Darby O'Gill and the Little People Page #5
- APPROVED
- Year:
- 1959
- 93 min
- 1,252 Views
# She is my dear
my darlin' one
# My smilin' and beguilin' one
# I love the ground she walks upon
I called you when your food
was ready,
but you were makin' so much noise,
you couldn't hear me.
Faith, I know I can't sing a lick,
but when I'm roarin' like Doran's bull,
it works up a killin' hunger in me.
What have we got here?
Bread newly baked,
butter fresh from the churn,
and boiled eggs and ham.
Well, now, aren't you the clever girl?
You have enough here
to feed the parish.
I thought you'd be hungry.
-I hope the bread has cooled.
-Oh, I like it hot.
Mle murder! Did no one ever tell
you the hazard of hot bread?
No, they didn't, ah...
Sure you can see I need someone
to watch over me.
Did your father say anything
He said he would be back
by sundown.
Nothin' about me?
-He said you were a good lad.
-That's all?
-Isn't that enough?
-I suppose it is.
Tell me, Katie,
do you think I'm a good lad?
I very greatly doubt it.
Aye, you look fine, Darby!
Hey, all right!
It's a grand bell.
You've done a great deed.
Thank you, Father.
Thank you, Father.
Darby!
-What have you got in the bag?
-Well, uh, Father,
it would be a hard thing to explain.
Oh, now, you could try.
Well, like, it's a kind of financial
venture, you might say.
A financial venture that you'd be
afraid to tell your priest about?
Oh, no, no, no.
Sure I'm on the side of the angels,
against the powers of darkness.
What would you say,
Father, if I told you
I captured the king
of the little people?
I'd say you had imagined it.
Ha-ha. Then I've nothin' at all
in the bag here, Reverend.
Nothin' at all.
Glory be to the saints of joy.
This is a great day for Rathcullen.
You've certainly earned
a glass of stout, Darby.
Aye, it's dry work cartin' a bell.
May we all live to see...
-Would a toast be a kind of wish?
-It would.
Oh, well, then, devil a toast
will I drink this day.
What's in there?
king of all the leprechauns.
One wish I wished already,
but I'm not lettin' him out of this bag
until I've wished the other two.
What does he look like, Darby?
Ah, just a teeny-weeny tawny little
atom-y kind of gentleman
with a beard on his face
and a crown like a fistful
of horns on his head.
Let's have a look at him, Darby.
Let's have a look
at the little gentleman.
Oh, never mind, then.
Sure it's only
Lady Fitzpatrick's prize hen,
the one they gave
the red ribbon to at the fair.
Fill the little pannikin, 20 year old,
the best in the house.
I will, Darby.
Thank you.
Here you are, Your Majesty.
-Did you see that?
-I saw it with me own two eyes.
Give me the glass, Tom.
That's a story will bear repeatin'.
And if any man doubts the truth of it,
there's the very same glass.
# Bum-ba-dum-ba-da-da-dee-dee
# Da-dum-ba-da-da-da-dun
# When the dew is on the hayrick
# And every drop a pearl
# When the geese are full of blarney
# And the thrush is singing Gaelic
# And standing in the doorway
# Is a pretty Irish Girl
# Oh. She is my dear
my darling one
# Her eyes so sparkling
full of fun
# No other. No other
# She is my dear
my darling one
# My smilin' and beguilin' one
# I love the ground
she walks upon...
-Now, where did you hear that?
-Michael was singin' it.
# My pretty Irish Girl
-Where are you off to?
-To a dance.
With Michael?
No. Michael's goin'
your rounds for you.
He is?
Why'd he do that?
Well, he said you were
worried about the poachers.
If I hurry, I'll catch up with him.
-Ah, the devil take you!
-Darby!
What ails you, lad?
Is it blind you are?
I am indeed. Sure when I saw man
running in the dark
with a game bag in his hand,
wasn't I the foolish one
to mistake him for a poacher?
By the hokey, it did look bad.
Will you forgive me?
Faith, a stepmother
wouldn't blame ye.
No harm done.
I'm sorry, but I promised his lordship
there'd be no poaching,
and I can't make an exception,
not even for you,
-so you'll have to let the rabbit go.
-Rabbit indeed.
I didn't intend to show him yet,
but you've been a nice fella.
I'll give you the first look.
Bring him over here. Come on.
Get ready for the grand surprise.
It's no rabbit.
-Rabbit or hare, what's the odds?
-Rabbit or hare?
You're lookin' at Brian
of Knocknasheega,
-king of all the leprechauns.
-'Twas a rabbit I saw.
Have another look.
It's still a rabbit.
-Try closin' one eye.
-Closing one eye?
Ah, you've had a hard day today,
and a hard night last night.
Now, why don't you go home to bed
and get a good rest?
How could I rest,
and you thinkin' I'm a poacher?
They take different shapes,
you know?
So I hear.
Aye, you ought to see him
with his little gold crown
and his red beard
and his two eyes leapin'
from his head like flames.
-I wish you could see him.
-Granted.
And that's your second wish.
Why, you tricky, deceivin',
connivin', double-dealin',
-high-handed...
-Oh, wirra, wirra, wirra.
That's what comes of a man
not yet threescore and 10
matchin' his wits against an
intellectual gladiator 5,000 years old.
Well, I still have me third wish left,
not all wasted.
Now, go on.
But I am visible to him.
and see me he does.
-He sees me as a rabbit.
-You're a cheat and you're a liar.
-Don't tell me you can't hear him.
-I'm afraid I can't.
What's the world comin' to?
I could have knocked a crock of gold
out of this old chancer
with that second wish,
but I gave it all up for a man who
can neither hear nor see.
Darby, he can see me
as I really am...
in his dreams tonight.
You can see him tonight
in your dreams.
Are you sure?
I am.
He promised me.
Ah, the last reel was the best one.
You know, Katie,
you're so light on your feet,
you could tread on cobwebs
without breaking them.
-Thank you, Sean.
-May I take you home now?
No need to trouble yourself.
Katie can ride home with me.
-I think it...
-Can't she?
That'll be grand, Pony.
-Good night, Sean.
-Good night, Katie.
Come on. Hup! Hup!
Thank you for the ride.
Good night, Pony.
Have you no pride, ridin' home
with the like of that?
He was only bein' civil to me,
and I was no more than civil to him.
Well, you'd better forget
about him altogether.
Well, maybe I will...
when me father stops
spyin' on me at windows.
Oh, tare and ages!
Isn't that a nice way
for a girl to talk to her father?
And she me one and only.
She's a fine girl, Katie,
but she's in mortal danger.
-How do you mean that?
-'Tis you,
the way you're dillydallyin'
with your wishes.
Phadrig Oge, he's me lieutenant.
He'll stop at nothin'
till he gets me back.
He might even put
the come-hither on Katie,
so's you'd have to
wish her free again.
If he lays a finger on Katie,
I'll kill you dead
and murder you entirely.
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