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_Owen._ Gone to the well, and Gilbert with her. We met her, and he turned off with her, and I come on to tell you, mother dear.
_Widow._ Make me clear and certain; for I'm slow and weak, dear.
Who told you all this good? and is it true?--And my child Mabel _mavourneen_!--Oh, tell me again it's true.
_Owen._ True as life. But your lips is pale still, and you all in a tremble. So lean on me, mother dear, and come out into G.o.d's open air, till I see your spirit come back--and here's your bonnet, and we'll meet Mabel and Gilbert, and we'll all go up to the castle to give thanks to the lady.
_Widow._ (_looking up to heaven_) Thanks! Oh, hav'n't I great reason to be thankful, if ever widow had!
[_Exeunt, WIDOW leaning on OWEN._
SCENE II.
_An Apartment in Bannote Castle._
_Footmen bringing in Baskets of Flowers._
_Miss O'HARA and Sir WILLIAM HAMDEN._
_Clara._ Now, my dear uncle, I want to consult you.
_Sir W._ And welcome, my child. But if it is about flowers, you could not consult a worse person, for I scarcely know a rose from a ----. What is this you have here--a thistle?
_Clara._ Yes, sir; and that is the very thing I want your opinion about.
_Sir W._ Well, my dear, all I know about thistles, I think, is, that a.s.ses love thistles--will that do?
_Clara._ Oh, no, sir--pray be serious, for I am in the greatest hurry to settle how it is all to be. You know it is St. Patrick's day.
_Sir W._ Yes, and here is plenty of shamrock, I see.
_Clara._ Yes, here is the shamrock--the rose, the ever blowing rose--and the thistle. And as we are to have Scotch, English, and Irish at our little fete champetre this evening, don't you think it would be pretty to have the tents hung with the rose, thistle, and shamrock joined?
_Sir W._ Very pretty, my dear: and I am glad there are to be tents, otherwise a fete champetre in the month of March would give me the rheumatism even to think of.
_Clara._ Oh, my dear sir, not at all. You will be snug and warm in the green-house.
_Sir W._ Well, Clara, dispose of me as you please--I am entirely at your service for the rest of my days.
_Clara._ Thank you, sir--you are the best of uncles, guardians, and friends.
[_Miss O'HARA goes back and appears to be giving directions to the servants._
_Sir W._ Uncle, nature made me--guardian, your father made me--friend, you made me yourself, Clara. (_Sir WILLIAM comes forward, and speaks as if in a reverie._) And ever more my friends.h.i.+p for her shall continue, though my guardians.h.i.+p is over. I am glad I conquered my indolence, and came to Ireland with her; for a cool English head will be wanting to guide that warm Irish heart.--And here I stand counsel for prudence against generosity!
_Clara._ (_advancing to him playfully_) A silver penny for your thoughts, uncle.
_Sir W._ Shall I never teach you economy?--such extravagance! to give a penny, and a silver penny, for what you may have for nothing.
_Clara._ Nothing can come of nothing--speak again.
_Sir W._ I was thinking of you, my--_ward_ no longer.
_Clara._ Ward always, pray, sir. Whatever I may be in the eye of the law, I am not arrived at years of discretion yet, in my own opinion, nor in yours, I suspect. So I pray you, uncle, let me still have the advantage of your counsel and guidance.
_Sir W._ You ask for my advice, Clara. Now let me see whether you will take it.
_Clara._ I am all attention.
_Sir W._ You know you must allow me a little prosing. You are an heiress, Clara--a rich heiress--an Irish heiress. You desire to do good, don't you?
_Clara._ (_with eagerness_) With all my heart!--With all my soul!
_Sir W._ That is not enough, Clara. You must not only desire to do good, you must know how to do it.
_Clara._ Since you, uncle, know that so well, you will teach it to me.
_Sir W._ Dear, flattering girl--but you shall not flatter me out of the piece of advice I have ready for you. Promise me two things.
_Clara._ And first, for your first.
_Sir W._ _Finish whatever you begin._--Good beginnings, it is said, make good endings, but great beginnings often make little endings, or, in this country, no endings at all. _Finis coronat opta_--and that crown is wanting wherever I turn my eyes. Of the hundred magnificent things your munificent father began--
_Clara._ (_interrupting_) Oh, sir, spare my father!--I promise you that _I_ will finish whatever I begin. What's your next command?
_Sir W._ Promise me that you will never make a promise to a tenant, nor any agreement about business, but in writing--and empower me to say that you will never keep any verbal promise about business--then, none such will ever be claimed.
_Clara._ I promise you--Stay!--this is a promise about business: I must give it to you in writing.
[_Miss O'HARA sits down to a writing-table, and writes._
_Sir W._ (_looking out of the window_) I hope I have been early enough in giving this my second piece of advice, worth a hundred sequins--for I see the yard is crowded with gray-coated suitors, and the table here is already covered with letters and pet.i.tions.
_Clara._ Yes, uncle, but I have not read half of them yet.
[_Presents the written promise to Sir WILLIAM._
_Sir W._ Thank you, my dear; and you will be thankful to me for this when I am dead and gone.
_Clara._ And whilst you are alive and here, if you please, uncle. Now, sir, since you are so kind to say that your time is at my disposal, will you have the goodness to come with me to these gray-coated suitors, and let us give answers to these poor pet.i.tioners, who, "as in duty bound, will ever pray."
[_Takes up a bundle of papers._
_Sir W._ (_taking a letter from his pocket_) First, my dear niece, I must add to the number. I have a little business. A pet.i.tion to present from a _protege_ of mine.
