daughter of my heart she is now.

_Honor._ Oh, mother!--for you are my mother now--and happy I am to have a
mother in you.

_Mr. Carv._ I protest it makes me almost--almost--blow my nose.

_Catty._ Why, then, you're a good cratur. But who tould you I was a vixen,
dear--plase your honour?

_Mr. Carv._ Your friend that is gone.

_Catty._ O'Blaney?

_Randal._ Frind! He never was frind to none--least of all to hisself.

_Catty._ Oh! the double-distilled villain!--he tould your honour I was a
vixen, and fond of law. Now would you believe what I'm going to till you?
he tould me of his honour--

_Mr. Carv._ Of me, his patron?

_Catty._ Of you, his patron, sir. He tould me your honour--which is a
slander, as we all here can witness, can't we? by his honour's contempt of
Pat Coxe--yet O'Blaney said you was as fond and proud of having informers
about you as a rat-catcher is of rats.

_Mr. Carv._ Mistress Catherine Rooney, and all you good people,--there is
a great deal of difference between obtaining information and encouraging
common informers.