Teag. Because they have liberty to eat flesh in lent, and everything that's fit for the belly.
Tom. What, Paddy, are you such a lover of flesh that you would change your profession for it?
Teag. O yes, that's what I would. I love flesh of all kinds, sheep's beef, swine's mutton, hare's flesh, and hen's venison; but our religion is one of the hungriest in all the world, ah! but it makes my teeth to weep, and my stomach to water, when I see the Scotch Presbyterians, and English churchmen, in time of lent, feeding upon bulls' and sheep's young children.
Tom. What reward will you get when you are dead, for punishing your stomach so while you are alive?
Teag. By Shaint Patrick I'll live like a king when I'm dead, for I will neither pay for meat nor drink.
Tom. What, Paddy, do you think that you are to come alive again when you are dead?
Teag. O yes, we that are true Roman Catholics will live a long time after we are dead; when we die in love with the priests, and the good people of our profession.
Tom. And what assurance can your priest give you of that?
Teag. Arra, dear shoy, our priest is a great shaint, a good shoul, who can repeat a paternoster and Ave Maria, which will fright the very horned devil himself, and make him run for it, until he be like to fall and break his neck.
Tom. And what does he give you when you are dying? that makes you come alive again?