_Miss G._ Indeed, and indeed, then, Miss O’Hara, I often preach to him, but there’s no use in life preaching to him--as good preaching to the winds! for, drunk or sober, he has an answer ready at all points. It is not wit he wants, sir. _Sir W._ And he is happy in having a daughter, who knows how to make the best of his faults, I see. What an excellent landlord he will be for this new inn! _Miss G._ Oh, certainly, sir--only it’s being St. Patrick’s night, he would be more inexcusable; and as to the new inn, plase Heaven! he shall get no pace on earth till he takes an oath afore the priest against spirits, good or bad, for a twil’month to come, before ever I trust a foot of his in the new inn. _Clara._ But, ma’am, from your own appearance, I should apprehend that you would not be suited to the business yourself--I should suppose you would think it beneath you to keep an inn. _Miss G._ Why, ma’am--why, sir--you know when it is called an hotel, it’s another thing; and I’m sure I’ve a great regard for the family, and there’s nothing I wouldn’t do to oblige Miss O’Hara. _Clara._ Miss Gallagher, let me beg that if you wish to oblige me-- _Enter GILBERT._ _Sir W._ Well, Gilbert? _Gilb._ Only, sir, if you and Miss O’Hara were at leisure, sir, one Mr. Andrew Hope, the master of the band, would wish to be allowed to come in to sing a sort of a welcome home they have set to music, sir, for Miss O’Hara. _Clara._ I do believe this is the very song which that drunken man gave me this morning, and for which I gave him the promise of the inn. I shall be ashamed to hear the song. _Sir W._ Let me hear it, at all events. Desire Mr. Andrew Hope, and his merry-men-all, to walk in. [_Exit GILBERT._ _Enter Mr. HOPE and band.--Some of the country-people peep in, as if wishing to enter._ _Sir W._ Come in, my good friends. [_Enter, among others, the Widow LARKEN, and MABEL, and OWEN.--BIDDY follows timidly.--Miss GALLAGHER takes a conspicuous place.--Sir WILLIAM and CLARA continue speaking._ _Sir W._ Did Gilbert introduce his bride elect to you, Clara? _Clara._ Yes, Mabel Larken, that girl with the sweet modest countenance--and her mother, that respectable-looking woman; and her brother, I see, is here, that boy with the quick, intelligent eyes. I know all the family--know them all to be good; and these were the people I might have served! Oh, fool! fool! _Sir W._ Well, well, well, ‘tis over now, my dear Clara--you will be wiser another time. Come, Mr. Hope, give us a little flattery, to put us in good-humour with ourselves. [_The band prelude; but just as they begin, Sir WILLIAM sees CHRISTY, who is coming in softly, holding back the skirts of his coat.--Sir WILLIAM in a loud voice exclaims,_ Turn out that man! How dare you return to interrupt us, sir? Turn out that man! _Christy._ (_falling on his knees_) Oh! plase your honour, I beg your pardon for one minute: only just give me lave to _insense_ your honour’s honour. I’m not the same man at all.