Part 2
_Mrs. Dig._ The streets are so narrow, the houses so dirty, and the people so ridiculous! then the women, Count! ha, ha, ha!--I can’t help laughing when I think of them. Well, I am convinced that the women of this here country who have never travelled, have nothing of that--a--a--non-chalance, and that jenny-see-quee that we have in London.
_O’Dogh._ O no, brother! the women have nothing of that jenny-see-quee, that she has brought over with her from London.
_Mrs. Dig._ But, Mushroom--I don’t know if what I am going to tell you be conceit or real; but, upon my honour, when I first came from England--you must know, brother, I came over in the picket.
_O’Dogh._ O yes, brother, she came over in the picket.
_Mrs. Dig._ Yes, sir, I came over in the picket, and we had a great orage--I don’t believe, Mr. Diggerty, you know what an orage is.
_O’Dogh._ Indeed you may take your oath I don’t, my dear.
_Mrs. Dig._ That is, sir, because you have not been in foreign parts--then I will tell you what an orage is--sir, an orage is a storum.
_O’Dogh._ Madam, I thank you for your intelligence--indeed you are very learned and very obliging.
_Mrs. Dig._ And so, as I was saying, Count, we had a great storum, and the picket--I shall never forget it--the picket landed us about twenty miles from Dublin--and so, do you know, I say, Mushroom, that I fancied, being just come from England, that the very dogs here when they barked, had the brogue, ha, ha, ha!
_Omnes._ Ha, ha, ha!
_Mush._ Why then, by all that’s gothic, madam, I have thought so a thousand times.
_Mrs. Dig._ You have!
_Mush._ I have, upon honour.
_Mrs. Dig._ Have you ever observed it, brother? Mr. Diggerty, what do you think? Hav’n’t the dogs of this here country the brogue?
_O’Dogh._ Indeed and that they have, my dear, and the cows too, and the sheep, and the bullocks, and that as strong as ever your own mother had it, who was an O’Gallagher.
_Mrs. Dig._ Oh!
_O’Dogh._ Not two of whose ancestors could ever speak three words of English to be understood.
_Mrs. Dig._ You are a strange rude man, Mr. Diggerty, to tell me of my mother’s family--you know I always despised my mother’s family--I hate the very name of Gallagher, and all the old Irish whatever.
_Coun._ The present company excepted, sister--your husband, you know--
_Mrs. Dig._ O, I never think of him.
_Coun._ Ha, that’s polite indeed.
_O’Dogh._ O no, she never thinks of me.
_Coun._ Well, but sister, you have given us no account of the coronation, no doubt you were there.
_Mrs. Dig._ There! O Moundew!--What a quistion! Why I was in every part of it--ax Mushroom else.
_Mush._ Every where, every where--she was every where, and with every body.
_O’Dogh._ Well, well--then I suppose it was very fine; but after all now, was it as fine as our riding the fringes here, or the lord lieutenant going to the parliament house.
_Mrs. Dig._ He, he, he! O shocking! don’t neem them together--now that is so Irish--but, brother, what would have afforded you the highest entertainment, was the city feast. O that there was imminse.
_O’Dogh._ O yes, that there was imminse, brother, and much finer than this here.
_Coun._ Then you were at the city feast too, sister?
_Mrs. Dig._ O dear, yes! the court never stirred without me.
_O’Dogh._ No, indeed, the court never stirred without her.
_Mrs. Dig._ And the lord mayor made a point of having me there: so I went with her Grace, a friend of mine, and a party of the court, as one of the houshold--but the minute I went in every eye was upon me: Lord, it was veestly pleasant to see how the she grocers, the she mercers, the she dyers, the she hosiers, and the she taylors did stare at me--I was very brilliant that’s certain--rather more so than I was at the wedding.
_O’Dogh._ O indeed I don’t doubt but you were a sight.
_Mrs. Dig._ O pray, Mr. Diggerty, be quiet, and don’t interrupt me.--Well, but, brother, as I was saying, it was imminsely entertaining to hear the awkward city creatures whisper and give their vardee upon me, in their city manner--Lord, is this the handsome Irishwoman?--the famous Irish toast? the celebrated Mrs. Diggerty--ha!--I don’t think she is so handsome, says one--hum!--well enough, says another, only I don’t like her nose--pray, doesn’t she squint? says a third--O yes, she certainly squints, says a fourth--and she is a little crooked--but she is genteel--O yes, yes, the city creatures all allowed I was genteel.
_O’Dogh._ O yes, yes, to be sure they all allowed she was genteel.
_Mrs. Dig._ But, brother--O Lud! I had like to have forgot--do you know that the Count is one of the prettiest poets in England, aye, or in Ireland either.
_Mush._ O heavens! madam!
_Mrs. Dig._ He is, by my honour.
_Coun._ I do not doubt the gentleman’s talents in the least, sister.
_Mush._ Sir, you are very polite, the lady is pleas’d to rally, that’s all, for my muse is but a smatterer--a slattern--a meer slip-shod lady.
_Mrs. Dig._ Do not mind him, brother, what I say is true. He is a mighty pretty poet, and to convince you that he is, I will shew you some verses that he indited upon me, as I was dancing at court--(_Pulls them out_).--Here they are, brother: Count, will you be so obliging as to read them to my brother?
_Mush._ Madam, as the sublime bard politely sings, the nod of beauty sways both gods and men, and I obey. Gentlemen, the title will at once let you into the whole of what you are to expect in this little production. “An extempore on the famous Mrs. O’Diggerty’s dancing at court.”--Now attend--
“When beauteous Diggerty leads up the dance “In fair Britannia’s court, “Then ev’ry heart is in a prance, “And longs for Cupid’s sport. “Beaux ogle, and pant and gaze, “Belles envy and sneer, yet praise, “As Venus herself were there; “And prudes agree, it must be she, “It must be she--or Diggerty, “It must be she--or Diggerty, “Or Diggerty, the fair.” [_Bows very low to Mrs._ Diggerty. That’s all, gentlemen, that’s all--only a jeu d’esprit, as I told you; a slight effort of a muse, bound in the silken chains of beauty and delight. [_He bows, she curtsies._
_Coun._ Conceited coxcomb! (_Aside._)
_Mush._ And now, madam, I have a favour to beg of you.
_Mrs. Dig._ O command it--what is it?
_Mush._ Why, madam, as the celebrated doctor Thomas Augustus Arne has honoured this hasty offspring with an alliance of his harmonious muse, and as your ladyship has frequently heretofore enlivened it with your vocal glee, shall we beg that you will once more animate these verbal images with a touch of your Promethean pipe.
_Mrs. Dig._ O dear, Count, you are veestly panegyrical.
_Coun._ Aye, aye, come, sister, as you have the tune oblige us with it.
_Mrs. Dig._ I will try, brother, what I can do--but, by my honour, I have a great big cold--hem, hem!--
_Mush._ The worse your voice, madam, the more your taste will shine.
_Mrs. Dig._ Nay, Count, voice or no voice I will make an effort--Sol-la-mi-fa-sol, &c.--Upon my honour I have no more voice than a kitling.
S O N G.
[_During the song Mushroom beats time conceitedly, but so as not to interrupt her, or interfere with her acting it._]
_Mush._ Bravo! bravissimo! carissimo! novellissimo! transcendissimo! and every superlativissimo in the sublime region of excellentissimo!
_O’Dogh._ Come, Count, now if you please we will go down, and sign the leases, and dispatch the attornies.
_Mush._ With all my heart. [_Exit_ O’Dogh.
_Mrs. Dig._ You dine here, Count.
_Mush._ Do I breathe! do I exist! I will but just step down, sign the leases, and return on the wings of inclination--ma chere belle sans, adieu. [_Exit._
_Mrs. Dig._ Au revoir--well, he is a most humourous creature, and mighty witty: don’t you think so, brother?
_Coun._ Very witty, indeed, and I suppose understands a lady’s toilet--
_Mrs. Dig._ The best of any man in the world, the most handy creature about a woman--and such teest--but, brother, you must sup with us to-night--I have a few friends--a private peerty this evening: Lady Kinnegad, Lady Pam, old Lady Bab Frightful, Mrs. Gazette, Mr. Mushroom, Pat Fitzmungrel, Major Gamble, Mrs. Cardmark, and half a score more--quite a private peerty--you must be with us, brother--we are to have a little gambling and dancing, and are to be mighty jolly--I shall expect you--yours, yours--I must go finish my toilet. [_Exit._
_Coun._ What a strange turn this woman’s mind has taken--she is far gone I see, and must be pinched to the quick--and shall this very night. [_Exit._
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ACT II.
_Enter Mr. and Mrs._ O’Dogherty.
_O’Dogh._ Well, but, my dear, why will you be in such a passion? Why will you not hearken to reason?
_Mrs. Dig._ Mr. Diggerty, I will hear no reason; there can be no reason against what I say--you are the strangest man--not be a lord--sir, I insist upon it--there’s a necessity for a peerage.
_O’Dogh._ O! then only shew me the necessity, and all my objections will vanish.
_Mrs. Dig._ Why, sir, I am affronted for want of a title: a parcel of upstarts, with their crownets upon their coaches, their chairs, their spoons, their handkerchiefs--nay, on the very knockers of their doors--creatures that were below me but t’other day, are now truly my superiors, and have the precedency, and are set above me at table.
_O’Dogh._ Set above you at table?
_Mrs. Dig._ Yes, sir, set above me at table wherever I go.
_O’Dogh._ Upon my honour then that’s a great shame. Well, well, my dear--come, come, my dear, don’t be in such a fluster.
_Mrs. Dig._ Fluster! why sir, I tell you I am ready to expire when ever I go into the great world.
_O’Dogh._ At what, my dear?
_Mrs. Dig._ At what--Egh! how can you ax such an ignorant quistion? Can there be any thing more provoking to a woman of my teest and spirit, than to hear the titles of a parcel of upstart ugly creatures bawled in one’s ears upon every occasion--my Lady Kinnegad’s coach there--my Lady Kilgobbin’s chair there--my Lady Castleknock’s servants there--my Lady Tanderagee’s chariot there. And after all these titles only consider how my vile neem sounds--(_cries_) Mrs. Diggerty’s servants there--Mrs. Diggerty’s chair there--Mrs. Diggerty’s coach there--it is so mean and beggarly I cannot bear it--the very thought of it makes me ready to burst my stays, and almost throws me into my hysterics. (_throws herself into a couch._)
_O’Dogh._ Nay, my dear, don’t be working yourself up to your fits, your hysterics, and your tantrums now.
_Mrs. Dig._ My life is miserable (_rises_). You cross me in every thing, you are always finding fault with my routs, and my drums, and my fancy ball--t’other night you would not make up a dress for it, nor appear at it--O fie, fie, fie--but you are true Irish to the very bone of you.
_O’Dogh._ Indeed I am, and to the marrow within the bone too; and what is more, I hope I shall never be otherwise.
_Mrs. Dig._ Ridiculous weakness! Pray, sir, do not you think the English love their country as well as the Irish do theirs?
_O’Dogh._ O indeed I believe they do, and a great deal better; though we have a great many among us that call themselves patriots and champions, who, at the same time, would not care if poor old Ireland was squeezed as you squeeze an orange--provided they had but their share of the juice.
_Mrs. Dig._ Pooh, pooh! nobody minds what you say--you are always abusing every body in power--well, sir, you see the English are improving in teest every day, and have their burlettas and their operas, their Cornelys, their Almacks, their macaronies--
_O’Dogh._ O my dear, I tell you again and again, that the English can never be precedent to us. They, by their genius and constitution, must always run mad about something or other, either about burlettas, pantomimes, a man in a bottle, a Cock-lane ghost, or something of equal importance. But, my dear, they can afford to run mad after such nonsense; why they owe more money than we are worth; stay ’till we are as rich as they are, and then we may be allowed to run mad after absurdities as well as they.
_Mrs. Dig._ Mighty well, sir, mighty well! Oh mighty well.
_O’Dogh._ Heyday, what’s the matter now?
_Mrs. Dig._ But I see your design--you have a mind to break my heart--(_sobs and cries_)--yes, you argue and contradict me for no other end--you do every thing to fret and vex me.
_O’Dogh._ Pray explain, my dear? What is it you mean?
_Mrs. Dig._ Why, sir, ever since I returned to this odious country I have been requesting and begging, and praying, that you would send to London only for the set of long-tailed horses, that I told you I admired so--but no, I cannot prevail, though you know my Lady Kilgobbin, my Lady Balruddery, my Lady Castleknock, and, in short, every lady of figure all run upon long tails--nobody but doctors, apothecaries, lawyers, cits, and country squires drive with short tails now--for my part, you know I detest a short tail.
_O’Dogh._ Well, my dear, I have sent for your brother to town, on purpose to settle all these points between us, and if he thinks it proper that you should have long tails, you may have them as long as my Lady Kilgobbin’s, my Lady Balruddery’s tails, or any tails in the universe; and as to the title, if it can be had, why we will submit that to him likewise.
_Mrs. Dig._ I know it can be had--and so let me have no more trouble about it, for a title I will have--I must be a lady as well as other people--I can’t bear being a plain Mrs. Diggerty any longer. (_cries._)
_O’Dogh._ Well, well, my dear, we will try what we can do--you must be a lady! yes, yes, you shall be a lady; but by the blood of the O’Doghertys, it shall be a broken-back’d lady. A hump shall be your patent, my dear. (_aside._) [_Exit._
_Mrs. Dig._ An obstinate man! not accept of a title--in short, there is no living without it. Who’s there?
_Enter_ John.
_John._ Madam!
_Mrs. Dig._ Nobody come yet?
_John._ No, madam.
_Mrs. Dig._ What’s o’clock?
_John._ A quarter past seven, madam.
_Mrs. Dig._ Are the candles lit and the cards ready?
_John._ They have been ready this half hour, madam.
_Mrs. Dig._ Shew the company into this room.
_John._ Yes, madam.
[_A loud knocking, three servants without._]
_Will._ Lady Kinnegad.
_James._ Lady Kinnegad.
_John._ Lady Kinnegad.
_Enter_ John, _shewing in_ Lady Kinnegad.
_John._ Lady Kinnegad, madam. [_Exit._
_L. Kin._ My dear Diggy--what, all alone--nobody come?
_Mrs. Dig._ Not a mortal, I have been fretting this hour at being alone, and had nothing to divert me but a quarrel with my husband.
_L. Kin._ The old fogrum! what, he won’t open his purse strings, I suppose--but you should, make him, for he is as rich as a Jew.
_Mrs. Dig._ Aye, but he is as close-fisted as an old judge--Lord, he has no notion of any thing in life, but reading musty books, draining bogs, planting trees, establishing manufactories, setting the common people to work, and saving money.
_L. Kin._ Ha, ha, ha! the monster!
[_A loud knocking._]
_Will._ Major Gamble.
_James._ Major Gamble
_John._ Major Gamble.
_Enter_ John _and Major_ Gamble.
_John._ Major Gamble, madam. [_Exit._
_Mrs. Dig._ Major, how is your gout to-day?
_Major._ I don’t know how the devil it is, not I--hobbling up your stairs has made me sweat--Lady Kinnegad, I kiss your hands; I ask your pardon, but I must sit down--I cannot stand--I got cold last night, and I feel it to-day--what, is there nobody come yet but us--nothing going forward.
[_Loud knocking._]
_Will._ Lady Bab Frightful.
_James._ Lady Bab Frightful.
_John._ Lady Bab Frightful.
_L. Kin._ Here she comes, as Mushroom says, Nature’s contradiction--youth and age, frost and fire, winter and summer, an old body and a young mind.
_Enter_ John _and Lady_ Bab Frightful.
_John._ Lady Bab Frightful, madam. [_Exit._
_Mrs. Dig._ My dear Lady Bab!
_L. Bab._ My dear Diggy--Lady Kinnegad, I kiss your hands--O, major--why you had like to have ruined us all last night--the bank was just broke--well, I am a perfect rake--I think I was one of the last this morning. I danced till five.
_L. Kin._ As the old saying is, Lady Bab--you can never do it younger--Live while we live, that’s the rule of happiness, you have good spirits, a good jointure, and nobody to controul you--you amiable creature.
_L. Bab._ Yes, I thank my stars, I never want spirits, tol, lol, lol, (_sings_)--I could dance till morning.
[_Loud knocking._]
_Will._ Mrs. Jolly.
_James._ Mrs. Jolly.
_John._ Mrs. Jolly.
_Enter_ John _and Mrs._ Jolly.
_John._ Mrs. Jolly, madam. [_Gives a card to Mrs._ Dig. _and exit_.
_Mrs. Jolly._ So, good folks.
_Mrs. Dig._ Madam, your most obedient.
_Mrs. Jolly._ What, all idle!--no loo--no brag--no hazard--nor no dancing begun yet, and Lady Bab here--but where’s Mushroom--I’ve such a story for him.--Where’s the Count, Diggerty?
_Enter_ John _with a note and exit_.
_Mrs. Dig._ O he will be here, never fear, madam--O this is a card from Gazette. (_reads_) “Dear Dig, I cannot be with you at seven; but before you have play’d two hands, expect me--three short visits at the Green, one in Merrion-street, two in the Mall, in Britain-street, three words at the castle with his excellency, and then I am yours for the night, and whilst I am----Gazette.”
_L. Kin._ Well said, Gazette!--she will spread more scandal in these short visits than truth can remove in a twelvemonth.
[_Loud knocking._]
_Will._ Mr. Fitzmungrel.
_James._ Mr. Fitzmungrel.
_John._ Mr. Fitzmungrel.
_L. Kin._ O, here’s Fitzmungrel! drunk, I suppose, according to custom.
_L. Bab._ And brutal, according to nature; yes, yes, he’s drunk I see. I will be gone, for I know he will be rude.
_L. Kin._ No, no, stay--let us all share in his abuse, pray.
_Enter_ John.
_John._ Mr. Fitzmungrel, madam.
_Enter_ Fitzmungrel, _drunk and singing_.
_Fitz._ My dear, Mrs. O’Dogherty--but I know you do not love to be called O’Dogherty, and therefore I will call you by your English name, Mrs. Diggerty--my dear Diggerty, I have not been in bed since I saw you.
_Mrs. Dig._ Why where have you been, Fitz?
_Fitz._ At the Curragh, my dear, with Pat Wildfire, Sir Anthony All-Night, Sir Toby Ruin, Dick Bashaw, and half a score more, and a fine chase we had--haux, haux, my honies--over, over, haux--but I was resolved to be with you, my little Diggerty, because I promised, so I smoaked it away to town--drove myself in my own Phaeton, and was over-turned just as I came to dirty Dublin.
_Mrs. Dig._ Why you are all dirty?
_Fitz._ Yes, I had a fine set down in the dirtiest spot of the whole road.
_Mrs. Dig._ I hope you are not hurt?
_Fitz._ Not I, my dear--haux--haux--whoop--no, no, my dear Diggerty, I am like a cat--I always light upon my legs--haux--haux--whoop--ha, my dear angelic cousin, Lady Bab Frightful--by Heavens, you are a beautiful creature, and look like the picture of good luck--well, shall we have another bank to-night?--here, take this note into your bank (_gives a note_) I will go take a nap in the next room in my old chair, and when you have made it five hundred, wake me, my little babby--do you hear--
_L. Bab._ I will, I will--that’s a good man, go, and take a nap.
_Fitz._ My dear cousin, thou’rt the beauty of our family.
_L. Bab._ Well, well--go sleep--go sleep.
_Fitz._ The beauty of our family, Bab--another Venus--as handsome as Medusa, and you are besides a good-natured, old, young, middle-aged, giggling girl of three-score--so I’ll go take my nap--haux--haux--tally ho--whoop-- [_Exit._
_Mrs. Dig._ He is horrid drunk.
_L. Kin._ And what is worse, he is a greater brute sober than drunk.
[_Loud knocking._]
_Will._ Mrs. Gazette.
_James._ Mrs. Gazette.
_John._ Mrs. Gazette.
_L. Kin._ Here she comes, that knows every body’s business but her own, ha, ha, ha!
_Major._ I will swear she is in as many houses every day as Faulkner’s Journal.
_Enter_ John _and Mrs._ Gazette.
_John._ Mrs. Gazette, madam. [_Exit._
_Mrs. Gaz._ My dear Diggerty, you got my billet--I came to you as soon as possible--but where’s Mushroom--I do not see him.
_Mrs. Dig._ He will be here, Madam.
_Mrs. Gaz._ My dear Jolly, why you look in high bloom to-night--Major, how’s your gout--Lady Kinnegad, your most devoted--Oh, but Diggerty, I have a piece of news--they say your husband’s to have a peerage.
_Omnes._ Ha, ha, ha!
_Mrs. Dig._ It is very true, madam, very true--we are to be entitled.
_Mrs. Gaz._ Why not? I am sure there are those, that have not half your fortune, who have got peerages. And pray, my dear, what is your title to be--you must consult me upon it.
_Mrs. Dig._ Why, I have thought of several, but know not which to pitch upon--I am distracted about it, I have thought of nothing else this week--I wish you would all advise me--it must be something new, elegant, and uncommon--and teesty--yes, I must have it teesty--see, here is the list of titles--if you will all step into the drawing-room, we will determine upon one, and then sit down to our peerties--come, alons--sans ceremonie--I’ll shew you the way--come, major-- [_Exeunt, all but the_ Major.
_Major._ Aye, aye, pack along--I’ll hobble after you--get the hazard ready--but I must sit by the fire--I am cursed lame--’sblood, I have trod upon some damn’d shell or pebble--O damn it--curse the shell--but Lady Bab’s bank will be worth touching. [_Exit._
_Enter_ O’Dogherty _and_ Katty Farrel.
_O’Dogh._ They are all gone to their nightly devotions--well, and what did she say when you gave her the money?
_Katty._ O sir, she was overjoy’d, and so thankful--but she will lose it all again to that Lady Kinnegad.
_O’Dogh._ Not to-night, Katty; her brother was in the room before them to prevent her playing; he is resolved to settle all affairs with her this very night. But what makes this Mushroom stay so long? Sure he will come.
_Katty._ O never fear, sir--you never saw a man so eager, and so full of expectation.
_O’Dogh._ And so you have really dressed him up in your lady’s cloaths.
_Katty._ I have, sir, indeed--and he is ten times fonder of himself (if possible) as a woman, I think, than he was as a man.
_O’Dogh._ Ogh I will engage I will cure him of his passion for himself, and for all Irish women, as long as he lives.
_Katty._ Here comes my mistress, and her brother with her, sir.
_O’Dogh._ Come, come, quick; let us get out of their way, for he is resolved to startle the lady, and waken her, if possible. Let us leave them to themselves, for I reckon they will have a sharp brush. [_Exeunt._
_Enter Mrs._ Diggerty _and_ Hamilton.
_Coun._ Madam, madam, you shall hear me.
_Mrs. Dig._ Was there ever so rude, so abrupt a behaviour--to force me from my company thus.
_Coun._ ’Tis what your insolent disease demands; the suddenness and abruptness of the shock is the chief ingredient in the remedy that must cure you.
_Mrs. Dig._ What do you mean, sir?