of a chimbley ornament !
Now, Eily dear—Mrs. Hardress Cregan I mean—if you'll just sweeten this by putting your lips to it.
No, Myles, ye must do my share for me.
Faix an' I could do a harder job nor that if it was to oblige you.
Faix, and you're right: it comes from my whiskey still down in the rock yonder. But wait
till I'm a gintleman, and it will be a sight for sore eyes to see the heap of conscience money
that will be sent to the Chancellor of the Exchequer by Myles-na-Coppaleen, Esquire.
Dear ould Father Tom, I should so like to see him.
What's the matter ?
Oh! such a thought! I am all alone to-day—you shall go and fetch Father Tom, and we'll have a quiet evening to ourselves.
That's grand; and whist, Eily, will I bring ould Shelah ?
Oh, do, Myles, and we'll have an evening in our ould style.
Bedad, me will, and there's the materials, and ye'll get the cruskeen out and we'll make an evening of it.
Oh ! look at that now; when I was so miserable to think that Myles should drop in that way, and cheer me up. I feel as happy as if I had never been stuck up in a grand house with tall futmen, and fine acquaintances.
My Lord Dundreary!
Oh, bedad! that's one of 'em—one of Hardress's grand friends. What will I do ? I'll go and
have five minutes with my grammar, and try and rub off the taste of the brogue that I may have
caught in talking to Myles.
Ah, Hardress, my dear fellow—
Ah, Mrs. Cregan, how d'ye do ?
Yes, your lordship.
Is he gone far ?
I'm sure I don't know, but he said he wouldn't be back for three weeks.
He—he'll be very tired. I—I knew a fellah once who kept on walking for a wager for three weeks; but he was a p-potman at a public house. By the bye, Mrs. Cregan, can you read telegrams ?
Oh, no, of course not. You'll excuse me asking, for if I hadn't asked you, I might have
thought you could. I have it.
Yes, my lord.
I'll go to Cork, and get the fellah who sent it to read it to me—he—he's sure to know what
it's all about. Good morning—good morning.
I'm glad I've got rid of him.
Myles-na-Coppaleen, Esquire!
" Esquire," is it ?
Them's the terms in which he axed me to announce him; though, for my own part, I must say—
Leave the room, Thomas, and show the gentleman up.
Yes, mum; but there's another gentleman and another lady, if I might call them sich.
Then show them all up.
Oh, certainly mum.
Here they are, Eily—I mane Mrs. Hardress Cregan: here's Father Tom, and here's ould Shelah.
Father Tom ! Oh, it does my heart good to see you; and Shelah too.
Oh, my Colleen ; and it's glad I am to see you in your right position, as the head of your husband's house.
Oh, an' it's the mighty fine house it is.
Hould yer tongue, ye ould ——; isn't it the good manners to make believe that yer used to all them fine things; and isn't it the long walk Father Tom's had, and maybe he'll be wanting his drop of punch.
Aisy now, Myles; it's in the grand society we are now.
Oh, Father Tom, an' is it myself that would grudge ye the drop of liquor ?
What did I tell ye, Father Tom; it isn't the Colleen—I mane Mrs. Hardress Cregan—that would grudge you the drop of liquor.
And will I run down, ma'am, to the kitchen and get the hot water ?
No ; Shelah, acushla; it's the servants I've got to bring up them things now.
Hot water, Thomas, and the spirit bottles.
Ah! whist a minute.
Hot water only, Thomas.
No offence to Mr. Hardress Cregan's whisky merchant; but I think it's the raal stuff here that Father Tom would like.
Ah, Myles, Myles, if your character were as good as your whiskey
Ah, Father Tom, and it's the right sort, anyhow; and we'll just put the keg on the pianny
here
Is it cold you'd let it be getting ?
It's all right, Thomas; you can go.
Excuse me, ma'am, but it's not all right —
Come out of this, I tell ye—and d'ye hear, bring up a pipe and some tobacco for his riverance.
A pipe! Tobacco! we don't keep such things.
Then go and buy them, Thomas.
I beg your pardon, ma'am, but I'm not aware where such low-lifed harticles are sold.
At the Blue Pig, first turning to the left, ye dirty blackguard, be off.
Sir, I ——
Go, Thomas, go.
Oh ! it's biling beautiful, it is, Myles.
Well, then, here, come along.
The pipe and tobacco.
I'd like to see ye touch it. Ye'll have a taste of Garryowen before I've done wid ye.
Well, sir; but the piano.
You may go, Thomas.
Bedad, I think he may
Yes, Eily; those happy times when we used to do the dance upon the floor; maybe you'd be above dancing, now, though ?
Oh! is it I that would be above dancing wid an ould friend, I'll show you—Father Tom, move the tables— Shelah, take them chairs out of the way. Off we goes, entirely. Hurroo!
Bedad, it's a mighty short three weeks he's been away, after all his big talk. Oh, whist a
minute—where's my grammar.
It's very strange, my lord—I'd just been to your house and heard you had come on here. It's very lucky I met you.
Very odd thing—I—I—I've often noticed that when two fellahs are going along the same street
in different directions they're very apt to meet. It
But, my lord——
What a fellow you are, stopping a man just as he is about to sneeze.
Well, my lord, the fact is, that in spite of my large fortune, I've lately been spending it at such a rate that I'm deeply embarrassed.
How very odd—I—I have often noticed that when fellahs have spent all their money, they're
often deeply embarrassed.
I've applied to you, my lord, and though you may blame my extravagance, still, if not for my own sake, for my dear wife's—By the bye, where is she ? Eily dear!
She—she's a lunatic.
Well, it's a very good thing for a man to love his
Eily, my dear, I've asked his lordship to assist me with a temporary loan, and I'm sure he'll not refuse me if you ask him.
I—I—don't lend money myself, but I know a fellow who does—charges sixty per cent., and you
take half out in ivory frigates and Scotch terriers.
But, my lord—
Ann, you don't expect me always to be following at your heels like a spaniel.
Yes I do, Mr. Daly, and you ought to be very glad to follow me about like a spaniel,
considering the money you got by marrying me. There sit down, sir, and behave yourself.
O-oh ! they're all lunatics.
By Jove ! what a purse-proud vixen she is.
Ah, Mr. Cregan, I beg your pardon really.
I'm glad to see you, Mrs. Daly—Kyrle, my dear fellow, how d'ye do ?
Oh, never mind him, he's well enough ; nothing ever ails him.
Oh, bedad, ma'am, and I'm very grateful to ye for axing. I'm purty well, thank ye.
Remarkable kind of person that Mr. Daly.
Ah, my lord, how d'ye do?
Kyrle Daly, I'm surprised at you. Didn't I tell you to sit still ?
I'm
Good gracious—before company !
Oh, they're all lunatics !
Yes, Mrs. Daly, before company. It is true that from time to time, I have found fault with
Eily, but my eyes are opened, and I now see that in her I have a wife of whom the noblest in
the land might well be proud.
W-what the devil's that ? Is it a—a rat ?
Faix, an' if it's a rat I was, I'd soon be caught— seeing the cat's let out of the bag, entirely.
That fellow here
The same to you, Mr. Cregan, and many on 'em.
What, another!
I'll tell you, Mr. Cregan.
Another!
A-all lunatics!
It means, sir, that Mrs. Cregan debarred by her education—-which, I must confess, is not first-rate—from mixing in the grand world you move in, has had a little party of her ould friends and small blame to her for that same.
Divil a ha'porth, Father Tom.
You're not angry, Hardress, dear?
Angry ? oh, dear, no, not at all. Degraded before all my friends; but, there, it does not matter, for since his lordship refuses to assist me, I'm utterly ruined, and so, instead of raising you to my level, I must come down to yours.
What is it ?
Eh, what?
My father!
Stop!
Then Eily is an heiress after all, and I am a rich man again.
Hurroo!
Hurroo!
Oh, hurroo! by all means, but they are all stark mad.