St. Patricks Day

St. Patrick's Day

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Title: St. Patrick's Day
Author: Richard Brinsley Sheridan
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ST. PATRICK'S DAY;
OR, THE SCHEMING LIEUTENANT
A FARCE

DRAMATIS PERSONAE
AS ORIGINALLY ACTED AT COVENT-GARDEN THEATRE IN
1775
LIEUTENANT O'CONNOR _Mr. Clinch_. DR. ROSY _Mr. Quick_.
JUSTICE CREDULOUS _Mr. Lee Lewes_. SERJEANT TROUNCE
_Mr. Booth_. CORPORAL FLINT........................ LAURETTA _Mrs.
Cargill_. MRS. BRIDGET CREDULOUS _Mrs. Pitt_.
Drummer, Soldiers, Countrymen, and Servant.
SCENE--A TOWN IN ENGLAND.

ACT I.
SCENE I.--LIEUTENANT O'CONNOR's Lodgings.
Enter SERJEANT TROUNCE, CORPORAL FLINT, and four
SOLDIERS.
1 Sol. I say you are wrong; we should all speak together, each for
himself, and all at once, that we may be heard the better.
2 Sol. Right, Jack, we'll argue in platoons.
3 Sol. Ay, ay, let him have our grievances in a volley, and if we be to

have a spokesman, there's the corporal is the lieutenant's countryman,
and knows his humour.
Flint. Let me alone for that. I served three years, within a bit, under his
honour, in the Royal Inniskillions, and I never will see a sweeter
tempered gentleman, nor one more free with his purse. I put a great
shammock in his hat this morning, and I'll be bound for him he'll wear
it, was it as big as Steven's Green.
4 Sol. I say again then you talk like youngsters, like militia striplings:
there's a discipline, look'ee in all things, whereof the serjeant must be
our guide; he's a gentleman of words; he understands your foreign lingo,
your figures, and such like auxiliaries in scoring. Confess now for a
reckoning, whether in chalk or writing, ben't he your only man?
Flint. Why the serjeant is a scholar to be sure, and has the gift of
reading.
_Trounce_: Good soldiers, and fellow-gentlemen, if you make me your
spokesman, you will show the more judgment; and let me alone for the
argument. I'll be as loud as a drum, and point blank from the purpose.
All. Agreed, agreed.
Flint. Oh, faith! here comes the lieutenant.--Now, Serjeant.
Trounce. So then, to order.--Put on your mutiny looks; every man
grumble a little to himself, and some of you hum the Deserter's March.
Enter LIEUTENANT O'CONNOR.
_O'Con_. Well, honest lads, what is it you have to complain of?
Sol. Ahem! hem!
Trounce. So please your honour, the very grievance of the matter is
this:--ever since your honour differed with justice Credulous, our
inn-keepers use us most scurvily. By my halbert, their treatment is such,
that if your spirit was willing to put up with it, flesh and blood could by

no means agree; so we humbly petition that your honour would make
an end of the matter at once, by running away with the justice's
daughter, or else get us fresh quarters,--hem! hem!
_O'Con_. Indeed! Pray which of the houses use you ill?
1 Sol. There's the Red Lion an't half the civility of the old Red Lion.
2 Sol. There's the White Horse, if he wasn't case-hardened, ought to be
ashamed to show his face.
_O'Con_. Very well; the Horse and the Lion shall answer for it at the
quarter sessions.
Trounce. The two Magpies are civil enough; but the Angel uses us like
devils, and the Rising Sun refuses us light to go to bed by.
_O'Con_. Then, upon my word, I'll have the Rising Sun put down, and
the Angel shall give security for his good behaviour; but are you sure
you do nothing to quit scores with them?
Flint. Nothing at all, your honour, unless now