Dick´s Standard Plays
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| Partner: | buecher.de |
| Hersteller: | Forgotten Books (Amherst, J. H.) |
| Stand: | 2015-08-04 03:50:33 |
Produktbeschreibung
Excerpt from Dick´s Standard Plays: Ireland as It Is Scene. - Interior of a neat country farm-house-large latticed window, R. C. - door, L. C., wide open, offering a view of a well furnished farmyard. Florence at needlework, R i Nell O´Carolan L., writing in a ledger, and his wife Honor, knitting - two girls in the back-ground at needle work. Irish air "The Harp that Once," &c. Neil. (Closing the ledger.) Faith, and there´s but little to cheer my heart when I sum up my profit and loss - rather let me say when I enter my losses - for profit there has been none this many and many a day; plenty would be the roads I can take for myself, but I´m distracted intirely, when I think of the wife and childer. (Rises, comes down.) Honor. (Rising also.) Don´t fret yourself, Neil, sure now it´s because the farm´s running out, we must cut short our enjoyment, and endeavour to meet our difficulties by denying ourselves some few comforts; oh, darling, it´s a pity you ever took the farm again at such a dreadfully advanced rent. Neil. Is it yourself can tell me how I ought to have it? my father, grandfather, nay great-grand father held this little estate. Honor. (In tears, and leaning on his shoulder.) Och! I know - I understand your feelings, but think for a moment, only for a moment, eight times, eight times the rent. Neil. Sure, it´s true every word you say, but I was in hopes that my Lord Squander, the now proprietor of the estate, would visit it the time which was appointed. Honor. It´s deceivin´ yourself yon are, for few lords think of their tinants, except when quarter-day comes round; then, and only then, their letters arrive to distrain and ruin them, if they can´t raise their rents - rarely is a week granted, the middleman proceeds in his unpitying course, while the rale owner is ignorant of his supporters´ sufferings. Neil. Och, but that´s true, Honor; his tinants after all are his supporters, and the best of ´em are often turned pennyless adrift to make room for some sly, sneaking, blarneying fellow, who in the end takes in middleman and landlord too. Well, if hard labour, if working day and night, avert this calamity, Neil O´Carolan shall not be found wanting, where work´s to be done, or money to be earnt. Flo. (Rising R. C.) Brother dear, if you could bring the mind of ye to speak to Mr. Septimus Stone the steward. Neil, (C.) Faith, darling, but I have, and his answer was - you outbid my friend for this farm, and if you´re not punctual in the payment of your rent, look to it, unless indeed you choose to exert your influence with your sister in the way I´ve more than once hinted at. Flo. The odious man! I´d sooner work day and night in the open air, than marry such a black hearted spalpeen. Honor, (L. C.) Nobody´s asking yon, darling; I´d sooner see yon barefoot, nay, more, - I´d rather shelter with my children under the hedge on the roadside, exposed to all the miseries of cold and hunger, than cause the blood of the O´Carolans to be mingled with that of an upstart wretch, who sprang from beggary and raised his fortunes by cruelty and savage extortions on the unhappy peasantry of my dear, dear, native Ireland. Flo. Oeh, hone, I should like to hear of Connor O´Flaherty, for his good nature always dispels the clouds of misfortune. Connor. (Singing without, L. U. E.) "St. Patrick was a gintleman, and came of dacent people," &c, &c. (Enter C. D., goes to Florence.) Ah, Florence, my darling, how fares it? hey day - why Neil, what ails ye all? the blue divils seem perched on the whole family. &l
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