_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.