MORRIS MURPHY

LARRY LYNCH

ANDY BURKE

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Barrymount Boys, a secret Association of lawless men,

SERGEANT BRUFF
DORA MCMANEY

MRS. BROPHY

plotting against the Government

(a Sprightly Irish girl, beloved by Cornelius)
(a Widow, Mother to Cornelius)
SOLDIERS, PEAsants, BarryMOUNT BOYS, &c.

MR. C. PITT.
MR. W. II. NEWHAM.
MR. W. MORTON.
MR. J. PITT.

MISS S. MILES.
MRS. NEWHAM.

IRISH FAIR WITH DRINKING BOOTHS, &c.

Raal Irish Jig by the Boys and Hibernian Lilt.-MADLLE. C. STEPHAN.
SCRIMMAGE BETWEEN THE PISANTRY AND THE RED COATS.

INTERIOR OF WIDOW BROPHY'S FARM!-HUGH MUIR.

GLEN COILE BY MOONLIGHT

WITH FAIRY DELL AND MINIATURE LAKE.

THE

FAIRY MAN'S

REVENGE.

Exciting Encounter

Dastardly Odds

Ony, the Gorsoon, in the thick of the Fray.

THE VICTIM HURLED INTO THE LAKE.
TIMELY HELP AND RESCUE-TABLEAU!

DISTANT VIEW OF THE ABBEY.-MUIR.

Unlucky Meeting of the Colleen and her Tormentors.

POUL A DHOIL!

LAST SCENE.

POUL A DHOIL.

ACT I.

SCENE FIRST.-An Irish Fair. A good dance in real Irish fashion as the curtain rises, by PEASANTRY—after dance some exeunt in booths which are R. and L., and some R. U. E. Enter BRIAN, ANDY, MORRIS, LARRY, and BARRYMOUNT BOYS, L.

BRIAN. (points after PEASANTRY, R. U. E.) Bah, I've no patience wid them entirely, why don't they join with us to raise up ould Ireland from under the heel of the Saxon, so that the Green Isle may flourish as it did of ould.

MORRIS. (looks R.) Be 'asy, Brian, for here comes Corney Brophy, don't let him overhear ye, for I'm thinking that he's no friend of ours.

BRIAN. That's true for ye, Morris, boy, and it's the still tongue makes the wise head, anyhow.

ANDY. (points, R.) Look at the hat he's wearing, sure his hair will be growing through it at the next crop-and his coat ought to bring him a new one, for it's running to seed on his shoulders, anyhow.

MORRIS. What is it that brings him to the fair to-day, I wonder?

BRIAN. Why to sell his old mare, to be sure; it's the only thing he's got left worth a fi'penny.

ANDY. Faix and it's to the tanners he'd better be taking the ould mare, for its skin is the only thing worth a rap. BRIAN. Be asy, here he is.

Enter CORNELIUS BROPHY, R. 1 E. They go up, he sees them in conversation.

CORNE. (aside) It's myself they're talking about; I suppose they're wondering what I want at the fair to-day-I could tell 'em, that it's because the bailiffs have cleared my house and forced me to saddle my poor ould horse, while

my mother's low wailing was in my ears, and bring the poor animal here for what she'll fetch. And this-this is the end of Corney Brophy's devil-me-care days. I'm not worth a fl'penny, and my mother's at home crying to the bare walls of an empty house; Dora's lost to me too, and the very fellows yonder, that I made my friends only to ruin me, now give me the cold shoulder, and think them. selves my betters.

BRIAN. (aside to the others) Do ye hear that, it's of us he's speaking.

CORNE. By the light o' the world, I'd almost stop thinking of everything that once pleased me, for as much good fortune as would place me where I once was above them, then I'd have my foot on their necks, instead of my hand to theirs, as it used to be.

BRIAN. (comes down with others) You needn't be so proud, Mr. Corney, for to be poor, and seem poor is the divil all over; better your condition by joining with us, help us to banish the Saxon from our land. The French will help us, and

CORNE. Psha! it has always been the curse of Ireland's sons, waiting for others to help 'em, instead of trying to help themselves.

BRIAN. If you're not wid us, you're against us.

CORNE. Perhaps I am; if so, what then, Brian

Clancy ?

BRIAN. Why then sorrow to the day that sees you do it, vengeance on ye if ye split. Come, you must promise us you won't.

CORNE. I'll not, my tongue's my own, and I'll use it as I please.

BRIAN. Then if you won't be silent, we'll make you— upon him boys. (they are all advancing on CORNELIUS, when ONY enters R. U. E., and protects CORNELIUS with shillelagh.)

ONY. Asy now, it's four upon one ye are, whoo--for Master Corney, who'll looked crooked at him now? Will you (to BRIAN) or you (to MORRIS) or you (to HANDY) or the whole bilin' on ye put together singly in a lump.

BRIAN. Ony, I thought you were on our side.

ONY. So I am, when ye behave yourselves and stand up for your country, but not when ye knock your countrymen down.

BRIAN. Ar'n't ye sworn to aid us, and do what we bid ye for the honour of ould Ireland ?

ONY. Aye, for her honour, but not for her dishonour.

BRIAN. Ony, ye pretend to be a fool, and I'm thinking all the while that's a rogue ye are.

ONY. Sure it's very foolish I am when the moon's lying on her back like a pickled oyster-and as for being a rogue, if I am I've caught it of you.

BRIAN. And I suppose it's after peaching on the boys ye'll be to the sogers.

ONY. Not if ye let your brogues carry ye off and not meddle wid Master Corney.

BRIAN. (aside to others) You see now, boys, how he has us in his power, by raison of the secret he's got hould of. He'll be getting all our necks stretched some of these days.

MORRIS. (aside) Then stop his gab before he can do that

same.

BRIAN. (aside) We will; death's the best keeper of secrets. (aloud to CORNELIUS and ONY) Good day to ye boys, and don't be forgetting Mr. Corney, that there's more days than one. (Exeunt all but ONY and CORNELIUS, R. U. E. CORNE. Ony, I thank ye, and it's well pleased I am to see ye looking so well to-day.

ONY. Oh, I'm all right, I shouldn't have come to the fair to-day, only it's the girls, the thieves o' the world that are expecting me. Oh, the craythers, it's wonderful how I come over the soft sex, sure it isn't my clothes that does it, for the scarecrow in farmer Mahoney's field has the advantage of me in regard to his wardrobe-he's a gintleman compared wid me; faix, it's myself that'll be making an exchange wid him some o' these dark nights. CORNE. You should work, Ony, and buy yourself a new suit for Sundays.

ONY. Work's mighty fataguing, and being brought up wid the pigs makes me delicate.

CORNE. Well, good day, Ony, I'm looking for some one. ONY. Sure I know who it is-it's purty Miss Dora, who's got your heart in her hand as tight as ninepence.

CORNE. Ah, that's true for ye, Ony; but I see no more likelihood of our coming together than fire and water.

Enter MUSHA MERRY, the fairy man, R. U. E.

MUSHA. Asy, boy, how de ye know that-didn't I bid ye not be cast down for all's not come and gone yet. ONY. Oh, Mr. Merry, it's the wise man ye are. Ye can tell everybody's fortune and what's going to happen, but