Transcriber's Note
Italic text is indicated by _underscores_ and bold text by =equals
signs=.
THE COLLEEN BAWN;
OR, THE
BRIDES OF GARRYOWEN.
A DOMESTIC DRAMA, IN THREE ACTS.
_BY DION BOUCICAULT, ESQ._,
AUTHOR OF
The Pope of Rome, The Young Actress, The Poor of New York, The Dublin
Boy, Pauvrette, Life of an Actress, Jessie Brown, The
Octoroon, Azael, Blue Belle,
Dot. &c.
PRINTED BUT NOT PUBLISHED
_Original Cast, at Miss Laura Keene’s Theater, New York, March 27th,
1860._
CAST OF CHARACTERS.--[THE COLLEEN BAWN.]
MYLES NA COPPALEEN Mr. Dion Boucicault.
HARDRESS CREGAN Mr. H. F. Daly.
DANNY MANN Mr. Charles Wheatleigh.
KYRLE DALY Mr. Charles Fisher.
FATHER TOM Mr. D. W. Leeson.
MR. CORRIGAN Mr. J. G. Burnett.
BERTIE O’MOORE Mr. Henry.
HYLAND CREAGH Mr. Levick.
SERVANT Mr. Goodrich.
CORPORAL Mr. Clarke.
EILY O’CONNOR Miss Agnes Robertson.
ANNE CHUTE Miss Laura Keene.
MRS. CREGAN Madam Ponisi.
SHEELAH Miss Mary Wells.
KATHLEEN CREAGH Miss Josephine Henry.
DUCIE BLENNERHASSET Miss Hamilton.
COSTUMES.--PERIOD, 179--.
HARDRESS.--Green broad-skirted body coat of the time; double-breasted
light silk waistcoat, leather pantaloons, top boots, hair rather long,
steeple-crowned gold-laced hat, and white muslin cravat.
_2nd Dress_: Blue body coat, white waistcoat, white kerseymere
breeches, silk stockings, and shoes.
DALY.--Brown coat, etc., same fashion as above. _2nd Dress_: Full dress.
CREAGH, O’MOORE, and GENTLEMEN.--Evening dress.
FATHER TOM.--Broad-brimmed, low-crowned hat, faded black suit, black
riding boots, and white cravat.
DANNY. [_A hunchback._] Blue frieze jacket, corduroy breeches, yellow
waistcoat, gray stockings, shoes and buckles, and old seal-skin cap.
MYLES.--Drab great coat, with cape, red cloth waistcoat, old velveteen
breeches, darned gray stockings, and shoes.
CORRIGAN.--Black suit, top boots, and brown wig.
MRS. CREGAN.--Puce silk dress of the time, white muslin neckerchief and
powdered hair. _2nd Dress_: Handsome embroidered silk dress, jewels and
fan.
ANNE.--Gold-laced riding habit, hat and vail. _2nd Dress_: White
embroidered muslin dress, and colored sash.
EILY.--Blue merino petticoat, chintz tuck-up body and skirts, short
sleeves, blue stockings, hair plain, with neat comb, red cloak, and
hood.
THE COLLEEN BAWN.
ACT I.
SCENE I.--[_Night._]--_Torc Cregan, the Residence of Mrs. Cregan,
on the Banks of Killarney. House_, L. 2 E.; _window facing
Audience--light behind--light to work in drop at back. Stage open at
back. Music--seven bars before curtain._
_Enter_ HARDRESS CREGAN, _from house_, L.
_Hard_ [_Going up_ C.] Hist! Danny, are you there?
DANNY _appearing from below, at back_.
_Danny_ Is it yourself, Masther Hardress?
_Hard_ Is the boat ready?
_Danny_ Snug under the blue rock, sir.
_Hard_ Does Eily expect me to-night?
_Danny_ Expict is it? Here is a lether she bade me give yes; sure the
young thing is never aisy when you are away. Look, masther, dear, do ye
see that light, no bigger than a star beyant on Muckross Head?
_Hard_ Yes, it is the signal which my dear Eily leaves burning in our
chamber.
_Danny_ All night long she sits beside that light, wid her face fixed
on that lamp in your windy above.
_Hard_ Dear, dear Eily! after all here’s asleep, I will leap from my
window, and we’ll cross the lake.
_Danny_ [_Searching._] Where did I put that lether?
_Enter_ KYRLE DALY _from house_, L.
_Kyrle_ [L.] Hardress, who is that with you?
_Hard_ [C.] Only Mann, my boatman.
_Kyrle_ That fellow is like your shadow.
_Danny_ [R.] Is it a cripple like me, that would be the shadow of an
illegant gintleman like Mr. Hardress Cregan?
_Kyrle_ [L.] Well, I mean that he never leaves your side.
_Hard_ [C.] And he never _shall_ leave me. Ten years ago he was a fine
boy--we were foster-brothers, and playmates--in a moment of passion,
while we were struggling, I flung him from the gap rock into the reeks
below, and thus he was maimed for life.
_Danny_ Arrah! whist aroon! wouldn’t I die for yez? didn’t the same
mother foster us? Why, wouldn’t ye break my back if it plazed ye, and
welkim! Oh, Masther Kyrle, if ye’d seen him nursin’ me for months,
and cryin’ over me, and keenin’! Sin’ that time, sir, my body’s been
crimpin’ up smaller and smaller every year, but my heart is gettin’
bigger for him every day.
_Hard_ Go along, Danny.
_Danny_ Long life t’ye, sir! I’m off.
[_Runs up and descends rocks_, C. _to_ R.
_Kyrle_ Hardress, a word with you. Be honest with me--do you love Anne
Chute?
_Hard_ Why do you ask?
_Kyrle_ Because we have been fellow-collegians and friends through
life, and the five years that I have passed at sea have strengthened,
but have not cooled, my feelings towards you. [_Offers hand._
_Enter_ MRS. CREGAN, _from house_, L.
_Hard_ [L.] Nor mine for you, Kyrle. You are the same noble fellow as
ever. You ask me if I love my cousin Anne?
_Mrs. C_ [C., _between them_.] And I will answer you, Mr. Daly.
_Hard_ [R.] My mother!
_Mrs. C_ [C.] My son and Miss Chute are engaged. Excuse me, Kyrle,
for intruding on your secret, but I have observed your love for Anne
with some regret. I hope your heart is not so far gone as to be beyond
recovery.
_Kyrle_ [L.] Forgive me, Mrs. Cregan, but are you certain that Miss
Chute really is in love with Hardress?
_Mrs. C_ Look at him! I’m sure no girl could do that and doubt it.
_Kyrle_ But I’m not a girl, ma’am; and sure, if you are mistaken--
_Hard_ My belief is that Anne does not care a token for me, and likes
Kyrle better.
_Mrs. C_ [C.] You are an old friend of my son, and I may confide to you
a family secret. The extravagance of my husband left this estate deeply
involved. By this marriage with Anne Chute we redeem every acre of our
barony. My son and she have been brought up as children together, and
don’t know their true feelings yet.
_Hard_ Stop, mother, I know this: I would not wed my cousin if she did
not love me, not if she carried the whole county Kerry in her pocket,
and the barony of Kenmare in the crown of her hat.
_Mrs. C_ Do you hear the proud blood of the Cregans?
_Hard_ Woo her, Kyrle, if you like, and win her if you can. I’ll back
you.
_Enter_ ANNE CHUTE, _from house_, L.
_Anne_ [L. C.] So will I--What’s the bet?
_Mrs. C_ Hush!
_Anne_ I’d like to have bet on Kyrle.
_Hard_ Well, Anne, I’ll tell you what it was.
_Mrs. C_ [C.] Hardress!
_Anne_ [L. C.] Pull in one side aunt, and let the boy go on.
_Hard_ [R.] Kyrle wanted to know if the dark brown colt, Hardress
Cregan, was going to walk over the course for the Anne Chute Stakes, or
whether it was a scrub-race open to all.
_Anne_ I’m free-trade--coppleens, mules and biddys.
_Mrs. C_ How can you trifle with a heart like Kyrle’s?
_Anne_ Trifle! his heart can be no trifle, if he’s all in proportion.
_Enter_ SERVANT, _from house_, L.
_Servant_ Squire Corrigan, ma’am, begs to see you.
_Mrs C_ At this hour, what can the fellow want? Show Mr. Corrigan here.
[_Exit_ SERVANT _into house_, L.] I hate this man; he was my husband’s
agent, or what the people here call a middle-man--vulgarly polite,
and impudently obsequious.
_Hard_ [R.] Genus squireen--a half sir, and a whole scoundrel.
_Anne_ I know--a potatoe on a silver plate: I’ll leave you to peel him.
Come, Mr. Daly, take me for a moonlight walk, and be funny.
_Kyrle_ Funny, ma’am, I’m afraid I am--
_Anne_ You are heavy, you mean; you roll through the world like a
hogshead of whisky; but you only want tapping for pure spirits to flow
out spontaneously. Give me your arm. [_Crossing_, R.] Hold that glove
now. You are from Ballinasloe, I think?
_Kyrle_ I’m Connaught to the core of my heart.
_Anne_ To the roots of your hair, you mean. I bought a horse at
Ballinasloe fair that deceived me; I hope you won’t turn out to belong
to the same family.
_Kyrle_ [R. C.] What did he do?
_Anne_ Oh! like you, he looked well enough--deep in the chest as a
pool--a-dhiol, and broad in the back as the Gap of Dunloe--but after
two days’ warm work he came all to pieces, and Larry, my groom, said
he’d been stuck together with glue.
_Kyrle_ [R.] Really, Miss Chute! [_Music._--_Exeunt_, R. 1 E.
_Hard_ [_Advancing, laughing._] That girl is as wild as a
coppleen,--she won’t leave him a hair on the head. [_Goes up._
_Enter_ SERVANT, _showing in_ CORRIGAN, _from house_, L.
[_Exit_ SERVANT, L.
_Corrigan_ [L.] Your humble servant, Mrs. Cregan--my service t’ye,
’Squire--it’s a fine night, entirely.
_Mrs. C_ [C.] May I ask to what business, sir, we have the honor of
your call?
_Corrig_ [_Aside_, L. C.] Proud as a Lady Beelzebub, and as grand as a
queen. [_Aloud._] True for you, ma’am; I would not have, come, but for
a divil of a pinch I’m in entirely. I’ve got to pay £8,000 to-morrow or
lose the Knockmakilty farms.
_Mrs. C_ Well, sir?
_Corrig_ And I wouldn’t throuble ye--
_Mrs. C_ Trouble me, sir?
_Corrig_ Iss, ma’am--ye’d be forgettin’ now that mortgage I have on
this property. It ran out last May, and by rights--
_Mrs. C_ It will be paid next month.
_Corrig_ Are you reckonin’ on the marriage of Mister Hardress and Miss
Anne Chute?
_Hard_ [_Advancing_, R.] Mr. Corrigan, you forget yourself.
_Mrs. C_ Leave us, Hardress, a while. [HARDRESS _retires_, R.] Now, Mr.
Corrigan, state, in as few words as possible, what you demand.
_Corrig_ Mrs. Cregan, ma’am, you depend on Miss Anne Chute’s fortune to
pay me the money, but your son does not love the lady, or, if he does,
he has a mighty quare way of showing it. He has another girl on hand,
and betune the two he’ll come to the ground, and so bedad will I.
_Mrs. C_ That is false--it is a calumny, sir!
_Corrig_ I wish it was, ma’am. D’ye see that light over the lake? your
son’s eyes are fixed on it. What would Anne Chute say if she knew that
her husband, that is to be, had a mistress beyant--that he slips out
every night after you’re all in bed, and like Leandher, barrin’ the
wettin’, he sails across to his sweetheart?
_Mrs. C_ Is this the secret of his aversion to the marriage? Fool!
fool! what madness, and at such a moment.
_Corrig_ That’s what I say, and no lie in it.
_Mrs. C_ He shall give up this girl--he must!
_Corrig_ I would like to have some security for that. I want, by
to-morrow, Anne Chute’s written promise to marry him, or my £8,000.
_Mrs. C_ It is impossible, sir; you hold ruin over our heads.
_Corrig_ Madam, it’s got to hang over your head or mine.
_Mrs. C_ Stay; you know that what you ask is out of our power--you know
it--therefore this demand only covers the true object of your visit.
_Corrig_ ’Pon my honor! and you are as ’cute, ma’am, as you are
beautiful!
_Mrs. C_ Go on, sir.
_Corrig_ Mrs. Cregan, I’m goin’ to do a foolish thing--now, by gorra
I am! I’m richer than ye think, maybe, and if you’ll give me your
_personal_ security, I’ll take it.
_Mrs. C_ What do you mean?
_Corrig_ I meant that I’ll take a lien for life on _you_, instead of
the mortgage I hold on the Cregan property. [_Aside._] That’s nate, I’m
thinkin’.
_Mrs. C_ Are you mad?
_Corrig_ I am--mad in love with yourself, and that’s what I’ve been
these fifteen years. [_Music through dialogue, till_ ANNE CHUTE _is
off_.
_Mrs. C_ Insolent wretch! my son shall answer and chastise you.
[_Calls._] Hardress!
_Hard_ [_Advancing._] Madam.
_Enter_ ANNE CHUTE _and_ KYRLE, R.
_Corrig_ Miss Chute! }
_Hard_ Well, mother? } [_Together._]
_Anne_ Well, sir? }
_Mrs. C_ [_Aside._] Scoundrel! he will tell her all and ruin us!
[_Aloud._] Nothing. [_Turns aside._
_Corrig_ Your obedient.
_Anne_ Oh! [_Crosses with_ KYRLE _and exit_, L. U. E.--_Music ceases._
_Corrig_ You are in my power, ma’am. See, now, not a sowl but myself
knows of this secret love of Hardress Cregan, and I’ll keep it as snug
as a bug in a rug, if you’ll only say the word.
_Mrs. C_ Contemptible hound, I loathe and despise you!
_Corrig_ I’ve known that fifteen years, but it hasn’t cured my heart
ache.
_Mrs. C_ And you would buy my aversion and disgust!
_Corrig_ Just as Anne Chute buys your son, if she knew but all. Can
he love his girl beyant, widout haten this heiress he’s obliged to
swallow?--ain’t you sthriven to sell him? But you didn’t feel the
hardship of being sold till you tried it on yourself.
_Mrs. C_ I beg you, sir, to leave me.
_Corrig_ That’s right, ma’am--think over it, sleep on it. To-morrow,
I’ll call for your answer. Good evenin’ kindly.
[_Music._--_Exit_ CORRIGAN, _in house_, L.
_Mrs. C_ Hardress.
_Hard_ What did he want?
_Mrs. C_ He came to tell me the meaning of yonder light upon Muckross
Head.
_Hard_ Ah! has it been discovered? Well, mother, now you know the cause
of my coldness, my indifference for Anne.
_Mrs. C_ Are you in your senses, Hardress? Who is this girl?
_Hard_ She is known at every fair and pattern in Munster as the Colleen
Bawn--her name is Eily O’Connor.
_Mrs. C_ A peasant girl--a vulgar, barefooted beggar!
_Hard_ Whatever she is, love has made her my equal, and when you set
your foot upon her you tread upon my heart.
_Mrs. C_ ’Tis well, Hardress. I feel that perhaps I have no right to
dispose of your life and your happiness--no, my dear son--I would not
wound you--heaven knows how well I love my darling boy, and you shall
feel it. Corrigan has made me an offer by which you may regain the
estate, and without selling yourself to Anne Chute.
_Hard_ What is it? Of course you accepted it?
_Mrs. C_ No, but I will accept, yes, for your sake--I--I will. He
offers to cancel this mortgage if--if--I will consent to--become his
wife.
_Hard_ You--you, mother? Has he dared--
_Mrs. C_ Hush! he is right. A sacrifice must be made--either you or I
must suffer. Life is before you--my days are well nigh past--and for
your sake, Hardress--for yours; my pride, my only one.--Oh! I would
give you more than my life.
_Hard_ Never--never! I will not--can not accept it. I’ll tear that
dog’s tongue from his throat that dared insult you with the offer.
_Mrs. C_ Foolish boy, before to-morrow night we shall be
beggars--outcasts from this estate. Humiliation and poverty stand like
specters at yonder door--to-morrow they will be realities. Can you
tear out the tongues that will wag over our fallen fortunes? You are a
child, you can not see beyond your happiness.
_Hard_ Oh, mother, mother! what can be done? My marriage with Anne is
impossible.
_Enter_ DANNY MANN, _up rock, at back._
_Danny_ [R. C.] Whisht, if ye plaze--ye’re talkin’ so loud she’ll hear
ye say that--she’s comin’.
_Mrs. C_ Has this fellow overheard us?
_Hard_ If he has, he is mine, body and soul. I’d rather trust him with
a secret than keep it myself.
_Mrs. C_ [L. C.] I can not remain to see Anne; excuse me to my friends.
The night perhaps will bring counsel, or at least resolution to hear
the worst! Good night, my son.
[_Music._--_Exit into house_, L.
_Danny_ [R. C.] Oh, masther! she doesn’t know the worst! She doesn’t
know that you are married to the Colleen Bawn.
_Hard_ Hush! what fiend prompts you to thrust that act of folly in my
face?
_Danny_ Thrue for ye, masther! I’m a dirty mane scut to remind ye of it.
_Hard_ What will my haughty, noble mother say, when she learns the
truth! how can I ask her to receive Eily as a daughter?--Eily, with
her awkward manners, her Kerry brogue, her ignorance of the usages of
society. Oh, what have I done?
_Danny_ Oh! vo--vo, has the ould family come to this! Is it the
daughter of Mihil-na-Thradrucha, the old rope-maker of Garryowen, that
’ud take the flure as your wife?
_Hard_ Be silent, scoundrel! How dare you speak thus of my
love!--wretch that I am to blame her!--poor, beautiful, angel-hearted
Eily.
_Danny_ Beautiful is it! Och--wurra--wurra, deelish! The looking-glass
was never made that could do her justice; and if St. Patrick wanted a
wife, where would he find an angel that ’ud compare with the Colleen
Bawn. As I row her on the lake, the little fishes come up to look at
her; and the wind from heaven lifts up her hair to see what the divil
brings her down here at all--at all.
_Hard_ The fault is mine--mine alone--I alone will suffer!
_Danny_ Why isn’t it mine? Why can’t I suffer for yez, masther dear?
Wouldn’t I swally every tear in your body, every bit of bad luck in
your life, and then wid a stone round my neck, sink myself and your
sorrows in the bottom of the lower lake.
_Hard_ [_Placing hand on_ DANNY.] Good Danny, away with you to the
boat--be ready in a few moments; we will cross to Muckross Head.
[_Looks at light at back._
[_Music._--_Exit_ HARDNESS _into house_, L.
_Danny_ Never fear, sir. Oh! it isn’t that spalpeen, Corrigan, that
shall bring ruin on that ould place. Lave Danny alone. Danny, the fox,
will lade yez round and about, and cross the scint. [_Takes off his
hat--sees letter._] Bedad, here’s the letter from the Colleen Bawn
that I couldn’t find a while ago--it’s little use now. [_Goes to lower
window, and reads by light from house._] “Come to your own Eily, that
has not seen you for two long days. Come, acushla agrah machree. I have
forgotten how much you love me--Shule, shule agrah.--Colleen Bawn.”
Divil an address is on it.
_Enter_ KYRLE _and_ ANNE, L. U. E.
_Anne_ [C.] Have they gone?
_Kyrle_ [L. C.] It is nearly midnight.
_Anne_ Before we go in, I insist on knowing who is this girl that
possesses your heart. You confess that you are in love--deeply in love.
_Kyrle_ I do confess it--but not even your power can extract that
secret from me--do not ask me, for I could not be false, yet dare not
be true. [_Exit_ KYRLE _into house_, L.
_Anne_ [L. C.] He loves me--oh! he loves me--the little bird is making
a nest in my heart. Oh! I’m faint with joy.
_Danny_ [_As if calling after him._] Sir, sir!
_Anne_ Who is that?
_Danny_ I’m the boatman below, an’ I’m waitin for the gintleman.
_Anne_ What gentleman?
_Danny_ Him that’s jist left me, ma’am--I’m waitin’ on him.
_Anne_ Does Mr. Kyrle Daly go out boating at this hour?
_Danny_ It’s not for me to say, ma’am, but every night at twelve
o’clock I’m here wid my boat under the blue rock below, to put him
across the lake to Muckross Head. I beg your pardon, ma’am, but here’s
a paper ye dropped on the walk beyant--if it’s no vally I’d like to
light my pipe wid it. [_Gives it._
_Anne_ A paper I dropped! [_Goes to window--reads._
_Danny_ [_Aside._] Oh, Misther Corrigan, you’ll ruin masther will ye?
aisy now, and see how I’ll put the cross on ye.
_Anne_ A love-letter from some peasant girl to Kyrle Daly! Can this be
the love of which he spoke? have I deceived myself?
_Danny_ I must be off, ma’am; here comes the signal. [_Music._
_Anne_ The signal?
_Danny_ D’ye see yonder light upon Muckross Head? It is in a cottage
windy; that light goes in and out three times winkin’ that way, as
much as to say, “Are ye comin’?” Then if the light in that room there
[_points at house above_,] answers by a wink, it manes No! but if it
goes out entirely, his honor jumps from the parlor windy into the
garden behind, and we’re off. Look! [_Light in cottage disappears._]
That’s one. [_Light appears._] Now again. [_Light disappears._] That’s
two. [_Light appears._] What did I tell you? [_Light disappears._]
That’s three, and here it comes again. [_Light appears._] Wait now, and
ye’ll see the answer. [_Light disappears from window_, L.] That’s my
gentleman. [_Music change._] You see he’s goin’--good night, ma’am.
_Anne_ Stay, here’s money; do not tell Mr. Daly that I know of this.
_Danny_ Divil a word--long life t’ye. [_Goes up._
_Anne_ I was not deceived; he meant me to understand that he loved me!
Hark! I hear the sound of some one who leaped heavily on the garden
walk. [_Goes to house_ L.--_looking at back_.
_Enter_ HARDRESS, _wrapped in a boat cloak_, L. U. E.
_Danny_ [_Going down_, R. C.] All right, yer honor.
[HARDRESS _crosses at back, and down rock_, R. C.
_Anne_ [_Hiding_, L.] It is he, ’tis he.
[_Mistaking_ HARDRESS _for_ DALY--_closed in_.
SCENE II.--_The Gap of Dunloe._ [_1st grooves._] _Hour before sunrise._
_Enter_ CORRIGAN, R. 1 E.
_Corrig_ From the rock above I saw the boat leave Torc Cregan. It is
now crossing the lake to the cottage. Who is this girl? What is this
mysterious misthress of young Cregan?--that I’ll find out.
[MYLES _sings outside_, L.
“Oh! Charley Mount is a pretty place,
In the month of July----”
_Corrig_ Who’s that?--’Tis that poaching scoundrel--that horse stealer,
Myles na Coppaleen. Here he comes with a keg of illicit whisky, as
bould as Nebuckadezzar.
_Enter_ MYLES, _singing, with keg on his shoulder_, L.
Is that you, Myles?
_Myles_ No! it’s my brother.
_Corrig_ I know ye, my man.
_Myles_ Then why the divil did ye ax?
_Corrig_ You may as well answer me kindly--civility costs nothing.
_Myles_ [L. C.] Ow now! don’t it? Civility to a lawyer manes
six-and-eight-pence about.
_Corrig_ [R. C.] What’s that on your shoulder?
_Myles_ What’s that to you?
_Corrig_ I am a magistrate, and can oblige you to answer.
_Myles_ Well! it’s a boulster, belongin’ to my mother’s feather bed.
_Corrig_ Stuff’d with whisky!
_Myles_ Bedad! how would I know what it’s stuff’d wid? I’m not an
upholsterer.
_Corrig_ Come, Myles, I’m not so bad a fellow as ye may think.
_Myles_ To think of that now!
_Corrig_ I am not the mane creature you imagine!
_Myles_ Ain’t ye now, sir? You keep up appearances mighty well, indeed.
_Corrig_ No, Myles! I am not that blackguard I’ve been represented.
_Myles_ [_Sits on keg._] See that now--how people take away a man’s
character. You are another sort of blackguard entirely.
_Corrig_ You shall find me a gentleman--liberal, ready to protect you.
_Myles_ Long life t’ye sir.
_Corrig_ Myles, you have come down in the world lately; a year ago you
were a thriving horse-dealer, now you are a lazy, ragged fellow.
_Myles_ Ah, it’s the bad luck, sir, that’s in it.
_Corrig_ No, it’s the love of Eily O’Connor that’s in it--it’s the
pride of Garryowen that took your heart away, and made ye what ye
are--a smuggler and a poacher.
_Myles_ Thim’s hard words.
_Corrig_ But they are true. You live like a wild beast in some cave or
hole in the rocks above; by night your gun is heard shootin’ the otter
as they lie out on the stones, or you snare the salmon in your nets; on
a cloudy night your whisky-still is going--you see, I know your life.
_Myles_ Better than the priest, and devil a lie in it.
_Corrig_ Now, if I put ye in a snug farm--stock ye with pigs and
cattle, and rowl you up comfortable--d’ye think the Colleen Bawn
wouldn’t jump at ye?
_Myles_ Bedad, she’d make a lape, I b’lieve--and what would I do for
all this luck?
_Corrig_ Find out for me who it is that lives at the cottage on
Muckross Head.
_Myles_ That’s aisy--it’s Danny Mann--no less and his ould mother
Sheelah.
_Corrig_ Yes, Myles, but there’s another--a girl who is hid there.
_Myles_ Ah, now!
_Corrig_ She only goes out at night.
_Myles_ Like the owls.
_Corrig_ She’s the misthress of Hardress Cregan.
_Myles_ [_Seizing_ CORRIGAN.] Thurra mon dhiol, what’s that?
_Corrig_ Oh, lor! Myles--Myles--what’s the matter--are you mad?
_Myles_ No--that is--why--why did ye raise your hand at me in that way?
_Corrig_ I didn’t.
_Myles_ I thought ye did--I’m mighty quick at takin’ thim hints, bein’
on me keepin’ agin the gaugers--go on--I didn’t hurt ye.
_Corrig_ Not much.
_Myles_ You want to find out who this girl is?
_Corrig_ I’ll give £20 for the information--there’s ten on account.
[_Gives money._
_Myles_ Long life t’ye; that’s the first money I iver got from a
lawyer, and bad luck to me, but there’s a cure for the evil eye in thim
pieces.
_Corrig_ You will watch to-night?
_Myles_ In five minutes I’ll be inside the cottage itself.
_Corrig_ That’s the lad.
_Myles_ [_Aside._] I was goin’ there.
_Corrig_ And to-morrow you will step down to my office with the
particulars?
_Myles_ To-morrow you shall breakfast on them.
_Corrig_ Good night, entirely. [_Exit_ CORRIGAN, L.
_Myles_ I’ll give ye a cowstail to swally, and make ye think it’s a
chapter in St. Patrick, ye spalpeen? When he called Eily the misthress
of Hardress Cregan, I nearly sthretched him--begorra, I was full of
sudden death that minute! Oh, Eily! acushla agrah asthore machree! as
the stars watch over Innisfallen, and as the wathers go round it and
keep it, so I watch and keep round you, avourneen!
_Song._--MYLES.
Oh, Limerick is beautiful, as everybody knows,
The river Shannon’s full of fish, beside that city flows;
But it is not the river, nor the fish that preys upon my mind,
Nor with the town of Limerick have I any fault to find.
The girl I love is beautiful, she’s fairer than the dawn;
She lives in Garryowen, and she’s called the Colleen Bawn.
As the river, proud and bold, goes by that famed city,
So proud and cold, without a word, that Colleen goes by me!
Oh, hone! Oh, hone!
Oh, if I was the Emperor of Russia to command,
Or, Julius Cæsar, or the Lord Lieutenant of the land,
I’d give up all my wealth, my manes, I’d give up my army,
Both the horse, the fut, and the Royal Artillery;
I’d give the crown from off my head, the people on their knees,
I’d give my fleet of sailing ships upon the briny seas,
And a beggar I’d go to sleep, a happy man at dawn,
If by my side, fast for my bride, I’d the darlin’ Colleen Bawn.
Oh, hone! Oh, hone!
I must reach the cottage before the masther arrives; Father Tom is
there waitin’ for this keg o’ starlight--it’s my tithe; I call every
tenth keg “his riverince.” It’s worth money to see the way it does the
old man good, and brings the wather in his eyes, the only place I ever
see any about him--heaven bless him!
[_Sings._ _Exit_ MYLES, R.--_Music._
SCENE III.--_Interior of Eily’s Cottage on Muckross Head; fire
burning_, R. 3 E.; _table_, R. C.; _arm chair; two stools_, R. _of
table; stool_ L. _of table; basin, sugar spoon, two jugs, tobacco,
plate, knife, and lemon on table_.
FATHER TOM _discovered smoking in arm chair_, R. C.--EILY _in balcony,
watching over lake_.
_Father Tom_ [_Sings._] “Tobacco is an Injun weed.” And every weed
want’s wathering to make it come up; but tobacco bein’ an’ Injun weed
that is accustomed to a hot climate, water is entirely too cold for its
warrum nature--it’s whisky and water it wants. I wonder if Myles has
come; I’ll ask Eily. [_Calls._] Eily, alanna! Eily, a suilish machree!
_Eily_ [_Turning._] Is it me, Father Tom?
_Father T_ Has he come?
_Eily_ No; his boat is half a mile off yet.
_Father T_ Half a mile! I’ll choke before he’s here.
_Eily_ Do you mean Hardress?
_Father T_ No, dear! Myles na Coppaleen--cum spiritu Hiberneuse--which
manes in Irish, wid a keg of poteen.
_Enter_ MYLES, R. U. E., _down_ C.
_Myles_ Here I am, your riverince, never fear. I tould Sheelah to hurry
up with the materials, knowin’ ye be dhry and hasty.
_Enter_ SHEELAH, _with kettle of water_, R. U. E.
_Sheelah_ Here’s the hot water.
_Myles_ Lave it there till I brew Father Tom a pint of mother’s milk.
_Sheelah_ Well thin, ye’ll do your share of the work, an not a ha’porth
more.
_Myles_ Didn’t I bring the sperrits from two miles and more? and I
deserve to have pref’rence to make the punch for his riverince.
_Sheelah_ And didn’t I watch the kettle all night, not to let it off
the boil?--there now.
_Myles_ [_Quarreling with_ SHEELAH.] No, you didn’t, etc.
_Sheelah_ [_Quarreling._] Yes, I did, etc.
_Eily_ No, no; I’ll make it, and nobody else.
_Father T_ Aisy now, ye becauns, and whist; Myles shall put in the
whisky, Sheelah shall put in the hot water, and Eily, my Colleen,
shall put the sugar in the cruiskeen. A blessin’ on ye all three that
loves the ould man. [MYLES _takes off hat_--WOMEN _curtsey--they make
punch_.] See now, my children, there’s a moral in everthing, e’en in a
jug of punch. There’s the sperrit, which is the sowl and strength of
the man. [MYLES _pours spirit from keg_.] That’s the whisky. There’s
the sugar, which is the smile of woman; [EILY _puts sugar_.] without
that life is without taste or sweetness. Then there’s the lemon, [EILY
_puts lemon_.] which is love; a squeeze now and again does a boy no
harm; but not too much. And the hot water [SHEELAH _pours water_.]
which is adversity--as little as possible if ye plaze--that makes the
good things better still.
_Myles_ And it’s complate, ye see, for it’s a woman that gets into hot
wather all the while. [_Pours from jug to jug._
_Sheelah_ Myles, if I hadn’t the kettle, I’d bate ye.
_Myles_ Then, why didn’t ye let me make the punch? There’s a guinea for
your riverince that’s come t’ye--one in ten I got a while ago--it’s
your tithe--put a hole in it, and hang it on your watch chain, for it’s
a mighty great charm entirely.
[_They sit_, SHEELAH _near fire_, COLLEEN _on stool beside her_, FATHER
TOM _in chair_, MYLES _on stool_, L. _of table_.
_Father T_ Eily, look at that boy, and tell me, haven’t ye a dale to
answer for?
_Eily_ He isn’t as bad about me as he used to be; he’s getting over it.
_Myles_ Yes, darlin’, the storm has passed over, and I’ve got into
settled bad weather.
_Father T_ Maybe, afther all, ye’d have done better to have married
Myles there, than be the wife of a man that’s ashamed to own ye.
_Eily_ He isn’t--he’s proud of me. It’s only when I spake like the poor
people, and say or do anything wrong, that he’s hurt; but I’m gettin’
clane of the brogue, and learnin’ to do nothing--I’m to be changed
entirely.
_Myles_ Oh! if he’d lave me yer own self, and only take away wid him
his improvements. Oh! murder--Eily, aroon, why wasn’t ye twins, an’ I
could have one of ye, only nature couldn’t make two like ye--it would
be onreasonable to ax it.
_Eily_ Poor Myles, do you love me still so much?
_Myles_ Didn’t I lave the world to folley ye, and since then there’s
been neither night nor day in my life--I lay down on Glenna Point
above, where I see this cottage, and I lived on the sight of it. Oh!
Eily, if tears were pison to the grass there wouldn’t be a green blade
on Glenna Hill this day.
_Eily_ But you knew I was married, Myles.
_Myles_ Not thin, aroon--Father Tom found me that way, and sat beside,
and lifted up my soul. Then I confessed to him, and, sez he, “Myles,
go to Eily, she has something to say to you--say I sent you.” I came,
and ye tould me ye were Hardress Cregan’s wife, and that was a great
comfort entirely. Since I knew that [_Drinks--voice in cup._] I haven’t
been the blackguard I was.
_Father T_ See the beauty of the priest, my darlin’--_videte et
admirate_--see and admire it. It was at confession that Eily tould me
she loved Cregan, and what did I do?--sez I, “Where did you meet your
sweetheart?” “At Garryowen,” sez she. “Well,” says I; “that’s not the
place.” “Thrue, your riverince, it’s too public entirely,” sez she.
“Ye’ll mate him only in one place,” sez I; “and that’s the stile that’s
behind my chapel,” for, d’ye see, her mother’s grave was forenint the
spot, and there’s a sperrit round the place, [MYLES _drinks_,] that
kept her pure and strong. Myles, ye thafe, drink fair.
_Sheelah_ Come now, Eily, couldn’t ye cheer up his riverince wid the
tail of a song?
_Eily_ Hardress bid me not sing any ould Irish songs, he says the words
are vulgar.
_Sheelah_ Father Tom will give ye absolution.
_Father T_ Put your lips to that jug; there’s only the strippens left.
Drink! and while that thrue Irish liquor warms your heart, take this
wid it. May the brogue of ould Ireland niver forsake your tongue--may
her music niver lave yer voice--and may a true Irishwoman’s virtue
niver die in your heart!
_Myles_ Come, Eily, it’s my liquor--haven’t ye a word to say for it?
_Song_, EILY--“_Cruiskeen Lawn_.”
Let the farmer praise his grounds,
As the huntsman doth his hounds,
And the shepherd his fresh and dewy morn;
But I, more blest than they,
Spend each night and happy day.
With my smilin’ little Crusikeen Lawn, Lawn, Lawn.
_Chorus_ [_Repeat._] Gramachree, mavourneen, slanta gal avourneen,
Gramachree ma Cruiskeen Lawn, Lawn, Lawn,
With my smiling little Cruiskeen Lawn.
[_Chorused by_ MYLES, FATHER T., _and_ SHEELAH.
MYLES.
And when grim Death appears,
In long and happy years,
To tell me that my glass is run,
I’ll say, begone you slave,
For great Bacchus gave me lave
To have another Cruiskeen Lawn--Lawn--Lawn.
_Chorus.--Repeat._
Gramachree, &c., &c.
_Hard_ [_Without_, L. U. E.] Ho! Sheelah--Sheelah!
_Sheelah_ [_Rising._] Whist! it’s the master.
_Eily_ [_Frightened._] Hardress! oh, my! what will he say if he finds
us here--run, Myles--quick, Sheelah--clear away the things.
_Father T_ Hurry now, or we’ll get Eily in throuble.
[_Takes keg_--MYLES _takes jugs_--SHEELAH _kettle_.
_Hard_ Sheelah, I say!
[_Exeunt_ FATHER TOM _and_ MYLES, R. U. E., _quickly_.
_Sheelah_ Comin’, Sir, I’m puttin’ on my petticoat.
[_Exit_ SHEELAH, R. U. E., _quickly_.
_Enter_ HARDRESS _and_ DANNY, L. U. E. _opening_--DANNY _immediately
goes off_, R. U. E.
_Eily_ [C.] Oh, Hardress, asthore?
_Hard_ [L. C.] Don’t call me by those confounded Irish words--what’s
the matter? you’re trembling like a bird caught in a trap.
_Eily_ Am I, mavou--no I mean--is it tremblin’ I am, dear?
_Hard_ What a dreadful smell of tobacco there is here, and the fumes of
whisky punch, too; the place smells like a shebeen. Who has been here?
_Eily_ There was Father Tom, an’ Myles dhropped in.
_Hard_ Nice company for my wife--a vagabond.
_Eily_ Ah! who made him so but me, dear? Before I saw you, Hardress,
Myles coorted me, and I was kindly to the boy.
_Hard_ Damn it, Eily, why will you remind me that my wife was ever in
such a position?
_Eily_ I won’t see him again--if yer angry, dear, I’ll tell him to go
away, and he will, because the poor boy loves me.
_Hard_ Yes, better than I do you mean?
_Eily_ No, I don’t--oh! why do you spake so to your poor Eily!
_Hard_ Spake so! Can’t you say speak?
_Eily_ I’ll thry, aroon--I’m sthrivin’--’tis mighty hard, but what
wouldn’t I undert-tee-ta--undergo for your sa-se--for your seek.
_Hard_ Sake--sake!
_Eily_ Sake--seek--oh, it is to bother people entirely they mixed ’em
up! Why didn’t they make them all one way?
_Hard_ [_Aside._] It is impossible! How can I present her as my wife?
Oh! what an act of madness to tie myself to one so much beneath
me--beautiful--good as she is--
_Eily_ Hardress, you are pale--what has happened?
_Hard_ Nothing--that is, nothing but what you will rejoice at.
_Eily_ What d’ye mane?
_Hard_ What do I mane! Mean--mean!
_Eily_ I beg your pardon, dear.
_Hard_ Well; I mean that after to-morrow there will be no necessity
to hide our marriage, for I shall be a beggar, my mother will be an
outcast, and amidst all the shame, who will care what wife a Cregan
takes?
_Eily_ And d’ye think I’d like to see you dhragged down to my side--ye
don’t know me--see now--never call me wife again--don’t let on to
mortal that we’re married--I’ll go as a servant in your mother’s
house--I’ll work for the smile ye’ll give me in passing, and I’ll be
happy, if ye’ll only let me stand outside and hear your voice.
_Hard_ You’re a fool. I told you that I was bethrothed to the richest
heiress in Kerry; her fortune alone can save us from ruin. To-night my
mother discovered my visits here, and I told her who you were.
_Eily_ Oh! what did she say?
_Hard_ It broke her heart.
_Eily_ Hardress! is there no hope?
_Hard_ None. That is none--that--that I can name.
_Eily_ There is one--I see it.
_Hard_ There is. We were children when we were married, and I could
get no priest to join our hands but one, and he had been disgraced by
his bishop. He is dead. There was no witness to the ceremony but Danny
Mann--no proof but his word, and your certificate.
_Eily_ [_Takes paper from her breast._] This!
_Hard_ Eily! if you doubt my eternal love, keep that security; it
gives you the right to the shelter of my roof; but oh! if you would be
content with the shelter of my heart.
_Eily_ And will it save ye, Hardress? And will your mother forgive me?
_Hard_ She will bless you--she will take you to her breast.
_Eily_ But you--another will take you to her breast.
_Hard_ Oh, Eily, darling, d’ye think I could forget you,
machree--forget the sacrifice more than blood you give me?
_Eily_ Oh! when you talk that way to me, ye might take my life, and
heart, and all. Oh! Hardress, I love you--take the paper and tare it.
[HARDRESS _takes paper_.
_Enter_ MYLES C., _opening_.
_Myles_ No. I’ll be damned if he shall.
_Hard_ Scoundrel! you have been listening?
_Myles_ To every word. I saw Danny, wid his ear agin that dure, so as
there was only one kay-hole, I adopted the windy. Eily, aroon, Mr.
Cregan will giv’ ye back that paper; you can’t tare up an oath; will ye
help him then to cheat this other girl, and to make her his mistress,
for that’s what she’ll be if ye are his wife. An’ after all, what is
there agin’ the crature? Only the money she’s got. Will you stop lovin’
him when his love belongs to another? No! I know it by myself; but if
ye jine their hands together your love will be an adultry.
_Eily_ Oh, no!
_Hard_ Vagabond! outcast! jail bird! dare you prate of honor to me?
_Myles_ [C.] I am an outlaw, Mr. Cregan--a felon, may be--but if you do
this thing to that poor girl that loves you so much--had I my neck in
the rope--or my fut on the deck of a convict ship--I’d turn round and
say to ye, “Hardress Cregan, I make ye a present of the contimpt of a
rogue.” [_Snaps fingers._
_Music till end Act.--Enter_ FATHER TOM, SHEELAH _and_ DANNY, R. U.
E.--HARDRESS _throws down paper--goes to table--takes hat_.
_Hard_ Be it so, Eily, farewell! until my house is clear of these
vermin--[DANNY _appears at back_]--you will see me no more.
[_Exit_ HARDRESS, L. C., _followed by_ DANNY.
_Eily_ Hardress--Hardress! [_Going up._] Don’t leave me, Hardress!
_Father T_ [_Intercepts her._] Stop, Eily! [DANNY _returns and listens_.
_Eily_ He’s gone--he’s gone!
_Father T_ Give me that paper, Myles. [MYLES _picks it up--gives it_.]
Kneel down there, Eily, before me--put that paper in your breast.
_Eily_ [_Kneeling._] Oh, what will I do--what will I do?
_Father T_ Put your hand upon it now.
_Eily_ Oh, my heart--my heart!
_Father T_ Be thee hush, and spake after me--by my mother that’s in
heaven.
_Eily_ By my mother that’s in heaven.
_Father T_ By the light and the word.
_Eily_ By the light and the word.
_Father T_ Sleepin’ or wakin’.
_Eily_ Sleepin’ or wakin’.
_Father T_ This proof of my truth.
_Eily_ This proof of my truth.
_Father T_ Shall never again quit my breast.
_Eily_ Shall never again quit my breast.
EILY _utters a cry and falls--Tableau_.
ACT II.
SCENE I.--[_1st Grooves._]--_Gap of Dunloe; same as 2d Scene, Act
I.--Music._
_Enter_ HARDRESS _and_ DANNY, L. 1 E.
_Hard_ [R.] Oh, what a giddy fool I’ve been! What would I give to
recall this fatal act which bars my fortune?
_Danny_ [L.] There’s something throublin’ yez, Masther Hardress. Can’t
Danny do something to aise ye? Spake the word, and I’ll die for ye.
_Hard_ Danny, I _am_ troubled. I was a fool when I refused to listen to
you at the chapel of Castle Island.
_Danny_ When I warned ye to have no call to Eily O’Connor?
_Hard_ I was mad to marry her.
_Danny_ I knew she was no wife for you. A poor thing widout any
manners, or money, or book larnin’, or a ha’porth o’ fortin’. Oh,
worra! I told ye that, but ye bate me off, and here now is the way of
it.
_Hard_ Well, it’s done, and can’t be undone.
_Danny_ Bedad, I dun know that. Wouldn’t she untie the knot
herself--couldn’t ye coax her?
_Hard_ No.
_Danny_ Is that her love for you? You that give up the divil an’
all for her. What’s _her_ ruin to yours? Ruin--goredoutha--ruin is
it? Don’t I pluck a shamrock and wear it a day for the glory of St.
Patrick, and then throw it away when it’s gone by my likin’s. What is
_she_ to be ruined by a gentleman? Whoo! Mighty good for the likes o’
her.
_Hard_ She would have yielded, but--
_Danny_ Asy now, an’ I’ll tell ye. Pay her passage out to Quaybeck and
put her aboord a three-master, widout sayin’ a word. Lave it to me.
Danny will clear the road foreninst ye.
_Hard_ Fool, if she still possesses that certificate--the proof of my
first marriage--how can I dare to wed another? Commit bigamy--disgrace
my wife--bastardize my children?
_Danny_ Den by the powers, I’d do by Eily as wid the glove there on yer
hand; make it come off as it came on--an’ if it fits too tight, take
the knife to it.
_Hard_ [_Turning to him._] What do you mean?
_Danny_ Only gi’ me the word, an’ I’ll engage that the Colleen Bawn
will never trouble ye any more; don’t ax me any questions at all.
Only--if you’re agreeable, take off that glove from yer hand an’ give
it to me for a token--that’s enough.
_Hard_ [_Throws off cloak; seizes him; throws him down._] Villain! Dare
you utter a word or meditate a thought of violence towards that girl--
_Danny_ Oh, murder! may I never die in sin, if--
_Hard_ Begone! away, at once, and quit my sight. I have chosen my doom!
I must learn to endure it--but blood!--and hers! Shall I make cold and
still that heart that beats alone for me?--quench those eyes that look
so tenderly in mine? Monster! am I so vile that you dare to whisper
such a thought?
_Danny_ Oh, masther! divil burn me if I meant any harm.
_Hard_ Mark me well, now. Respect my wife as you would the queen of the
land--whisper a word such as those you uttered to me, and it will be
your last. I warn ye--remember and obey.
[_Exit_ HARDRESS, R.
_Danny_ [_Rises--picks up cloak._] Oh, the darlin’ crature! would I
harrum a hair of her blessed head?--no! Not unless you gave me that
glove, and den I’d jump into the bottomless pit for ye.
[_Exit_ DANNY, R. _Music--change._