Teag. Why, he asked me, How did my wife go to stool? to which I answered, the same way that other women go to a chair: no, said he, that’s not what I mean, how does she purge? Arra, Mr. Doctor, said I, all the fire in Purgatory wont purge her clean; for she has both a cold and stinking breath. Sir, said he, that is not what I ask you, whether does she shit thick or thin? Arra, Mr. Doctor, said I, it is sometimes so thick and hard that you may take it in your hand, and eat it like a piece of cheese or pudding, and at other times you may drink it, or sup it with a spoon. At this he flew in a most terrible rage, and kicked me down stairs, and would give me nothing to her, but called me a dirty scoundrel for speaking of shit before ladies.
Tom. And was you sorry when your wife died?
Teag. Arra, dear shoy, if any body had beat me, I was fit to cry myself.
Tom. And in what good order did you bury your wife when she died?
Teag. O my dear shoy she was buried in all manner of pomp, pride, and splendour; a fine coffin with cords in it, and within the coffin along with herself, she got a pair of new brogues, a penny candle, a good hard-headed old hammer, with an Irish sixpenny piece, to pay her passage at the gate and what more could she look for.[168]
Tom. I really think you gave her enough along with her, but you ought to have cried for her, if it was no more but to be in the fashion.
Teag. And why should I cry without sorrow? when we hired two criers to cry all the way before her to keep in the fashion.
Tom. And what do they cry before a dead woman?
Teag. Why they cry the common cry, or funeral lament that is used in our Irish country.