MS Buffalo V.A.6 7, 8 Draft details

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(U84 1008-1014)

There entered one of the clan of the O'Molloy's a comely hero, of white face but withal somewhat ruddy, his majesty's counsel learned in the law: and with him the prince and heir of the noble house of Lambert.

— Hello, Ned.

— Hello, Alf

— Hello, Jack

— Hello, Bob

(U84 1084-1140)

— How did that swindle case go off? Were you round there?

— Remanded |1|+without bail+|1|. Yes, I was.

Bloody jewman it was went by the name of James Wought alias Saphiro alias Spark and Spiro put an ad in the papers saying he'd give you a passage to Canada for a quid. What? Course it was a barney. Swindled them all, skivvies and badhochs from the county Meath, ay, and his own kidney too. J.J. was telling us there was an ancient Hebrew Zaretsky or something came up weeping for his goodlooking sovereign. Put on his hat to swear in the witnessbox

— Who tried the case?

— The recorder.

And on the sixteenth day of the month of the oxeyed goddess, ruler of the heavens, the daughter of the skies being then in her first quarter, the lady moon, those learned judges, dight in the garb of justice, repaired them to their halls of law. There Master Courtenay, sitting in his own chamber, gave rede and master Justice Andrews, sitting without a jury in the probate court, weighed well and pondered |1|+the claim of the first chargeant upon the property+|1| in the matter of the will propounded and last testamentary scriptory disposition of the real and personal estate of the late lamented Jacob Halliday, vintner, deceased, versus Livingstone of unsound mind and another. And to the solemn court of Green street came |1|+sir+|1| Frederick the Falconer. And then set he to administer the law of the brehons of the commission to be holden in and for the county of the city of Dublin. And there sat with him the noble sinhedrim of the twelve tribes of Erin, for each tribe one man, of the tribe of Patrick and of the tribe of Hugh and of the tribe of Owen and of the tribe of Conn and of the tribe of Oscar and of the tribe of Fergus and of the tribe of Finn and of the tribe of Dermot and of the tribe of Cormac and of the tribe of Kevin and of the tribe of Fingal and of the tribe of Ossian, there being in all twelve good men and true. And he conjured them by Him who died on rood that they should well
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and truly try and true deliverance make in the issue joined between their sovereign lord the king and the prisoner at the bar and true verdict give according to the evidence so help them God and kiss the book. And they rose in their seats, the twelve of Erin, and they sware by the name of Him Who is from everlasting that they would do His Righteousness. And straightway the minions of the law led forth from their donjon keep one whom the sleuthhounds of justice had apprehended in consequence of information received. And they shackled him hand and foot and arraigned him there and would take of him ne bail ne mainprise but preferred a charge against him. For he was a malefactor.

(U84 1096-1102)

— Poor old recorder, says Alf. You can bamboozle him up to the two eyes.

— He has a heart as big a lion, says Ned. Tell him a tale of woe about arrears of rent and a sick wife and a squad of children and, faith, he'll weep on the bench before you.

— Ay, say Alf, and if |1|+the it's a+|1| poor bugger had up by a loan society or a moneylender by herrings the bloody |+1jewman israelite+|1| is safe if the recorder doesn't clap in the dock.

(U84 129-140)

Cusack was telling Joe about the |1|+passwords of the+|1| |+1ribbonmen ribbonmen's passwords ribbonmen+|1|.

— What's your opinion of the times?

— I think the markets are on a rise.

— Foreign wars is the cause of it.

— It's the Russians wish to tyrannise

What's the age of the moon

— Really I don't know.

Then he rubs his right hand over his eye and the other fellow slides his left hand down his pocket and then the first chap puts his hand on his knee and the other fellow sticks his thumb in his breeches pocket.

— I don't see the advantage of |1|+his wearing+|1| kilts then, says Joe.

Scratch |+1your his+|1| arse quicker, says Ned.