The Fudges In England. Letter Ix. From Larry O'branigan, To His Wife Judy Poem Rhyme Scheme

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As it was but last week that I sint you a letther	A
You'll wondher dear Judy what this is about	B
And throth it's a letther myself would like betther	A
Could I manage to lave the contints of it out	B
For sure if it makes even me onaisy	C
Who takes things quiet 'twill dhrive you crazy	C
	-
Oh Judy that riverind Murthagh bad scran to him	D
That e'er I should come to've been sarvant man to him	D
Or so far demane the O'Branigan blood	E
And my Aunts the Diluvians whom not even the Flood	E
Was able to wash away clane from the earth	F
As to sarve one whose name of mere yestherday's birth	F
Can no more to a great O before it purtend	E
Than mine can to wear a great Q at its end	E
	-
But that's now all over last night I gev warnin '	-
And masth'r as he is will discharge him this mornin'	G
The thief of the world but it's no use balraggin'	G
All I know is I'd fifty times rather be draggin'	G
Ould ladies up hill to the ind of my days	C
	-
Than with Murthagh to rowl in a chaise at my aise	C
And be forced to discind thro' the same dirty ways	C
Arrah sure if I'd heerd where he last showed his phiz	C
I'd have known what a quare sort of monsthsr he is	C
For by gor 'twas at Exether Change sure enough	H
That himself and his other wild Irish showed off	I
And it's pity so 'tis that they hadn't got no man	G
Who knew the wild crathurs to act as their showman	G
Sayin' Ladies and Gintlemen plaze to take notice	C
How shlim and how shleek this black animal's coat is	C
All by raison we're towld that the natur o' the baste	E
Is to change its coat once in its lifetime at laste	E
And such objiks in our counthry not bein' common ones	C
Are bought up as this was by way of Fine Nomenons	C
In regard of its name why in throth I'm consarned	E
To differ on this point so much with the Larned	E
Who call it a 'Morthimer ' whereas the craythur	A
Is plainly a 'Murthagh ' by name and by nathur	A
	-
This is how I'd have towld them the righst of it all	J
Had I been their showman at Exether Hail	K
Not forgettin' that other great wondher of Airin	G
Of the owld bitther breed which they call Prosbetairin	G
The famed Daddy Coke who by gor I'd have shown 'em	L
As proof how such bastes may be tamed when you've thrown 'em	L
A good frindly sop of the rale Raigin Donem	L
But throth I've no laisure just now Judy dear	A
For anything barrin' our own doings here	A
And the cursin' and dammin' and thund'rin like mad	E
We Papists God help us from Murthagh have had	E
He says we're all murtherers divil a bit less	C
And that even our priests when we go to confess	C
Give us lessons in murthering and wish us success	C
	-
When axed how he daared by tongue or by pen	G
To belie in this way seven millions of men	G
Faith he said'twas all towld him by Docthor Den	G
And who the divil's he was the question that flew	M
From Chrishtian to Chrishtian but not a sowl knew	M
While on went Murthagh in iligant style	N
Blasphaming us Cath'lics all the while	N
As a pack of desaivers parjurers villains	C
All the whole kit of the aforesaid millions	C
Yourself dear Judy as well as the rest	E
And the innocent craythur that's at your breast	E
All rogues together in word and deed	E
Owld Den our insthructor and Sin our creed	E
	-
When axed for his proofs again and again	G
Divil an answer he'd give but Docthor Den	G
Couldn'the call into coort some livin' men	G
No thank you he'd stick to Docthor Den	G
An ould gintleman dead a century or two	M
Who all about us live Catholics knew	M
And of coorse was more handy to call in a hurry	A
Than Docthor MacHale or Docthor Murray	A
	-
But throth it's no case to be jokin' upon	G
Tho' myself from bad habits is makin' it one	G
Even you had you witnessed his grand climactherics	C
Which actially threw one owld maid in hysterics	C
Or och had you heerd such a purty remark as his	C
That Papists are only Humanity's carcasses	C
Risen but by dad I'm afeared I can't give it ye	A
Risen from the sepulchre of inactivity	A
And like owld corpses dug up from antikity	A
Wandrin' about in all sorts of inikity	A
Even you Judy true as you are to the Owld Light	A
Would have laught out and out at this iligant flight	A
Of that figure of speech called the Blatherumskite	A
As for me tho' a funny thought now and then came to me	A
Rage got the betther at last and small blame to me	A
So slapping my thigh by the Powers of Delf	I
Says I bowldly I'll make a noration myself	I
And with that up I jumps but my darlint the minit	A
I cockt up my head divil a sinse remained in it	A
Tho' saited I could have got beautiful on	G
When I tuk to my legs faith the gab was all gone	G
Which was odd for us Pats who whate'er we've a hand in	G
At laste in our legs show a sthrong understandin'	G
	-
Howsumdever detarmined the chaps should pursaive	I
What I thought of their doin's before I tuk lave	I
In regard of all that says I there I stopt short	A
Not a word more would come tho' I shtruggled hard for't	A
So shnapping my fingers at what's called the Chair	A
And the owld Lord or Lady I believe that sat there	A
In regard of all that says I bowldly again	G
To owld Nick I pitch Mortimer and Docthor Den	G
Upon which the whole company cried out Amen	G
And myself was in hopes 'twas to what I had said	A
But by gor no such thing they were not so well bred	A
For 'twas all to a prayer Murthagh just had read out	A
By way of fit finish to job so devout	A
That is afther well damning one half the community	A
To pray God to keep all in pace an' in unity	A
	-
This is all I can shtuff in this letter tho' plinty	A
Of news faith I've got to fill more if 'twas twinty	A
But I'll add on the outside a line should I need it	A
Writin' Private upon it that no one may read it	A
To tell you how Mortimer as the Saints chrishten him	L
Bears the big shame of his sarvant's dismisshin' him	L
	-
Private outside	A
	-
Just come from his riv'rence the job is all done	G
By the powers I've discharged him as sure as a gun	G
And now Judy dear what on earth I'm to do	A
With myself and my appetite both good as new	A
Without even a single traneen in my pocket	A
Let alone a good dacent pound starlin' to stock it	A
Is a mysht'ry I lave to the One that's above	I
Who takes care of us dissolute sawls when hard dhrove	I

Thomas Moore

The Fudges In England. Letter Ix. From Larry O'branigan, To His Wife Judy Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

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