“Essex.”
Well, me bould Essex stopped for odds of six months in Dublin, purtendin’ to be very busy subjugatin’ the country, but all the time only losin’ his time and money widout doin’ a hand’s turn, and doin’ his best to avoid a ruction with “Fighting Hugh.” If a messenger came to tell him that O’Neil was campin’ out on the North Bull, Essex would up stick and away for Sandycove, where, after draggin’ the forty-foot hole, he’d write off to Elizabeth, saying that “owing to their suparior knowledge of the country, the dastard foe had once more eluded him.”
The Queen got mighty tired of these letters, especially as they always ended with a request to send stamps by return, and told Essex to finish up his business and not be makin’ a fool of himself.
“Oh, that’s the talk, is it,” says Essex; “very well, me ould sauce-box” (that was the name he had for her ever since she gev him the clip on the ear for turnin’ his back on her), “very well, me ould sauce-box,” says he, “I’ll write off to O’Neil this very minute, and tell him to send in his lowest terms for peace at ruling prices.”
Well, the threaty was a bit of a one-sided one—the terms being—
1. Hugh O’Neil to be King of Great Britain.
2. Lord Essex to return to London and remain there as Viceroy of England.
3. The O’Neil family to be supported by Government, with free passes to all theatres and places of entertainment.
4. The London markets to buy only from Irish dealers.
5. All taxes to be sent in stamped envelope, directed to H. O’Neil, and marked “private.” Cheques crossed and made payable to H. O’Neil. Terms cash.