plays [6]
for your jolly companions every one. [THAT'S the way WE
does it!]
BRODIE. Who has the dice?
SMITH. Our mutual friend, the Candleworm.
BRODIE. You mean Ainslie? - We trust that creature too much,
Geordie.
SMITH. He's all right, Marquis. He wouldn't lay a finger on his
own mother. Why, he's no more guile in him than a set of sheep's
trotters.
[BRODIE. You think so? Then see he don't cheat you over the
dice, and give you light for loaded. See to that, George, see to
that; and you may count the Captain as bare as his last grazier.
SMITH. The Black Flag for ever! George'll trot him round to
Mother Clarke's in two twos.] How long'll you be?
BRODIE. The time to lock up and go to bed, and I'll be with you.
Can you find your way out?
SMITH. Bloom on, my Sweet William, in peaceful array. Ta-ta.
SCENE VIII
BRODIE, OLD BRODIE; to whom, MARY
MARY. O Willie, I am glad you did not go with them. I have
something to tell you. If you knew how happy I am, you would
clap your hands, Will. But come, sit you down there, and be my
good big brother, and I will kneel here and take your hand. We
must keep close to dad, and then he will feel happiness in the
air. The poor old love, if we could only tell him! But I
sometimes think his heart has gone to heaven already, and takes a
part in all our joys and sorrows; and it is only his poor body
that remains here, helpless and ignorant. Come, Will, sit you
down, and ask me questions - or guess - that will be better,
guess.
BRODIE. Not to-night, Mary; not to-night. I have other fish to
fry, and they won't wait.
MARY. Not one minute for your sister? One little minute for
your little sister?
BRODIE. Minutes are precious, Mary. I have to work for all of
us, and the clock is always busy. They are waiting for me even
now. Help me with the dad's chair. And then to bed, and dream
happy things. And to-morrow morning I will hear your news - your
good news; it must be good, you look so proud and glad. But
to-night it cannot be.
MARY. I hate your business - I hate all business. To think of
chairs, and tables, and foot-rules, all dead and wooden - and
cold pieces of money with the King's ugly head on them; and here
is your sister, your pretty sister, if you please, with something
to tell, which she would not tell you for the world, and would
give the world to have you guess, and you won't? - Not you! For
business! Fie, Deacon Brodie! But I'm too happy to find fault
with you.
BRODIE. 'And me a Deacon,' as the Procurator would say.
MARY. No such thing, sir! I am not a bit afraid of you - nor a
bit angry neither. Give me a kiss, and promise me hours and
hours to-morrow morning.
BRODIE. All day long to-morrow, if you like.
MARY. Business or none?
BRODIE. Business or none, little sister! I'll make time, I
promise you; and there's another kiss for surety. Come along.
(THEY PROCEED TO PUSH OUT THE CHAIR, L.C.) The wine and wisdom
of this evening have given me one of my headaches, and I'm in
haste for bed. You'll be good, won't you, and see they make no
noise, and let me sleep my fill to-morrow morning till I wake?
MARY. Poor Will! How selfish I must have seemed! You should
have told me sooner, and I wouldn't have worried you. Come
along.
(SHE GOES OUT, PUSHING CHAIR.)
SCENE IX
BRODIE
(HE CLOSES, LOCKS, AND DOUBLE-BOLTS BOTH DOORS)
BRODIE. Now for one of the Deacon's headaches! Rogues all,
rogues all! (GOES TO CLOTHES-PRESS, AND PROCEEDS TO CHANGE HIS
COAT.) On with the new coat and into the new life! Down with
the Deacon and up with the robber! (CHANGING NECK-BAND AND
RUFFLES.) Eh God! how still the house is! There's something in
hypocrisy after all. If we were as good as we seem, what would
the world be? [The city has its vizard on, and we - at night we
are our naked selves. Trysts are keeping, bottles cracking,
knives are stripping; and here is Deacon Brodie flaming forth the
man of men he is!] - How still it is! .
does it!]
BRODIE. Who has the dice?
SMITH. Our mutual friend, the Candleworm.
BRODIE. You mean Ainslie? - We trust that creature too much,
Geordie.
SMITH. He's all right, Marquis. He wouldn't lay a finger on his
own mother. Why, he's no more guile in him than a set of sheep's
trotters.
[BRODIE. You think so? Then see he don't cheat you over the
dice, and give you light for loaded. See to that, George, see to
that; and you may count the Captain as bare as his last grazier.
SMITH. The Black Flag for ever! George'll trot him round to
Mother Clarke's in two twos.] How long'll you be?
BRODIE. The time to lock up and go to bed, and I'll be with you.
Can you find your way out?
SMITH. Bloom on, my Sweet William, in peaceful array. Ta-ta.
SCENE VIII
BRODIE, OLD BRODIE; to whom, MARY
MARY. O Willie, I am glad you did not go with them. I have
something to tell you. If you knew how happy I am, you would
clap your hands, Will. But come, sit you down there, and be my
good big brother, and I will kneel here and take your hand. We
must keep close to dad, and then he will feel happiness in the
air. The poor old love, if we could only tell him! But I
sometimes think his heart has gone to heaven already, and takes a
part in all our joys and sorrows; and it is only his poor body
that remains here, helpless and ignorant. Come, Will, sit you
down, and ask me questions - or guess - that will be better,
guess.
BRODIE. Not to-night, Mary; not to-night. I have other fish to
fry, and they won't wait.
MARY. Not one minute for your sister? One little minute for
your little sister?
BRODIE. Minutes are precious, Mary. I have to work for all of
us, and the clock is always busy. They are waiting for me even
now. Help me with the dad's chair. And then to bed, and dream
happy things. And to-morrow morning I will hear your news - your
good news; it must be good, you look so proud and glad. But
to-night it cannot be.
MARY. I hate your business - I hate all business. To think of
chairs, and tables, and foot-rules, all dead and wooden - and
cold pieces of money with the King's ugly head on them; and here
is your sister, your pretty sister, if you please, with something
to tell, which she would not tell you for the world, and would
give the world to have you guess, and you won't? - Not you! For
business! Fie, Deacon Brodie! But I'm too happy to find fault
with you.
BRODIE. 'And me a Deacon,' as the Procurator would say.
MARY. No such thing, sir! I am not a bit afraid of you - nor a
bit angry neither. Give me a kiss, and promise me hours and
hours to-morrow morning.
BRODIE. All day long to-morrow, if you like.
MARY. Business or none?
BRODIE. Business or none, little sister! I'll make time, I
promise you; and there's another kiss for surety. Come along.
(THEY PROCEED TO PUSH OUT THE CHAIR, L.C.) The wine and wisdom
of this evening have given me one of my headaches, and I'm in
haste for bed. You'll be good, won't you, and see they make no
noise, and let me sleep my fill to-morrow morning till I wake?
MARY. Poor Will! How selfish I must have seemed! You should
have told me sooner, and I wouldn't have worried you. Come
along.
(SHE GOES OUT, PUSHING CHAIR.)
SCENE IX
BRODIE
(HE CLOSES, LOCKS, AND DOUBLE-BOLTS BOTH DOORS)
BRODIE. Now for one of the Deacon's headaches! Rogues all,
rogues all! (GOES TO CLOTHES-PRESS, AND PROCEEDS TO CHANGE HIS
COAT.) On with the new coat and into the new life! Down with
the Deacon and up with the robber! (CHANGING NECK-BAND AND
RUFFLES.) Eh God! how still the house is! There's something in
hypocrisy after all. If we were as good as we seem, what would
the world be? [The city has its vizard on, and we - at night we
are our naked selves. Trysts are keeping, bottles cracking,
knives are stripping; and here is Deacon Brodie flaming forth the
man of men he is!] - How still it is! .