Bulls
In a speech on the threatened French invasion into Ireland, made, like the rest, in the Irish House of Commons, Sir Boyle Roche said—
“Mr. Speaker, if we once permitted the villainous French masons to meddle with the buttresses and walls of our ancient constitution, they would never stop nor stay, sir, till they brought the foundation-stones tumbling down about the ears of the nation.... Here, perhaps, sirs, the murderous Marshellaw men (Marseillais) would break in, cut us to mincemeat, and throw our bleeding heads upon that table, to stare us in the face.”
When a member had committed a breach of privilege, and the sergeant-at-arms was censured for letting him escape, he said—
“How could the sergeant-at-arms stop him in the rear, while he was catching him in the front? Could he, like a bird, be in two places at once?”
In opposing a proposed grant for some public works, he said—
“What, Mr. Speaker, and so we are to beggar ourselves for the fear of vexing posterity? Now, I would ask the honourable gentleman, and this still more honourable house, why we should put ourselves out of our way to do anything for posterity; for what has posterity done for us! (Laughter.) I apprehend gentlemen have entirely mistaken my words. I assure the house that by posterity I do not mean my ancestors, but those who are to come immediately after them.”
Sir Boyle Roche (1740?—1807).
THE MONKS OF THE SCREW.
When St. Patrick this order established,
He called us the “Monks of the Screw”;
Good rules he revealed to our abbot
To guide us in what we should do.
But first he replenished our fountain
With liquor the best from on high;
And he said, on the word of a saint,
That the fountain should never run dry.
Each year, when your octaves approach,
In full chapter convened let me find you;
And when to the convent you come,
Leave your favourite temptation behind you.
And be not a glass in your convent—
Unless on a festival—found;
And, this rule to enforce, I ordain it
One festival all the year round.
My brethren, be chaste—till you’re tempted;
While sober, be grave and discreet;
And humble your bodies with fasting,
As oft as you’ve nothing to eat.
Yet, in honour of fasting, one lean face
Among you I’d always require;
If the abbot should please, he may wear it,
If not, let it come to the prior.
Come, let each take his chalice, my brethren,
And with due devotion, prepare,
With hands and with voices uplifted,
Our hymn to conclude with a prayer.
May this chapter oft joyously meet,
And this gladsome libation renew,
To the saint, and the founder, and abbot,
And prior, and Monks of the Screw.
John Philpot Curran (1750–1817).