plays [21]
pardon and fifty shiners down.
SMITH. A free pardon, Jerry?
HUNT. Don't I tell you so?
SMITH. And fifty down? fifty?
HUNT. On the nail.
SMITH. So you came a cropper with her, and then you tried it on
with me?
HUNT. I suppose you mean you're a born idiot?
SMITH. What I mean is, Jerry, that you've broke my heart. I
used to look up to you like a party might to Julius Caesar. One
more of boyhood's dreams gone pop. (ENTER MOORE, L.)
HUNT (TO BOTH). Come, then, I'll take the pair, and be damned to
you. Free pardon to both, fifty down and the Deacon out of the
way. I don't care for you commoners, it's the Deacon I want.
JEAN (LOOKING OFF STOLIDLY). I think the kirks are scalin'.
There seems to be mair people in the streets.
HUNT. O that's the way, is it? Do you know that I can hang you,
my woman, and your fancy man a well?
JEAN. I daur say ye would like fine, Mr. Hunt; and here's my
service to you. (GOING.)
HUNT. George, don't you be a tomfool, anyway. Think of the
blowen here, and have brains for two.
SMITH (GOING). Ah, Jerry, if you knew anything, how different
you would talk! (THEY GO TOGETHER, R.)
SCENE III
HUNT, MOORE
HUNT. Half a tick, Badger. You're a man of parts, you are;
you're solid, you're a true-born Englishman; you ain't a
Jerry-go-Nimble like him. Do you know what your pal the Deacon's
worth to you? Fifty golden Georges and a free pardon. No
questions asked, and no receipts demanded. What do you say? Is
it a deal?
MOORE (AS TO HIMSELF). Muck. (HE GOES OUT, R.)
SCENE IV
HUNT, TO WHOM AINSLIE
HUNT (LOOKING AFTER THEM RUEFULLY). And these were the very
parties I was looking for! [Ah, Jerry, Jerry, if they knew this
at the office!] Well, the market price of that 'ere two hundred
is a trifle on the decline and fall. (LOOKING L.) Hullo!
(SLAPPING HIS THIGH). Send me victorious! It's king's evidence
on two legs. (ADVANCING WITH GREAT CORDIALITY TO MEET AINSLIE,
WHO ENTERS L.) And so your name's Andrew Ainslie, is it? As I
was saying, you're the very party I was looking for. Ain't it
strange, now, that I should have dropped across you comfortable
and promiscuous like this?
AINSLIE. I dinna ken wha ye are, an' I'm ill for my bed.
HUNT. Let your bed wait, Andrew. I want a little chat with you;
just a quiet little sociable wheeze. Just about our friends, you
know. About Badger Moore, and George the Dook, and Jemmy Rivers,
and Deacon Brodie, Andrew. Particularly Deacon Brodie.
AINSLIE. They're nae friens o' mine's, mister. I ken naething
an' naebody. An' noo I'll get to my bed, wulln't I?
HUNT. We're going to have our little talk out first. After that
perhaps I'll let you go, and perhaps I won't. It all depends on
how we get along together. Now, in a general way, Andrew, and
speaking of a man as you find him, I'm all for peace and
quietness myself. That's my usual game, Andrew, but when I do
make a dust I'm considered by my friends to be rather a good hand
at it. So don't you tread upon the worm.
AINSLIE. But I'm sayin' -
HUNT. You leave that to me, Andrew. You shall do your pitch
presently. I'm first on the ground, and I lead off. With a
question, Andrew. Did you ever hear in your life of such a
natural curiosity as a Bow Street Runner?
AINSLIE. Aiblins ay an' aiblins no.
HUNT. 'Aiblins ay and aiblins no.' Very good indeed, Andrew.
Now, I'll ask you another. Did you ever see a Bow Street Runner,
Andrew? With the naked eye, so to speak?
AINSLIE. What's your wull?
HUNT. Artful bird! Now since we're getting on so cosy AND so
free, I'll ask you another, Andrew. Should you like to see a Bow
Street Runner? (PRODUCING STAFF.) 'Cos, if so, you've only got
to cast your eyes on me. Do you queer the red weskit, Andrew?
Pretty colour, ain't it? So nice and warm for the winter too.
(AINSLIE DIVES, HUNT COLLARS HIM.) No, you don't. Not this
time. Run away like that before we've finished our little
conversation?
SMITH. A free pardon, Jerry?
HUNT. Don't I tell you so?
SMITH. And fifty down? fifty?
HUNT. On the nail.
SMITH. So you came a cropper with her, and then you tried it on
with me?
HUNT. I suppose you mean you're a born idiot?
SMITH. What I mean is, Jerry, that you've broke my heart. I
used to look up to you like a party might to Julius Caesar. One
more of boyhood's dreams gone pop. (ENTER MOORE, L.)
HUNT (TO BOTH). Come, then, I'll take the pair, and be damned to
you. Free pardon to both, fifty down and the Deacon out of the
way. I don't care for you commoners, it's the Deacon I want.
JEAN (LOOKING OFF STOLIDLY). I think the kirks are scalin'.
There seems to be mair people in the streets.
HUNT. O that's the way, is it? Do you know that I can hang you,
my woman, and your fancy man a well?
JEAN. I daur say ye would like fine, Mr. Hunt; and here's my
service to you. (GOING.)
HUNT. George, don't you be a tomfool, anyway. Think of the
blowen here, and have brains for two.
SMITH (GOING). Ah, Jerry, if you knew anything, how different
you would talk! (THEY GO TOGETHER, R.)
SCENE III
HUNT, MOORE
HUNT. Half a tick, Badger. You're a man of parts, you are;
you're solid, you're a true-born Englishman; you ain't a
Jerry-go-Nimble like him. Do you know what your pal the Deacon's
worth to you? Fifty golden Georges and a free pardon. No
questions asked, and no receipts demanded. What do you say? Is
it a deal?
MOORE (AS TO HIMSELF). Muck. (HE GOES OUT, R.)
SCENE IV
HUNT, TO WHOM AINSLIE
HUNT (LOOKING AFTER THEM RUEFULLY). And these were the very
parties I was looking for! [Ah, Jerry, Jerry, if they knew this
at the office!] Well, the market price of that 'ere two hundred
is a trifle on the decline and fall. (LOOKING L.) Hullo!
(SLAPPING HIS THIGH). Send me victorious! It's king's evidence
on two legs. (ADVANCING WITH GREAT CORDIALITY TO MEET AINSLIE,
WHO ENTERS L.) And so your name's Andrew Ainslie, is it? As I
was saying, you're the very party I was looking for. Ain't it
strange, now, that I should have dropped across you comfortable
and promiscuous like this?
AINSLIE. I dinna ken wha ye are, an' I'm ill for my bed.
HUNT. Let your bed wait, Andrew. I want a little chat with you;
just a quiet little sociable wheeze. Just about our friends, you
know. About Badger Moore, and George the Dook, and Jemmy Rivers,
and Deacon Brodie, Andrew. Particularly Deacon Brodie.
AINSLIE. They're nae friens o' mine's, mister. I ken naething
an' naebody. An' noo I'll get to my bed, wulln't I?
HUNT. We're going to have our little talk out first. After that
perhaps I'll let you go, and perhaps I won't. It all depends on
how we get along together. Now, in a general way, Andrew, and
speaking of a man as you find him, I'm all for peace and
quietness myself. That's my usual game, Andrew, but when I do
make a dust I'm considered by my friends to be rather a good hand
at it. So don't you tread upon the worm.
AINSLIE. But I'm sayin' -
HUNT. You leave that to me, Andrew. You shall do your pitch
presently. I'm first on the ground, and I lead off. With a
question, Andrew. Did you ever hear in your life of such a
natural curiosity as a Bow Street Runner?
AINSLIE. Aiblins ay an' aiblins no.
HUNT. 'Aiblins ay and aiblins no.' Very good indeed, Andrew.
Now, I'll ask you another. Did you ever see a Bow Street Runner,
Andrew? With the naked eye, so to speak?
AINSLIE. What's your wull?
HUNT. Artful bird! Now since we're getting on so cosy AND so
free, I'll ask you another, Andrew. Should you like to see a Bow
Street Runner? (PRODUCING STAFF.) 'Cos, if so, you've only got
to cast your eyes on me. Do you queer the red weskit, Andrew?
Pretty colour, ain't it? So nice and warm for the winter too.
(AINSLIE DIVES, HUNT COLLARS HIM.) No, you don't. Not this
time. Run away like that before we've finished our little
conversation?