SCENE I.—Interior of an Irish hut; door and small opening, R. C. Door L. C. in flat.

Danny [In his sleep.] Gi’ me the paper, thin—screeching won’t save ye—down—down! [Wakes.] Oh, mother! darlin’ mother!

Sheelah [Waking.] Eh! did ye call me, Danny?

Danny Gi’ me a dhrop of wather—it’s the thirst that’s a killin’ me.

Sheelah [Takes jug.] The fever’s on ye mighty bad.

Danny [Drinks, falls back, groans.] Oh, the fire in me won’t go out! How long have I been here?

Sheelah Ten days this night.

Danny Ten days dis night! Have I been all that time out of my mind?

Sheelah Iss, Danny. Ten days ago, that stormy night, ye crawled in at that dure, wake an’ like a ghost.

Danny I remind me now.

Sheelah Ye tould me that ye’d been poachin’ salmon, and had been shot by the keepers.

Danny Who said I hadn’t?

Sheelah Divil a one! Why did ye make me promise not to say a word about it? Didn’t ye refuse even to see a doctor itself?

Danny Has any one axed after me?

Sheelah No one but Mr. Hardress.

Danny Heaven bless him!

Sheelah I told him I hadn’t seen ye, and here ye are this day groanin’ when there’s great doin’s up at Castle Chute. To-morrow the masther will be married to Miss Anne.

Danny Married! but—the—his—

Sheelah Poor Eily, ye mane?

Danny Hide the candle from my eyes—it’s painin’ me; shade it off. Go on, mother.

Sheelah The poor Colleen! Oh, no, Danny, I knew she’d die of the love that was chokin’ her. He didn’t know how tindher she was when he gave her the hard word. What was that message the masther sent to her, that he wouldn’t let me hear? It was cruel, Danny, for it broke her heart entirely; she went away that night, and, two days after, a cloak was found floatin’ in the reeds, under Brikeen Bridge; nobody knew it but me. I turned away, and never said—. The creature is drowned, Danny, and woe to them as dhruv her to it. She has no father, no mother to put a curse on him, but the Father above that niver spakes till the last day, and then—[She turns and sees Danny gasping, his eyes fixed on her, supporting himself on his arm.] Danny! Danny! he’s dyin’—he’s dyin’!

Danny Who said that? Ye lie! I never killed her—sure he sent me the glove—where is it?

Sheelah He’s ravin’ again.

Danny The glove—he sent it to me full of blood. Oh, master, dear, there’s your token. I told ye I would clear the path foreninst ye.

Sheelah Danny, what d’ye mane?

Danny I’ll tell ye how I did it, masther; ’twas dis way—but don’t smile like dat—don’t, sir! She wouldn’t give me de marriage lines, so I sunk her and her proofs wid her. She’s gone! she came up wonst, but I put her down agin. Never fear—she’ll never throuble yer again—never—never!

Sheelah ’Twas he! he!—my own son—he’s murdered her, and he’s dyin’ now—dyin’, wid blood on his hands! Danny! Danny! spake to me!

Danny A docther! will they let me die like a baste, and never a docther?

Sheelah I’ll run for one that’ll cure ye. Oh, weerasthrue, Danny! Is it for this I’ve loved ye? No, forgive, acushla, it isn’t your own mother that ’ud add to yer heart-breakin’ and pain. I’ll fetch the docther, avick. [Music—puts on cloak, and pulls hood over her head.] Oh, hone! oh hone!

Corrig Sheelah! Sheelah! Nobody here? I’m bothered entirely. The cottage on Muckross Head is empty—not a sowl in it but a cat. Myles has disappeared, and Danny gone—vanished, bedad, like a fog—Sheelah is the only one remaining. I called to see Miss Chute; I was kicked out. I sent her a letter; it was returned to me, unopened. Her lawyer has paid off the mortgage, and taxed my bill of costs—the spalpeen! [Danny groans.] What’s that? Some one is asleep there. ’Tis Danny!

Danny A docther!—gi’ me a docther!

Corrig Danny here—concealed, too! Oh, there’s something going on that’s worth peepin’ into. Whist! there’s footsteps comin’. If I could hide a bit. I’m a magistrate, an’ I ought to know what’s goin’ on—here’s a turf-hole, wid a windy in it.

Sheelah [Goes to Danny.] Danny!

Danny Is that you, mother?

Sheelah I’ve brought the docther, asthore. [Danny looks up.

Danny The priest!

Sheelah [On her knees, R. of bed.] Oh, my darlin’! don’t be angry wid me, but dis is the docther you want; it isn’t in your body where the hurt is; the wound is in your poor sowl—there’s all the harrum.

Father T Danny, my son—[Sits L. of bed.]—it’s sore-hearted I am to see you down this way.

Sheelah And so good a son he was to his ould mother.

Danny Don’t say that—don’t! [Covering his face.

Sheelah I will say it—my blessin’ on ye—see that, now, he’s cryin’.

Father T Danny, the hand of death is on ye. Will ye lave your sins behind ye here below, or will ye take them with ye above, to show them on ye? Is there anything ye can do that’ll mend a wrong? leave that legacy to your friend, and he’ll do it. Do ye want pardon of any one down here? tell me, avick; I’ll get it for ye and send it after you—may be ye’ll want it.

Danny [Rising up an arm.] I killed Eily O’Connor.

Sheelah [Covers her face with her hands.] Oh! oh!

Father T What harrum had ye agin the poor Colleen Bawn?

Danny She stud in his way, and he had my heart and sowl in his keeping.

Father T Hardress?

Danny Hisself! I said I’d do it for him, if he’d give me the token.

Father T Did Hardress employ you to kill the girl?

Danny He sent me the glove; that was to be the token that I was to put her away, and I did—I—in the Pool a Dhiol. She would not gi’ me the marriage lines; I threw her in and then I was kilt.

Father T Killed! by whose hand?

Danny I don’t know, unless it was the hand of heaven.

Father T [Rising, goes down—aside.] Myles na Coppaleen is at the bottom of this; his whisky-still is in that cave, and he has not been seen for ten days past. [Aloud—goes to Danny.] Danny, after ye fell, how did ye get home?

Danny I fell in the wather; the current carried me to a rock; how long I was there half drowned I don’t know, but on wakin’ I found my boat floatin’ close by, an’ it was still dark; I got in and crawled here.

Father T [Aside.] I’ll go and see Myles—there’s more in this than has come out.

Sheelah Won’t yer riverince say a word of comfort to the poor boy? He’s in great pain entirely.

Father T Keep him quiet, Sheelah. [Music.] I’ll be back again with the comfort for him. Danny, your time is short; make the most of it. [Aside.] I’m off to Myles na Coppaleen. Oh, Hardress Cregan—[Going up.]—ye little think what a bridal day ye’ll have!

Corrig [Who has been writing in note-book, comes out at back.] I’ve got down every word of the confession. Now, Hardress Cregan, there will be guests at your weddin’ to-night ye little dhrame of.

Danny [Rising up.] Mother, mother! the pain is on me. Wather—quick—wather!

Kyrle Inform Mrs. Cregan that I am waiting upon her.

Mrs. C I am glad to see you, Kyrle. [Exit Servant, L.

Kyrle [R. C.] You sent for me, Mrs. Cregan. My ship sails from Liverpool to-morrow. I never thought I could be so anxious to quit my native land.

Mrs. C I want you to see Hardress. For ten days past he shuns the society of his bride. By night he creeps out alone in his boat on the lake—by day he wanders round the neighborhood, pale as death. He is heart-broken.

Kyrle Has ye asked to see me?

Mrs. C Yesterday he asked where you were.

Kyrle Did he forget that I left your house when Miss Chute, without a word of explanation, behaved so unkindly to me?

Mrs. C She is not the same girl since she accepted Hardress. She quarrels—weeps—complains, and has lost her spirits.

Kyrle She feels the neglect of Hardress.

Anne [Without, R.] Don’t answer me! Obey, and hold your tongue!

Mrs. C Do you hear? she is rating one of the servants.

Anne [Without.] No words—I’ll have no sulky looks, neither.

Anne Is that the vail and wreath I ordered? How dare you tell me that? [Throws it off, R.

Mrs. C Anne! [Anne sees Kyrle—stands confused.

Kyrle You are surprised to see me in your house, Miss Chute?

Anne You are welcome, sir.

Kyrle [Aside.] She looks pale! She’s not happy—that’s gratifying.

Anne [Aside.] He doesn’t look well—that’s some comfort.

Mrs. C I’ll try to find Hardress. [Exit Mrs. Cregan, L.

Kyrle I hope you don’t think I intrude—that is—I came to see Mrs. Cregan.

Anne [Sharply.] I don’t flatter myself you wished to see me; why should you?

Kyrle Anne, I am sorry I offended you; I don’t know what I did, but no matter.

Anne Not the slightest.

Kyrle I released your neighborhood of my presence.

Anne Yes, and you released the neighborhood of the presence of somebody else—she and you disappeared together.

Kyrle She!

Anne Never mind.

Kyrle But I do mind. I love Hardress Cregan as a brother, and I hope the time may come, Anne, when I can love you as a sister.

Anne Do you? I don’t.

Kyrle I don’t want the dislike of my friend’s wife to part my friend and me.

Anne Why should it? I’m nobody.

Kyrle If you were my wife, and asked me to hate any one, I’d do it—I couldn’t help it.

Anne I believed words like that once when you spoke them, but I have been taught how basely you can deceive.

Kyrle Who taught you?

Anne Who?—your wife.

Kyrle My what?

Anne Your wife—the girl you concealed in the cottage on Muckross Head. Stop, now—don’t speak—save a falsehood, however many ye may have to spare. I saw the girl—she confessed.

Kyrle Confessed that she was my wife?

Anne Made a clean breast of it in a minute, which is more than you could do with a sixteen-foot wagon and a team of ten, in a week.

Kyrle Anne, hear me; this is a frightful error—the girl will not repeat it.

Anne Bring her before me and let her speak.

Kyrle How do I know where she is?

Anne Well, bring your boatman then, who told me the same.

Kyrle I tell you it is false; I never saw—never knew the girl.

Anne You did not? [Shows Eily’s letter.] Do you know that? You dropped it, and I found it.

Kyrle [Takes letter.] This! [Reads.

Anne Hardress! [Turns aside.

Kyrle Oh! [Suddenly struck with the truth; glances towards Anne; finding her looking away, places letter to Hardress.] Do you know that?—you dropped it.

Hard [Conceals letter.] Eh? Oh!

Kyrle ’Twas he. [Looks from one to the other.] She thinks me guilty; but if I stir to exculpate myself, he is in for it.

Hard You look distressed, Kyrle. Anne, what is the matter?

Kyrle Nothing, Hardress. I was about to ask Miss Chute to forget a subject which was painful to her, and to beg of her never to mention it again—not even to you, Hardress.

Hard I am sure she will deny you nothing.

Anne I will forget, sir. [Aside.] But I will never forgive him—never.

Kyrle [Aside.] She loves me still, and he loves another, and I am the most miserable dog that ever was kicked. [Crosses to L.] Hardress, a word with you. [Exeunt Kyrle and Hardress, L.

Anne And this is my wedding day. There goes the only man I ever loved. When he’s here near by me, I could give him the worst treatment a man could desire, and when he goes away he takes the heart and all of me off with him, and I feel like an unfurnished house. This is pretty feelings for a girl to have, and she in her regimentals. Oh! if he wasn’t married—but he is, and he’d have married me as well—the malignant! Oh! if he had, how I’d have made him swing for it—it would have afforded me the happiest moment of my life. [Exit Anne, L. Music.

Father T Here’s Myle’s shanty. I’m nearly killed with climbin’ the hill. I wonder is he at home? Yes, the door is locked inside. [Knocks.] Myles—Myles, are ye at home?

Myles [Outside, R. 2 E.] No—I’m out.

Arrah! is it yourself, Father Tom, that’s in it?

Father T Let us go inside, Myles—I’ve a word to say t’ye.

Myles I—I’ve lost the key.

Father T Sure it’s stickin’ inside.

Myles I always lock the dure inside and lave it there when I go out, for fear on losin’ it.

Father T Myles, come here to me. It’s lyin’ ye are. Look me in the face. What’s come to ye these tin days past—three times I’ve been to your door and it was locked, but I heard ye stirrin’ inside.

Myles It was the pig, yer riverince.

Father T Myles, why did yer shoot Danny Mann?

Myles Oh, murther, who tould you that?

Father T Himself.

Myles Oh, Father Tom! have ye’ seen him?

Father T I’ve just left him.

Myles Is it down there ye’ve been?

Father T Down where?

Myles Below, where he’s gone to—where would he be, afther murthering a poor crature?

Father T How d’ye know that?

Myles How! how did I!—whist, Father Tom, it was his ghost.

Father T He is not dead, but dyin’ fast, from the wound ye gave him.

Myles I never knew ’twas himself ’till I was tould.

Father T Who tould you?

Myles Is it who?

Father T Who? who?—not Danny, for he doesn’t know who killed him.

Myles Wait, an’ I’ll tell you. It was nigh twelve that night, I was comin’ home—I know the time, betoken Murty Dwyer made me step in his shebeen, bein’ the wake of the ould Callaghan, his wife’s uncle—and a dacent man he was. “Murty,” sez I—

Father T Myles, you’re desavin’ me.

Myles Is it afther desavin’ yer riverence I’d be?

Father T I see the lie in yer mouth. Who tould ye it was Danny Mann ye killed?

Myles You said so a while ago.

Father T Who tould ye it was Danny Mann?

Myles I’m comin’ to it. While I was at Murty’s, yer riverince, as I was a-tellin’ you—Dan Dayley was there—he had just kim’d in. “Good morrow,—good day”—ses he. “Good morrow, good Dan, ses I,”—jest that ways entirely—“it’s an opening to the heart to see you.” Well, yer riverence, as I ware sayin’,—“long life an’ good wife to ye, Masther Dan,” ses I. “Thank ye, ses he, and the likes to ye, anyway.” The moment I speck them words, Dan got heart, an’ up an’ tould Murty about his love for Murty’s darter—the Colleen Rue. The moment he heard that, he puts elbows in himself, an’ stood lookin’ at him out on the flure. “You flog Europe, for boldness,” ses he—“get out of my sight,” ses he,—“this moment,” ses he,—“or I’ll give yer a kick that will rise you from poverty to the highest pitch of affluence,” ses he—“away out ’o that, you notorious delinquent; single your freedom, and double your distance,” ses he. Well, Dan was forced to cut an’ run. Poor boy! I was sorry for his trouble; there isn’t a better son nor brother this moment goin’ the road than what he is—said—said—there was’nt better, an’, an’—oh! Father Tom, don’t ax me; I’ve got an oath on my lips. [Music.] Don’t be hard on a poor boy.

Father T I lift the oath from ye. Tell me, avick, oh! tell me. Did ye search for the poor thing—the darlin’ soft-eyed Colleen? Oh, Myles! could ye lave her to lie in the cowld lake all alone?

Myles No, I couldn’t.

Father T [Turns—sees Eily.] Eily! Is it yourself, and alive—an’ not—not—Oh! Eily, mavourneen. Come to my heart.

Myles [Crosses to L.] D’ye think ye’d see me alive if she wasn’t? I thought ye knew me better—it’s at the bottom of the Pool a Dhiol I’d be this minute if she wasn’t to the fore.

Father T [C.] Speak to me—let me hear your voice.

Eily Oh, father, father! won’t ye take me far, far away from this place?

Father T Why did ye hide yourself this way?

Eily For fear he’d see me.

Father T Hardress? You knew then that he instigated Danny to get rid of ye?

Eily Why didn’t I die—why am I alive now for him to hate me?

Father T D’ye know that in a few hours he is going to marry another?

Eily I know it. Myles tould me—that’s why I’m hiding myself.

Father T What does she mean?

Myles [L.] She loves him still—that’s what she manes.

Father T Love the wretch who sought your life!

Eily Isn’t it his own? It isn’t his fault if his love couldn’t last as long as mine. I was a poor, mane creature—not up to him any way; but if he’d only said, “Eily, put the grave between us and make me happy,” sure I’d lain down, wid a big heart, in the loch.

Father T And you are willing to pass a life of seclusion that he may live in his guilty joy?

Eily If I was alive wouldn’t I be a shame to him an’ a ruin—ain’t I in his way? Heaven help me—why would I trouble him? Oh! he was in great pain o’ mind entirely when he let them put a hand on me—the poor darlin’.

Father T And you mean to let him believe you dead?

Eily Dead an’ gone: then, perhaps, his love for me will come back, and the thought of his poor, foolish little Eily that worshiped the ground he stood on, will fill his heart a while.

Father T And where will you go?

Eily I don’t know. Anywhere. What matters?

Myles [Against wing, L.] Love makes all places alike.

Eily I am alone in the world now.

Father T The villain—the monster! He sent her to heaven because he wanted her there to blot out with her tears the record of his iniquity. Eily, ye have but one home, and that’s my poor house. You are not alone in the world—there’s one beside ye, your father, and that’s myself.

Myles Two—bad luck to me, two. I am her mother; sure I brought her into the world a second time.

Father T [Looking, R.] Whisht! look down there, Myles—what’s that on the road?

Myles [Crosses R.] It’s the sogers—a company of red-coats. What brings the army out?—who’s that wid them?—it is ould Corrigan, and they are going towards Castle Chute. There’s mischief in the wind.

Father T In with you, an’ keep close a while; I’ll go down to the castle and see what’s the matter. [Crosses R.

Eily Promise me that you’ll not betray me—that none but your self and Myles shall ever know I’m livin; promise me that before you go.

Father T I do, Eily; I’ll never breathe a word of it—it is as sacred as an oath. [Exit L.—music.

Eily [Going to cottage.] Shut me in, Myles, and take the key wid ye, this time. [Exit in cottage, R. C.

Myles [Locks door.] There ye are like a pearl in an oyster; now I’ll go to my bed as usual on the mountain above—the bolster is stuffed wid rocks, and I’ll have a cloud round me for a blanket.

Corrig Quietly, boys; sthrew yourselves round the wood—some of ye at the gate beyant—two more this way—watch the windies; if he’s there to escape at all, he’ll jump from a windy. The house is surrounded.

Oh, oh! they’re dancin’—dancin’ and merry-making, while the net is closin’ around ’em. Now Masther Hardress Cregan—I was kicked out, was I; but I’ll come this time wid a call that ye’ll answer wid your head instead of your foot. My letters were returned unopened; but here’s a bit of writin’ that ye’ll not be able to hand back so easy.

Corp All right, sir.

Corrig Did you find the woman, as I told ye?

Corp Here she is, sir.

Sheelah [Crying.] What’s this? Why am I thrated this way—what have I done?

Corrig You are wanted a while—it’s your testimony we require. Bring her this way. Follow me! [Exit, L.

Sheelah [Struggling.] Let me go back to my boy. Ah! good luck t’ye, don’t kape me from my poor boy! [Struggling.] Oh! you dirty blackguards, let me go—let me go!

Hyland Ducie, they are dancing the Boulanger, and they can’t see the figure unless you lend them the light of your eyes.

Kathleen We have danced enough; it is nearly seven o’clock.

Ducie Mr. O’Moore; when is the ceremony to commence?

O’Moore The execution is fixed for seven—here’s the scaffold, I presume. [Points to table.

Hyland Hardress looks like a criminal. I’ve seen him fight three duels, and he never showed such a pale face as he exhibits to-night.

Ducie He looks as if he was frightened at being so happy.

Hyland And Kyrle Daly wears as gay an appearance.

Ducie Hush! here he is.

Kyrle That need not stop your speech, Hyland. I don’t hide my love for Anne Chute, and it is my pride, and no fault of mine if she has found a better man.

Hyland He is not a better man.

Kyrle He is—she thinks so—what she says becomes the truth.

Mrs. C Who says the days of chivalry are over? Come, gentlemen, the bridesmaids must attend the bride. The guests will assemble in the hall.

Serv Mr. Bertie O’Moore, if you plase. A gentlemen below asked me to hand you this card.

O’Moore A gentleman! what can he want? [Reads card.] Ah! indeed; this is a serious matter, and excuses the intrusion.

Hyland What’s the matter?

O’Moore A murder has been committed.

All A murder?

O’Moore The perpetrator of the deed has been discovered, and the warrant for his arrest requires my signature.

Hyland Hang the rascal. [Goes up with Ducie.

O’Moore A magistrate, like a doctor, is called on at all hours.

Mrs. C We can excuse you for such a duty, Mr. O’Moore.

O’Moore [Crossing, R.] This is the result of some brawl at a fair, I suppose. Is Mr. Corrigan below?

Mrs. C [Starting.] Corrigan?

O’Moore Show me to him.

Mrs. C Corrigan here! What brings that man to this house?

Hardress [Sits, L.] It is in vain—I can not repress the terror with which I approach these nuptials—yet, what have I to fear? Oh! my heart is bursting with its load of misery.

Anne Hardress! what is the matter with you?

Hard [Rising, L. C.] I will tell you—yes, it may take this horrible oppression from my heart. At one time I thought you knew my secret: I was mistaken. The girl you saw at Muckross Head—

Anne [R. C.] Eily O’Connor?

Hard Was my wife!

Anne Your wife?

Hard Hush! Maddened with the miseries this act brought upon me, I treated her with cruelty—she committed suicide.

Anne Merciful powers!

Hard She wrote to me bidding me farewell forever, and the next day her cloak was found floating in the lake. [Anne sinks in chair.] Since then I have neither slept nor waked—I have but one thought, one feeling; my love for her, wild and maddened, has come back upon my heart like a vengeance.

Anne Heaven defend our hearts, what is that?

Mrs. C Hardress! my child!

Hard Mother!

Anne Mother, he is here. Look on him—speak to him—do not gasp and stare on your son in that horrid way. Oh, mother! speak, or you will break my heart.

Mrs. C Fly—fly! [Hardress going, R.] Not that way. No—the doors are defended! there is a soldier placed at every entrance! You—are trapped and caught—what shall we do?—the window in my chamber—come—come—quick—quick!

Anne Of what is he accused!

Hard Of murder. I see it in her face. [Noise, R.

Mrs. C Hush! they come—begone! Your boat is below that window. Don’t speak! when oceans are between you and danger—write! Till then not a word. [Forcing him off, R. 3 E.—noise, R.

Anne Accused of murder! He is innocent!

Mrs. C Go to your room! Go quickly to your room, you will betray him—you can’t command your features.

Anne Dear mother, I will.

Mrs. C Away, I say—you will drive me frantic, girl. My brain is stretched to cracking! Ha! [Noise, R.

Anne There is a tumult in the drawing-room.

Mrs. C They come! You tremble! Go—take away your puny love; hide it where it will not injure him—leave me to face this danger!

Anne He is not guilty.

Mrs. C What’s that to me, woman? I am his mother—the hunters are after my blood! Sit there—look away from this door. They come!

Corrig Gentlemen, put up your swords; the house is surrounded by a military force, and we are here in the king’s name.

Anne [R.] Gentlemen, come on, there was a time in Ireland when neither king nor faction could call on Castle Chute without a bloody welcome.

Guests Clear them out!

Kyrle [Interposing.] Anne, are you mad? Put up your swords—stand back there—speak—O’Moore, what does this strange outrage mean?

O’Moore Mrs. Cregan, a fearful charge is made against your son; I know—I believe he is innocent; I suggest, then, that the matter be investigated here at once, amongst his friends, so that this scandal may be crushed in its birth.

Kyrle Where is Hardress?

Corrig Where?—why, he’s escaping while we are jabbering here. Search the house. [Exit two Soldiers, R. 3 E.

Mrs. C [L.] Must we submit to this, sir? Will you, a magistrate, permit—

O’Moore I regret Mrs. Cregan, but as a form—

Mrs. C Go on, sir!

Corrig [At door, L. 3 E.] What room is this? ’tis locked—

Mrs. C That is my sleeping chamber.

Corrig My duty compels me—

Mrs. C [Throws key down on ground.] Be it so, sir.

Corrig [Picks up key—unlocks door.] She had the key—he’s there.

Mrs. C He has escaped by this time.

O’Moore [At L. table.] I hope Miss Chute will pardon me for my share in this transaction—believe me, I regret—

Anne Don’t talk to me of your regret, while you are doing your worst. It is hate, not justice, that brings this accusation against Hardress, and this disgrace upon me.

Kyrle Anne!

Anne Hold your tongue—his life’s in danger, and if I can’t love him, I’ll fight for him, and that’s more than any of you men can do. [To O’Moore.] Go on with your dirty work. You have done the worst now—you have dismayed our guests, scattered terror amid our festival, and made the remembrance of this night, which should have been a happy one, a thought of gloom and shame.

Mrs. C Hark! I hear—I hear his voice. It can not be.

Corrig The prisoner is here!

Mrs. C [C.] Ah, [Utters a cry.] is he? Dark bloodhound, have you found him? May the tongue that tells me so be withered from the roots, and the eye that first detected him be darkened in its socket!

Kyrle Oh, madam! for heaven’s sake!

Anne Mother! mother!

Mrs. C What! shall it be for nothing he has stung the mother’s heart, and set her brain on fire?

I tell you that my tongue may hold its peace, but there is not a vein in all my frame but curses him. [Turns—sees Hardress; falls on his breast.] My boy! my boy!

Hard [L.] Mother, I entreat you to be calm. [Crosses to C.] Kyrle, there are my hands, do you think there is blood upon them?

Hard I thank you, gentlemen; your hands acquit me. Mother, be calm—sit there. [Points to chair, L.

Anne Come here, Hardress; your place is here by me.

Hard [R. C.] Now, sir, I am ready.

Corrig [L. of table.] I will lay before you, sir, the deposition upon which the warrant issues against the prisoner. Here is the confession of Daniel or Danny Mann, a person in the service of the accused, taken on his death-bed—in articulo mortis, you’ll observe.

O’Moore But not witnessed.

Corrig [Calling.] Bring in that woman.

I have witnesses. Your worship will find the form of the law in perfect shape.

O’Moore Read the confession, sir.

Corrig [Reads.] “The deponent being on his death-bed, in the presence of Sheelah Mann and Thomas O’Brien, parish priest of Kinmare, deposed and said”—

Oh, you are come in time, sir.

Father T I hope I am.

Corrig We may have to call your evidence.

Father T [C.] I have brought it with me.

Corrig “Deposed and said, that he, deponent, killed Eily O’Connor; that said Eily was the wife of Hardress Cregan, and stood in the way of his marriage with Miss Anne Chute; deponent offered to put away the girl, and his master employed him to do so.”

O’Moore Sheelah, did Danny confess this crime?

Sheelah [L. C.] Divil a word—it’s a lie from end to end; that ould thief was niver in my cabin—he invented the whole of it—sure you’re the divil’s own parverter of the truth.

Corrig Am I? Oh, oh! Father Tom will scarcely say as much? [To him.] Did Danny Mann confess this in your presence?

Father T I decline to answer that question!

Corrig Aha! you must—the law will compel you!

Father T I’d like to see the law that can unseal the lips of the priest, and make him reveal the secrets of heaven.

Anne So much for your two witnesses. Ladies, stand close. Gentlemen, give us room here.

Corrig We have abundant proof, your worship—enough to hang a whole country. Danny isn’t dead yet. Deponent agreed with Cregan that if the deed was to be done, that he, Cregan, should give his glove as a token.

Mrs. C Ah!

Hard Hold! I confess that what he has read is true. Danny did make the offer, and I repelled his horrible proposition.

Corrig Aha! but you gave him the glove.

Hard Never, by my immortal soul—never!

Mrs. C [Advancing.] But I—I did! [Movement of surprise.] I your wretched mother—I gave it to him—I am guilty! thank heaven for that! remove those bonds from his hands and put them here on mine.

Hard ’Tis false, mother, you did not know his purpose—you could not know it. [Corporal takes off handcuffs.

Mrs. C I will not say anything that takes the welcome guilt from off me.

Myles Won’t ye, ma’am? Well, if ye won’t, I will.

All Myles!

Myles Save all here. If you plaze, I’d like to say a word; there’s been a murder done, and I done it.

All You!

Myles Myself. Danny was killed by my hand. [To Corrig.] Were yez any way nigh that time?

Corrig [Quickly.] No.

Myles [Quickly.] That’s lucky; then take down what I’m sayin’. I shot the poor boy—but widout manin’ to hurt him. It’s lucky I killed him that time, for it’s lifted a mighty sin off the sowl of the crature.

O’Moore What does he mean?

Myles I mane, that if you found one witness to Eily O’Connor’s death, I found another that knows a little more about it, and here she is.

All Eily!

Myles The Colleen Bawn herself!

Eily Hardress! }

Hard My wife—my own Eily. }

Eily Here, darlin’, take the paper, and tear it if you like.

Hard Eily, I could not live without you.

Mrs. C If ever he blamed you, it was my foolish pride spoke in his hard words—he loves you with all his heart. Forgive me, Eily.

Eily Forgive!

Mrs. C Forgive your mother, Eily.

Eily [Embracing her.] Mother!

Anne But what’s to become of me? is all my emotion to be summoned for nothing? Is my wedding dress to go to waste, and here’s all my blushes ready? I must have a husband.

Hyland and Gentlemen Take me.

O’Moore Take me.

Anne Don’t all speak at once! Where’s Mr. Daly?

Kyrle [R.] Here I am, Anne!

Anne [R. C.] Kyrle, come here! You said you loved me, and I think you do.

Kyrle Oh!

Anne Behave yourself now. If you’ll ask me, I’ll have you.

Kyrle [Embracing Anne.] Anne! [Shouts outside, L. U. E.

All What’s that?

Myles [Looking off out at back.] Don’t be uneasy! it’s only the boys outside that’s caught ould Corrigan thryin’ to get off, and they’ve got him in the horse-pond.

Kyrle They’ll drown him.

Myles Niver fear, he wasn’t born to be drowned—he won’t sink—he’ll rise out of the world, and divil a fut nearer heaven he’ll get than the top o’ the gallows.

Eily [To Hard.] And ye won’t be ashamed of me?

Anne I’ll be ashamed of him if he does.

Eily And when I spake—no—speak—

Anne Spake is the right sound. Kyrle Daly, pronounce that word.

Kyrle That’s right; if you ever spake it any other way I’ll divorce ye—mind that.

Father T Eily, darlin’, in the middle of your joy, sure you would not forget one who never forsook you in your sorrow.

Eily Oh, Father Tom!

Father T Oh, it’s not myself I mane.

Anne No, it’s that marauder there, that lent me his top coat in the thunder storm. [Pointing to Myles.

Myles Bedad, ma’am, your beauty left a linin’ in it that has kept me warm ever since.

Eily Myles, you saved my life—it belongs to you. There’s my hand—what will you do with it?

Myles [Takes her hand and Hardress’s.] Take her, wid all my heart. I may say that, for ye can’t take her without. I am like the boy who had a penny to put in the poor-box—I’d rather keep it for myself. It’s a shamrock itself ye have got, sir; and like that flower she’ll come up every year fresh and green foreninst ye. When ye cease to love her may dyin’ become ye, and when ye do die, lave yer money to the poor, your widdy to me, and we’ll both forgive ye.

Eily I’m only a poor simple girl, and it’s frightened I am to be surrounded by so many—

Anne Friends, Eily, friends.

Eily Oh, if I could think so—if I could hope that I had established myself in a little corner of their hearts, there wouldn’t be a happier girl alive than The Colleen Bawn.

THE END.