Father T Myles, you’re desavin’ me.
Myles Is it afther desavin’ yer riverence I’d be?
Father T I see the lie in yer mouth. Who tould ye it was Danny Mann ye killed?
Myles You said so a while ago.
Father T Who tould ye it was Danny Mann?
Myles I’m comin’ to it. While I was at Murty’s, yer riverince, as I was a-tellin’ you—Dan Dayley was there—he had just kim’d in. “Good morrow,—good day”—ses he. “Good morrow, good Dan, ses I,”—jest that ways entirely—“it’s an opening to the heart to see you.” Well, yer riverence, as I ware sayin’,—“long life an’ good wife to ye, Masther Dan,” ses I. “Thank ye, ses he, and the likes to ye, anyway.” The moment I speck them words, Dan got heart, an’ up an’ tould Murty about his love for Murty’s darter—the Colleen Rue. The moment he heard that, he puts elbows in himself, an’ stood lookin’ at him out on the flure. “You flog Europe, for boldness,” ses he—“get out of my sight,” ses he,—“this moment,” ses he,—“or I’ll give yer a kick that will rise you from poverty to the highest pitch of affluence,” ses he—“away out ’o that, you notorious delinquent; single your freedom, and double your distance,” ses he. Well, Dan was forced to cut an’ run. Poor boy! I was sorry for his trouble; there isn’t a better son nor brother this moment goin’ the road than what he is—said—said—there was’nt better, an’, an’—oh! Father Tom, don’t ax me; I’ve got an oath on my lips. [Music.] Don’t be hard on a poor boy.
Father T I lift the oath from ye. Tell me, avick, oh! tell me. Did ye search for the poor thing—the darlin’ soft-eyed Colleen? Oh, Myles! could ye lave her to lie in the cowld lake all alone?
Enter Eily from door R. flat.
Myles No, I couldn’t.