The Pamphlet Collection of Sir Robert Stout: Volume 2
The Royal Korero
The Royal Korero.
May 16th, 1878.
I promised ye an ipic pome in me last, but be the hokey I'm so complaitely knock'd up afther me tower, that I can't bring me idays into the realms o' the chaste nine. Av course ye've read the report o' the korero in the daily papers, so I'll not throuble ye wid a ray capitulation of the procaidins. But I'll just lift the vail from a little private taty-tate (Frinch) that I had wid his Majesty afther Sir George had retired for the night. We wur saited in the Palace, be a cosy fire, mesilf an' the monarch—and be the same token his Majesty's throne on the occasion was a J D K Z gin case—just takin' a quiet dhrop o' the craythur together, an' talkin' over ould times, when bis Majesty turned the conversashun on to the lost thribe o' Israel. I'll thranslate the discoorse for ye as nearly as me mimry sarves me. Afther his Majesty had swallowed his ninth tumbler o' punch, from a pannikin, he dhrew his throne close to me, an' says he, "D'ye know what it is, Paddy? Iver since I've read that lecture o' Misther Rees's in the Tay Wanangy (that's our Maori newspaper) on 'The Lost Thribes o' Israel, I feel convinced that the Maoris are a branch o' the thribe o' Dan, that landed in the Ould Sod ages ago," ses he. "My word to ye, O frind," ses he, "we're closely related," ses he. "Arrah! yer Majesty is only jokin'," ses I. "Sure, ye'd niver think of couplin, sich haythin naygurs as the Maoris wid the anshint hayros that landed in Ireland wid the Profit Jerry-mia!" ses I. "Musha! faith, thin, I would," ses the King; "an' why not? "ses he. "Maybe ye think bekaise I dhress up in the simple kostchume av the primitive nobility that I'm not varsed in anshint histhry," ses he; "but don't be deludin' yer-self wid that notion, avick machree, for I can tell ye, me bould bouchil, that I know more about crownology thin some o' yer grand professors," ses he. Begorra, I noticed that his Majesty's timper was getting up, an' he began to look hungry, so I thought it betther to humor him a little wid the taste taste av the blarney, so I ses to him, "Och blur-an-ouuthers, does yer Majesty suppose for one instant that I'd daar to doubt yer royal wurd?" ses I. That calmed him down, so he ses in a milder voice," Now Paddy, asthore, greetings to thee, O frind, Paddy, d'ye imagine that I'd have been so polite an' curchus to Sir George, av it wasn't for your sake?" "Be no manner o' mains," ses he. "I know that yerself an' meself are related, and I'll explain it to ye," says he. " Be dad, yer Majesty, I'm proud o' the family connec- page 28 tion, but it's too much honor intirely," ses I." Not a taste too much," ses the King, "an' I'll explain in a few words, how, although ye're a Pakeyha, your thribe and mine is related. Now, in the first place the aushint Irish wur called the Malay-shins, that proves thim to be of Malay origin. Well, sure, every one knows that the Maoris are Malays too. Thin there's the O'Malays an' the Molloys, which is only a corruption. Thin agin, there's that grate hayro, that Tom Moore sings about, whin he ses:—
"Whin Malay-kee wore the collar o' goold"
Av coorse he was a Malay too. Thin there's the national name Pa-thrick; an sure ivery one knows that it refers to a game o' forty-fives played by two av our mutual ancesthors in an anshint Pa, when the Irish King brought his five-fingers down on the Maori King's ace, an made a jink o' the game. But the strhongest av all is the fact av our family names beein the same. Sure ye know, allanah, that me royal sire's name was Potaty, and whats a Potaty but a Murphy? Tell me that—d'ye mind me, now?" An' his majisty fell on me busum an sobbed wid fraternil imotion till he woke Sir George, who was sleepin on some bags o' praties in the corner. The scene that followed is more aisily imagined thin described. Sir George was delighted wid the sarcumstance, an if we didn't kick up the divil's own ructions till mornin', ye can call me a Dutchman. Betune you an me it was this little ipisode that settled the Native question; an Sir George may thank me for the successful termination o' the korero. I've left Sir George at Kawau, as I'd to come to the ould woman—she felt so lonely widout me.