plays [22]
You're a nice young man, you are. Suppose we
introduce our wrists into these here darbies? Now we shall get
along cosier and freer than ever. Want to lie down, do you? All
right! anything to oblige.
AINSLIE (GROVELLING). It wasna me, it wasna me. It's bad
companions; I've been lost wi' bad companions an' the drink. An'
O mister, ye'll be a kind gentleman to a puir lad, an' me sae
weak, an' fair rotten wi' the drink an' that. Ye've a bonnie
kind heart, my dear, dear gentleman; ye wadna hang sitchan a
thing as me. I'm no fit to hang. They ca' me the Cannleworm!
An' I'll dae somethin' for ye, wulln't I? An' ye'll can hang the
ithers?
HUNT. I thought I hadn't mistook my man. Now, you look here,
Andrew Ainslie, you're a bad lot. I've evidence to hang you
fifty times over. But the Deacon is my mark. Will you peach, or
wont you? You blow the gaff, and I'll pull you through. You
don't, and I'll scragg you as sure as my name's Jerry Hunt.
AINSLIE. I'll dae onything. It's the hanging fleys me. I'll
dae onything, onything no to hang.
HUNT. Don't lie crawling there, but get up and answer me like a
man. Ain't this Deacon Brodie the fine workman that's been doing
all these tip-topping burglaries?
AINSLIE. It's him, mister; it's him. That's the man. Ye're in
the very bit. Deacon Brodie. I'll can tak' ye to his vera door.
HUNT. How do you know?
AINSLIE. I gi'ed him a han' wi' them a'. It was him an' Badger
Moore, and Geordie Smith; an' they gart me gang wi' them whether
or no; I'm that weak, an' whiles I'm donner'd wi' the drink.
But I ken a', an' I'll tell a'. And O kind gentleman, you'll
speak to their lordships for me, an' I'll no be hangit. . . I'll
no be hangit, wull I?
HUNT. But you shared, didn't you? I wonder what share they
thought you worth. How much did you get for last night's
performance down at Mother Clarke's?
AINSLIE. Just five pund, mister. Five pund. As sure's deith it
wadna be a penny mair. No but I askit mair: I did that; I'll do
deny it, mister. But Badger kickit me, an' Geordie, he said a
bad sweir, an' made he'd cut the liver out o' me, an' catch fish
wi't. It's been that way frae the first: an aith an' a bawbee
was aye guid eneuch for puir Andra.
HUNT. Well, and why did they do it? I saw Jemmy dance a
hornpipe on the table, and booze the company all round, when the
Deacon was gone. What made you cross the fight, and play booty
with your own man?
AINSLIE. Just to make him rob the Excise, mister. They're
wicked, wicked men.
HUNT. And is he right for it?
AINSLIE. Ay is he.
HUNT. By jingo! When's it for?
AINSLIE. Dear, kind gentleman, I dinna rightly ken: the
Deacon's that sair angered wi' me. I'm to get my orders frae
Geordie the nicht.
HUNT. O, you're to get your orders from Geordie, are you? Now
look here, Ainslie. You know me. I'm Hunt the Runner; I put
Jemmy Rivers in the jug this morning; I've got you this evening.
I mean to wind up with the Deacon. You understand? All right.
Then just you listen. I'm going to take these here bracelets
off, and send you home to that celebrated bed of yours. Only, as
soon as you've seen the Dook you come straight round to me at Mr.
Procurator-Fiscal's, and let me know the Dook's views. One word,
mind, and ... cl'k! It's a bargain?
AINSLIE. Never you fear that. I'll tak' my bannet an' come
straucht to ye. Eh God, I'm glad it's nae mair nor that to start
wi'. An' may the Lord bless ye, dear, kind gentleman, for your
kindness. May the Lord bless ye.
HUNT. You pad the hoof.
AINSLIE (GOING OUT). An' so I wull, wulln't I not? An' bless,
bless ye while there's breath in my body, wulln't I not?
HUNT (SOLUS). You're a nice young man, Andrew Ainslie. Jemmy
Rivers and the Deacon in two days! By jingo! (HE DANCES AN
INSTANT GRAVELY, WHISTLING TO HIMSELF.) Jerry, that 'ere little
two hundred of ours is as safe as the bank.
TABLEAU VI. UNMASKED
The Stage represents a room in
introduce our wrists into these here darbies? Now we shall get
along cosier and freer than ever. Want to lie down, do you? All
right! anything to oblige.
AINSLIE (GROVELLING). It wasna me, it wasna me. It's bad
companions; I've been lost wi' bad companions an' the drink. An'
O mister, ye'll be a kind gentleman to a puir lad, an' me sae
weak, an' fair rotten wi' the drink an' that. Ye've a bonnie
kind heart, my dear, dear gentleman; ye wadna hang sitchan a
thing as me. I'm no fit to hang. They ca' me the Cannleworm!
An' I'll dae somethin' for ye, wulln't I? An' ye'll can hang the
ithers?
HUNT. I thought I hadn't mistook my man. Now, you look here,
Andrew Ainslie, you're a bad lot. I've evidence to hang you
fifty times over. But the Deacon is my mark. Will you peach, or
wont you? You blow the gaff, and I'll pull you through. You
don't, and I'll scragg you as sure as my name's Jerry Hunt.
AINSLIE. I'll dae onything. It's the hanging fleys me. I'll
dae onything, onything no to hang.
HUNT. Don't lie crawling there, but get up and answer me like a
man. Ain't this Deacon Brodie the fine workman that's been doing
all these tip-topping burglaries?
AINSLIE. It's him, mister; it's him. That's the man. Ye're in
the very bit. Deacon Brodie. I'll can tak' ye to his vera door.
HUNT. How do you know?
AINSLIE. I gi'ed him a han' wi' them a'. It was him an' Badger
Moore, and Geordie Smith; an' they gart me gang wi' them whether
or no; I'm that weak, an' whiles I'm donner'd wi' the drink.
But I ken a', an' I'll tell a'. And O kind gentleman, you'll
speak to their lordships for me, an' I'll no be hangit. . . I'll
no be hangit, wull I?
HUNT. But you shared, didn't you? I wonder what share they
thought you worth. How much did you get for last night's
performance down at Mother Clarke's?
AINSLIE. Just five pund, mister. Five pund. As sure's deith it
wadna be a penny mair. No but I askit mair: I did that; I'll do
deny it, mister. But Badger kickit me, an' Geordie, he said a
bad sweir, an' made he'd cut the liver out o' me, an' catch fish
wi't. It's been that way frae the first: an aith an' a bawbee
was aye guid eneuch for puir Andra.
HUNT. Well, and why did they do it? I saw Jemmy dance a
hornpipe on the table, and booze the company all round, when the
Deacon was gone. What made you cross the fight, and play booty
with your own man?
AINSLIE. Just to make him rob the Excise, mister. They're
wicked, wicked men.
HUNT. And is he right for it?
AINSLIE. Ay is he.
HUNT. By jingo! When's it for?
AINSLIE. Dear, kind gentleman, I dinna rightly ken: the
Deacon's that sair angered wi' me. I'm to get my orders frae
Geordie the nicht.
HUNT. O, you're to get your orders from Geordie, are you? Now
look here, Ainslie. You know me. I'm Hunt the Runner; I put
Jemmy Rivers in the jug this morning; I've got you this evening.
I mean to wind up with the Deacon. You understand? All right.
Then just you listen. I'm going to take these here bracelets
off, and send you home to that celebrated bed of yours. Only, as
soon as you've seen the Dook you come straight round to me at Mr.
Procurator-Fiscal's, and let me know the Dook's views. One word,
mind, and ... cl'k! It's a bargain?
AINSLIE. Never you fear that. I'll tak' my bannet an' come
straucht to ye. Eh God, I'm glad it's nae mair nor that to start
wi'. An' may the Lord bless ye, dear, kind gentleman, for your
kindness. May the Lord bless ye.
HUNT. You pad the hoof.
AINSLIE (GOING OUT). An' so I wull, wulln't I not? An' bless,
bless ye while there's breath in my body, wulln't I not?
HUNT (SOLUS). You're a nice young man, Andrew Ainslie. Jemmy
Rivers and the Deacon in two days! By jingo! (HE DANCES AN
INSTANT GRAVELY, WHISTLING TO HIMSELF.) Jerry, that 'ere little
two hundred of ours is as safe as the bank.
TABLEAU VI. UNMASKED
The Stage represents a room in