That thraitor, TIM, he'd be having his will on,
But for tearful O'BRIEN, and dismal DILLON.
As for tarin' TIM, he'd be hot at him,
Wid his ready sword from its scabbard flashin'!
But that meddlin' JUSTIN will be a thrustin'
Himself betune 'em, the duel dashin'!
Och, I assure ye,
Nor judge nor jury
Could abate their ardour, or assuage their fury.
Faix, Mount Vaysuvius, wid its flame and smother,