_Catty._ Oh, I have plinty, and will swear, plase your honour, that he put me in bodily fear, and tore my jock, my blue jock, to tatters. Oh, by the vartue of this book (_snatching up a book_), and all the books that ever were shut or opened, I’ll swear to the damage of five pounds, be the same more or less. _Mr. Carv._ My good lady, _more or less_ will never do. _Catty._ Forty shillings, any way, I’ll swear to; and that’s a felony, your honour, I hope? _Mr. Carv._ Take time, and consult your conscience conscientiously, my good lady, while I swear these other men-- [_She examines the coat, holding it up to view--Mr. CARVER beckons to the Rooney party._ _Mr. Carv._ Beaten men! come forward. _Big Briny._ Not _beaten_, plase your honour, only _bet_. _Ulick of Eliogarty._ Only black eyes, plase your honour. _Mr. Carv._ You, Mr. Charley or Charles Rooney, of Killaspugbrone; you have read these examinations, and are you scrupulously ready to swear? _Catty._ He is, and _will_, plase your honour; only he’s the boy that has got no English tongue. _Mr. Carv._ I wish _you_ had none, madam, ha! ha! ha! (_The two McBRIDES laugh--the ROONIES look grave._) You, Ulick Rooney, of Eliogarty, _are these_ your examinations? _Catty._ He can’t write, nor rade writing from his cradle, plase your honour; but can make his mark equal to another, sir. It has been read to him any way, sir, plase your honour. _Mr. Carv._ And you, sir, who style yourself big Briny of Cloon--you think yourself a great man, I suppose? _Catty._ It’s what many does that has got less rason, plase your honour. _Mr. Carv._ Understand, my honest friend, that there is a vast difference between looking big and being great. _Big Briny._ I see--I know, your honour. _Mr. Carv._ Now, gentlemen, all of you, before I hand you the book to swear these examinations, there is one thing of which I must warn and apprize you--that I am most remarkably clear-sighted; consequently there can be no _thumb kissing_ with me, gentlemen. _Big Briny._ We’ll not ax it, plase your honour. _Catty._ No Rooney, living or dead, was ever guilty or taxed with the like! (_Aside to her son_) Oh, they’ll swear iligant! We’ll flog the world, and have it all our own way! Oh, I knew we’d get justice--or I’d know why. _Clerk._ Here’s the book, sir, to swear complainants. [_Mr. CARVER comes forward._ _Mr. Carv._ Wait--wait; I must hear both sides. _Catty._ Both sides! Oh, plase your honour--only bother you. _Mr. Carv._ Madam, it is my duty to have ears for all men.--Mr. Philip, now for your defence. _Catty._ He has none in nature, plase your honour. _Mr. Carv._ Madam, you have had my ear long enough--be silent, at your peril. _Catty._ Ogh--ogh!--silent! [_She groans piteously._ _Mr. Carv._ Sir, your defence, without any preamble or pre-ambulation. _Phil._ I’ve no defence to make, plase your honour, but that I’m innocent.