And cheers its owner's eye with evergreen!
O'Carrol. Troth, lady, one honest potatoe in a garden is worth an hundred beds of your good-for-nothing tulips. Oh! 'tis meat and drink to me to see a friend! and, truly 'tis lucky, in this time of famine, to have one in the house to look at, to keep me from starving. Little did I think, eight years ago, when I came over among fifty thousand brave boys—English, Irish, and else,—to fight under King Edward, who now lies before Calais here, that I should find such a warm soul towards me in a Frenchman's body;—especially when the business, that brought me, was to help to give his countrymen a beating.
Julia. Thy gratitude, O'Carrol, has well repaid the pains my father took in preserving thee.
O'Carrol. Gratitude! fait, madam, begging your pardon, 'tis no such thing; 'tis nothing but showing the sense I have of my obligation. There was I, in the year 1339, in the English camp—on the fields of Vianfosse, near Capelle—which never came to an action; excepting a trifling bit of skirmish, in which my good cruel friends left me for dead out of our lines; when a kind enemy—your father—(a blessing on his friendly heart for it!) picked me up, and set the breath agoing again, that was almost thumped out of my body. He saved my life; it is but a poor commodity;—but, as long as it lasts, by my soul! he and his family shall have the wear and tear of it.
Julia. Thou hast been a trusty follower, O'Carrol; nay, more a friend than follower; thou art entwined in all the interests of our house, and art as attached to me as to my father.
O'Carrol. Ay, troth, Lady Julia, and a good deal more; more shame to me for it; because I am indebted for all to the Governor. I don't know how it may be with wiser nations, but if regard is to go to a whole family, there's a something about the female part of it that an Irishman can't help giving the preference to, for the soul of him.
Julia. But, tell me, who is with my father?
O'Carrol. Indeed that I will not—for a reason.
Julia. And what may the reason be?
O'Carrol. Because, long before he arrived, you bid me never mention his name. It may be, perhaps, the noble gentleman who has just succoured the town.—Well, if I must not say who is with my master, I may say who my master is with.—It is the Count Ribaumont.