_Mr. Carv._ I protest it makes me almost--almost--blow my nose. _Catty._ Why, then, you’re a good cratur. But who tould you I was a vixen, dear--plase your honour? _Mr. Carv._ Your friend that is gone. _Catty._ O’Blaney? _Randal._ Frind! He never was frind to none--least of all to hisself. _Catty._ Oh! the double-distilled villain!--he tould your honour I was a vixen, and fond of law. Now would you believe what I’m going to till you? he tould me of his honour-- _Mr. Carv._ Of me, his patron? _Catty._ Of you, his patron, sir. He tould me your honour--which is a slander, as we all here can witness, can’t we? by his honour’s contempt of Pat Coxe--yet O’Blaney said you was as fond and proud of having informers about you as a rat-catcher is of rats. _Mr. Carv._ Mistress Catherine Rooney, and all you good people,--there is a great deal of difference between obtaining information and encouraging common informers. _Catty._ There is, I’m sinsible. (_Aside to her son_) Then he’s a good magistrate--except a little pompous, mighty good. (_Aloud to Mr. CARVER_) Then I beg your honour’s pardon for my bad behaviour, and bad language and all. ‘Twas O’Blaney’s fau’t--but he’s down, and don’t trample on the fallen. _Old McB._ Don’t defind O’Blaney! Oh! the villain, to rob me of all my hard arnings. Mrs. Catty, I thank you as much as a heavy heart can, for you’re ginerous; and you, Randal, for your-- _Randal._ Is it for loving her, when I can’t help it?--who could? _Old McB._ (_sighing deeply_) But still it goes against the father’s heart to see his child, his pride, go pinnyless out of his house. _Phil._ Then, sir, father dear, I have to tell you she is not pennyless.--But I would not tell you before, that Randal, and Catty too, might show themselves what they are. Honor is not pennyless: the three hundred you gave me to lodge with O’Blaney is safe here. (_Opening his pocket-book._)--When I was going to him with it as you ordered, by great luck, I was stopped by this very quarrel and riot in Ballynavogue:--he was the original cause of kicking up the riot, and was summoned before your honour,--and here’s the money. _Old McB._ Oh, she’s not pinnyless! Well, I never saw money with so much pleasure, in all my long days, nor could I think I’d ever live to give it away with half so much satisfaction as this minute. I here give it, Honor, to Randal Rooney and you:--and bless ye, child, with the man of _your_ choice, who is _mine_ now. _Mrs. Carv._ (_aside to Mr. CARVER_) My dear, I wish to invite all these good people to a wedding dinner; but really I am afraid I shall blunder in saying their names--will you prompt me? _Mr. Carv._ (_aside to Mrs. CARVER_) Why really I am not used to be a prompter; however, I will condescend to prompt _you_, Mrs. Carver. (_He prompts, while she speaks._)