plays [13]
know what you do? Do you know what you risk?
[Is there nothing - nothing! - will make you spare me this
idiotic, wanton prosecution?]
JEAN. I was wrong to come yestreen; I ken that fine. But the
day it's different; I but to come the day, Deacon, though I ken
fine it's the Sabbath, and I think shame to be seen upon the
streets.
BRODIE. See here, Jean. You must go now. I come to you
to-night; I swear that. But now I'm for the road.
JEAN. No till you've heard me, William Brodie. Do ye think I
came to pleasure mysel', where I'm no wanted? I've a pride o' my
ains.
BRODIE. Jean, I am going now. If you please to stay on alone,
in this house of mine, where I wish I could say you are welcome,
stay (GOING).
JEAN. It's the man frae Bow Street.
BRODIE. Bow Street?
JEAN. I thocht ye would hear me. Ye think little o' me; but
it's mebbe a braw thing for you that I think sae muckle o'
William Brodie . . . ill as it sets me.
BRODIE. [You don't know what is on my mind, Jeannie, else you
would forgive me.] Bow Street?
JEAN. It's the man Hunt: him that was here yestreen for the
Fiscal.
BRODIE. Hunt?
JEAN. He kens a hantle. He . . . Ye maunna be angered wi' me,
Wullie! I said what I shouldna.
BRODIE. Said? Said what?
JEAN. Just that ye were a guid frien' to me. He made believe he
was awful sorry for me, because ye gied me nae siller; and I
said, 'Wha tellt him that?' and that he lee'd.
BRODIE. God knows he did! What next?
JEAN. He was that soft-spoken, butter wouldna melt in his mouth;
and he keept aye harp, harpin'; but after that let out, he got
neither black nor white frae me. Just that ae word and nae mair;
and at the hinder end he just speired straucht out, whaur it was
ye got your siller frae.
BRODIE. Where I got my siller?
JEAN. Ay, that was it! 'You ken,' says he.
BRODIE. Did he? and what said you?
JEAN. I couldna think on naething, but just that he was a gey
and clever gentleman.
BRODIE. You should have said I was in trade, and had a good
business. That's what you should have said. That's what you
would have said had you been worth your salt. But it's blunder,
blunder, outside and in [upstairs, downstairs, and in my lady's
chamber]. You women! Did he see Smith?
JEAN. Ay, and kennt him.
BRODIE. Damnation! - No, I'm not angry with you. But you see
what I've to endure for you. Don't cry. [Here's the devil at
the door, and we must bar him out as best we can.]
JEAN. God's truth, ye are nae vexed wi' me?
BRODIE. God's truth, I am grateful to you. How is the child?
Well? That's right. (PEEPING.) Poor wee laddie! He's like
you, Jean.
JEAN. I aye thocht he was liker you.
BRODIE. Is he? Perhaps he is. Ah, Jeannie, you must see and
make him a better man than his father.
JEAN. Eh man, Deacon, the proud wumman I'll be gin he's only
half sae guid.
BRODIE. Well, well, if I win through this, we'll see what we can
do for him between us. (LEADING HER OUT, C.) And now, go - go -
go.
LAWSON (WITHOUT, L.). I ken the way, I ken the way.
JEAN (STARRING TO DOOR). It's the Fiscal; I'm awa. (BRODIE,
L.).
SCENE III
To these, LAWSON, L.
LAWSON. A braw day this, William. (SEEING JEAN.) Eh Mistress
Watt? And what'll have brocht you here?
BRODIE (SEATED ON BENCH). Something, uncle, she lost last night,
and she thinks that something she lost is here. VOILA.
LAWSON. Why are ye no at the kirk, woman? Do ye gang to the
kirk?
JEAN. I'm mebbe no what ye would just ca' reg'lar. Ye see,
Fiscal, it's the wean.
LAWSON. A bairn's an excuse; I ken that fine, Mistress Watt.
But bairn or nane, my woman, ye should be at the kirk. Awa wi'
ye! Hear to the bells; they're ringing in. (JEAN CURTSIES TO
BOTH, AND GOES OUT C. THE BELLS WHICH HAVE BEEN RINGING QUICKER,
CEASE.)
SCENE IV
LAWSON (TO BRODIE, RETURNING C. FROM DOOR). MULIER FORMOSA
SUPERNE, William: a braw lass, and a decent woman forbye.
BRODIE. I'm no judge, Procurator,
[Is there nothing - nothing! - will make you spare me this
idiotic, wanton prosecution?]
JEAN. I was wrong to come yestreen; I ken that fine. But the
day it's different; I but to come the day, Deacon, though I ken
fine it's the Sabbath, and I think shame to be seen upon the
streets.
BRODIE. See here, Jean. You must go now. I come to you
to-night; I swear that. But now I'm for the road.
JEAN. No till you've heard me, William Brodie. Do ye think I
came to pleasure mysel', where I'm no wanted? I've a pride o' my
ains.
BRODIE. Jean, I am going now. If you please to stay on alone,
in this house of mine, where I wish I could say you are welcome,
stay (GOING).
JEAN. It's the man frae Bow Street.
BRODIE. Bow Street?
JEAN. I thocht ye would hear me. Ye think little o' me; but
it's mebbe a braw thing for you that I think sae muckle o'
William Brodie . . . ill as it sets me.
BRODIE. [You don't know what is on my mind, Jeannie, else you
would forgive me.] Bow Street?
JEAN. It's the man Hunt: him that was here yestreen for the
Fiscal.
BRODIE. Hunt?
JEAN. He kens a hantle. He . . . Ye maunna be angered wi' me,
Wullie! I said what I shouldna.
BRODIE. Said? Said what?
JEAN. Just that ye were a guid frien' to me. He made believe he
was awful sorry for me, because ye gied me nae siller; and I
said, 'Wha tellt him that?' and that he lee'd.
BRODIE. God knows he did! What next?
JEAN. He was that soft-spoken, butter wouldna melt in his mouth;
and he keept aye harp, harpin'; but after that let out, he got
neither black nor white frae me. Just that ae word and nae mair;
and at the hinder end he just speired straucht out, whaur it was
ye got your siller frae.
BRODIE. Where I got my siller?
JEAN. Ay, that was it! 'You ken,' says he.
BRODIE. Did he? and what said you?
JEAN. I couldna think on naething, but just that he was a gey
and clever gentleman.
BRODIE. You should have said I was in trade, and had a good
business. That's what you should have said. That's what you
would have said had you been worth your salt. But it's blunder,
blunder, outside and in [upstairs, downstairs, and in my lady's
chamber]. You women! Did he see Smith?
JEAN. Ay, and kennt him.
BRODIE. Damnation! - No, I'm not angry with you. But you see
what I've to endure for you. Don't cry. [Here's the devil at
the door, and we must bar him out as best we can.]
JEAN. God's truth, ye are nae vexed wi' me?
BRODIE. God's truth, I am grateful to you. How is the child?
Well? That's right. (PEEPING.) Poor wee laddie! He's like
you, Jean.
JEAN. I aye thocht he was liker you.
BRODIE. Is he? Perhaps he is. Ah, Jeannie, you must see and
make him a better man than his father.
JEAN. Eh man, Deacon, the proud wumman I'll be gin he's only
half sae guid.
BRODIE. Well, well, if I win through this, we'll see what we can
do for him between us. (LEADING HER OUT, C.) And now, go - go -
go.
LAWSON (WITHOUT, L.). I ken the way, I ken the way.
JEAN (STARRING TO DOOR). It's the Fiscal; I'm awa. (BRODIE,
L.).
SCENE III
To these, LAWSON, L.
LAWSON. A braw day this, William. (SEEING JEAN.) Eh Mistress
Watt? And what'll have brocht you here?
BRODIE (SEATED ON BENCH). Something, uncle, she lost last night,
and she thinks that something she lost is here. VOILA.
LAWSON. Why are ye no at the kirk, woman? Do ye gang to the
kirk?
JEAN. I'm mebbe no what ye would just ca' reg'lar. Ye see,
Fiscal, it's the wean.
LAWSON. A bairn's an excuse; I ken that fine, Mistress Watt.
But bairn or nane, my woman, ye should be at the kirk. Awa wi'
ye! Hear to the bells; they're ringing in. (JEAN CURTSIES TO
BOTH, AND GOES OUT C. THE BELLS WHICH HAVE BEEN RINGING QUICKER,
CEASE.)
SCENE IV
LAWSON (TO BRODIE, RETURNING C. FROM DOOR). MULIER FORMOSA
SUPERNE, William: a braw lass, and a decent woman forbye.
BRODIE. I'm no judge, Procurator,