Then the dame was asked next, If she aught had to say; She look'd sad, much perplexed, And her head turned away As she said, "On my word, Till to-day I ne'er saw, No, nor even have heard Of this maiden before. Still it seems very plain She was first in the field; So her rights she shall gain, For all claims I now yield. She has loved him, it seems, all her life pretty nigh, So I'm sure she deserves him far better than I, Who all hope--yea, the wish--now for ever resign Of beholding young Murphy a bridegroom of mine. Unless (and she here had a slight tickling cough), Your rev'rence think right I should keep to my troth."
"Please to stop," said the priest; "this is pretty, no doubt; Still when Justice begins she must have her say out. We have well scanned the subject on every side, But have not yet decreed which by law is the bride; Though, as some great philosopher wisely observed, 'They who come up the first ought to be the first served.' While the difference of ages compels me to fear, That a storm will arise ere the close of the year; For of course the old lady must have her own way, As 'age before honesty goes,' the folks say. It is true she may not get the like chance again; But she's had her turn once, so must patient remain. Unless that the jury, when packed, shall think best To remake her a wife, and deny her request."
Then the jurors were chose, But so plainly he shows How the guests cannot impartial be, That such aid they refuse, And the number out choose From eyes that unprejudiced see. Who like peers soon pair out, To consider about In whose favour they ought to agree. Now what thrilling suspense! (To poor Joan how intense!) To the rest in a lesser degree.-- All but Murphy, who ne'er Seemed to have the least care What Fate or what Justice decree. But the Jury return, and the maid droops her head, While her fair bosom heaves with a feeling of dread; As nigh breathless she listens the verdict to hear, Which shall fill her with transports of pleasure or fear. "And pray what's your decision?" the Abbot inquired; In the tones of a pig who has, murdered, expired. "Have you settled the point who the fair bride's to be? They seem terribly anxious to hear your decree." Then a very tall man with a very sharp nose, All their wisdom united and cleverness shows, "'Tis the young one, we think, is by justice the bride, So we deem it our duty on her to decide." Then again a loud shout Ran the chamber throughout, While the maiden had fainted with bliss Had not Murphy arose, Who both arms round her throws, And revives her at once with a kiss; And whispers that once he but loved as a brother, But now is most anxious to love as some other.