Sir W. and Clara (joyfully). Owen Larken!—you?
Christy. All lies! Asy talk!—asy talk—asy to belie a poor man.
Mr. H. If you tell the truth, you can tell us the next verse, for there’s another which we did not yet sing.
Christy. Not in my copy, which is the original.
Sir W. If you have another verse, let us hear it—and that will decide the business.
Christy. Oh, the devil another line, but what’s lame, I’ll engage, and forged, as you’ll see.
Mr. HOPE sings,
Quick spring the feelings of the heart,
When touch’d by Clara’s gen’rous art;
Quick as the grateful shamrock springs,
In the good fairies’ favour’d rings.
Clara. What does Christy say now?
Christy. Why, miss, I say that’s well said for the shamrock any way. And all that’s in it for me is this—the schoolmaster was a rogue that did not give me that verse in for my money.