“Would it not be quite right to saddle and bridle you all, and ride you violently down Holyhead or the Giant’s Causeway into the waters, causing you to perish there, like the herd of swine of old?”
“It would, your reverence.”
“And knowing and confessing all this, you have the cheek to come and ask me for a blessing?”
“We have, your reverence.”
“Well, how shall I give the blessing?”
“Och, sure your reverence knows very well how to give it.”
“Shall I give it in Irish?”
“Och, no, your reverence—a blessing in Irish is no blessing at all.”
“In English?”
“Och, murder, no, your reverence, God preserve us all from an English blessing!”