But see, where Norah with the sowins * comesThen let us rise, and rest our weary bums. THE GRAND QUESTION DEBATED : WHETHER HAMILTON'S BAWN SHOULD BE TURNED INTO A BARRACK OR MALT-HOUSE.† 1729. THUS spoke to my lady the knight ‡ full of care, * A sort of flummery.-F. + The author of the following poem wrote several other copies of verses of the like kind, by way of amusement, in the family of an honourable gentleman in the north of Ireland, where he spent a summer, about two or three years ago. A certain very great person, * then in that kingdom, having heard much of this poem, obtained a copy from the gentleman, or, as some say, the lady in whose house it was written, from whence I know not by what accident several other copies were transcribed full of errors. As I have a great respect for the supposed author, I have procured a true copy of the poem, the publication whereof can do him less injury than printing any of those incorrect ones which run about in manuscript, and would infallibly be soon in the press, if not thus prevented. Some expressions being peculiar to Ireland, we have explained them, and put the several explanations in their proper places. First ed. ‡ Sir Arthur Acheson, at whose seat this was written.-F. § A large old house, two miles from Sir Arthur's seat.-F. * John, Lord Carteret, then lord-lieutenant of Ireland, since Earl of Granville, in right of his mother.-F. But how to dispose of it to the best bidder, sider. " First, let me suppose I make it a malt-house, Here I have computed the profit will fall t' us : There's nine hundred pounds for labour and grain, I increase it to twelve, so three hundred remain ; A handsome addition for wine and good cheer, Three dishes a-day, and three hogsheads a-year; With a dozen large vessels my vault shall be stor'd; No little scrub joint shall come on my board; Thus ended the knight; thus began his meek wife: " It must, and it shall be a barrack, my life. * The army in Ireland was lodged in strong buildings, called barracks, which have lately been introduced into this country likewise.-H. + A cant-word in Ireland for a poor country clergyman.-F. * My lady's waiting-woman.-F. + Two of Sir Arthur's managers.-F. But if you will give us a barrack, my dear, Thus argued my lady, but argued in vain ; But Hannah, * who listened to all that was past, And could not endure so vulgar a taste, As soon as her ladyship call'd to be drest, Cry'd, "Madam, why surely my master's possest. Sir Arthur the maltster! how fine it will sound! I'd rather the bawn were sunk under ground. But, madam, I guess'd there would never come good, When I saw him so often with Darby and Wood. † And now my dream's out; for I was a-dream'd That I saw a huge rat-O dear, how I scream'd! And after, methought I had lost my new shoes ; And Molly, she said, I should hear some ill news. " Dear madam, had you but the spirit to teaze, You might have a barrack whenever you please : And, madam, I always believ'd you so stout, That for twenty denials you would not give out. If I had a husband like him, I purtest, Till he gave me my will, I would give him no rest; And, rather than come in the same pair of sheets With such a cross man, I would lie in the streets: 4 But, madam, I beg you, contrive and invent, behave; Noble captain, your servant'-' Sir Arthur, your slave; You honour me much' - The honour is mine.'''Twas a sad rainy night'-'But the morning is fine.' Pray, how does my lady?'-' My wife's at your service.' 5 • I think I have seen her picture by Jervas.'Good-morrow, good captain.'-' I'll wait on you down.' You sha'nt stir a foot.' - You'll think me a clown.' For all the world captain.'-' Not half an inch farther.' • You must be obey'd!'-' Your servant, Sir Arthur! My humble respects to my lady unknown.'• I hope you will use my house as your own." " Go bring me my smock and leave off your prate, Thou hast certainly gotten a cup in thy pate." "Pray, madam, be quiet: what was it I said? You had like to have put it quite out of my head. Next day to be sure, the captain will come, At the head of his troops, with trumpet and drum. Now, madam, observe how he marches in state: The man with the kettle-drum enters the gate: Dub, dub, adub, dub. The trumpeters follow. See now comes the captain all daub'd with gold lace: O la! the sweet gentleman! look in his face ; hand; And his horse, the dear creter, it prances and rears; STAND! Your ladyship lifts up the sash to be seen, For the right holds the sword, and the left holds the bridle.) Then flourishes thrice his sword in the air, Pray, captain, be pleas'd to alight and walk in.' |