The Luck of the Irish Page #3

- was a glass of milk.

- Milk?

Good night, Mr. Fitzgerald.

Good night, Taedy.

Let me go, you bosthoon,

or I'll parch your bones with fever.

- No, you don't. I've got you.

- Take your hands off me!

Not until you've showed me

your pot of gold.

What would a poor, simple old man like me

be doing with a pot of gold?

None of that. I'm ready for your lies.

Of course you've got a pot of gold.

No right-minded leprechaun

would be caught without one.

Oh, who's been telling you

such stories?

- Ah, your friend Taedy.

- Taedy?

- He put you up to this trick, eh?

- Ah, the biggest liar in all County Clare.

That may be true, but we're gonna

play this game according to the rules.

Come on now.

Where's the gold? The gold.

Oh. Not so fast, my friend.

- Let me go, you omadhaun.

- Come on. The gold. Where is it?

- I'm telling you, I have no gold!

- Where is it?

- I mean business.

- Where is it, you say?

- Yes, where is it?

- Why don't you take a little look under the waterfall yonder?

Oh, no, you don't.

Oh, no, you don't.

Ah. I've been warned to your tricks.

Where is it?

I don't- I don't know.

- Where is it?

- I don't know.

Oh, isn't that the thornbush?

Right under your very nose.

That's right. It's always buried, isn't it?

Uh-huh. Huh? Dig.

- Eh?

- Come on. Come on. Dig.

Oh.

Come on. Hurry up, man.

'Tis a cruel, wicked thing

you're making me do.

Well, you certainly do it up brown.

Props and everything.

Well, I'll be.

They're real.

Real indeed.

They're a lifetime savings.

Several lifetimes,

as you reckon things.

They are real.

I don't know who you are or what

sort of a game you're trying to play.

- Did you steal these?

- I never stole anything in me life...

except what was rightly mine.

That's one thing we have in common.

Here. Take this back.

But I don't understand you, sir.

You didn't really think I'd steal

your savings, or whatever they are.

Here.

You wouldn't be playing tricks

on a poor old man, would you?

No. I'll leave

the tricks to you. Here.

Take it back.

Bury it again.

Go on. Bury it now.

You give it back to me?

You give it back?

Fitzgerald, I'll never

forget you for this.

You've earned my undying

- my undying gratitude.

Here. Take-Take this little bit of a

keepsake to remind you of our meeting.

- No, no. L-

- Yes, yes, yes. Take it. Take it.

Thank you.

No thanks are necessary. It is I that am

thanking you from the bottom of my heart.

All the luck in the world to you.

Mr. Stephen Fitzgerald...

you have a way of twisting things

in the most perplexing manner.

It is I that am saying

"all the luck in the world" to you.

So, sir, good-bye...

and good luck to you.

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