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only one。
JEAN。 Geordie； I want nae mair o' your nonsense； mind。
SMITH。 There's our old particular the Deacon； now。 Why is he
ashamed of a lovely woman？ That's not my idea of the Young
Chevalier； Jean。 If I had luck； we should be married； and retire
to our estates in the country； shouldn't us？ and go to church and
be happy； like the nobility and gentry。
JEAN。 Geordie Smith； div ye mean ye'd mairry me？
SMITH。 Mean it？ What else has ever been the 'umble petition of
your honest but well…meaning friend； Roman； and
fellow…countryman？ I know the Deacon's your man； and I know he's
a cut above G。 S。； but he won't last； Jean； and I shall。
JEAN。 Ay； I'm muckle ta'en up wi' him； wha could help it？
SMITH。 Well； and my sort don't grow on apple…trees either。
JEAN。 Ye're a fine； cracky； neebourly body； Geordie； if ye wad
just let me be。
SMITH。 I know I ain't a Scotchman born。
JEAN。 I dinna think sae muckle the waur o' ye even for that； if
ye would just let me be。
＇HUNT （ENTERING BEHIND； ASIDE）。 Are they thick？ Anyhow； it's a
second chance。＇
SMITH。 But he won't last； Jean； and when he leaves you； you come
to me。 Is that your taste in pastry？ That's the kind of
harticle that I present。
HUNT （SURPRISING THEM AS IN TABLEAU I。）。 Why； you're the very
parties I was looking for！
JEAN。 Mercy me！
SMITH。 Damn it； Jerry； this is unkind。
HUNT。 ＇Now this is what I call a picter of good fortune。＇ Ain't
it strange I should have dropped across you comfortable and
promiscuous like this？
JEAN （STOLIDLY）。 I hope ye're middling weel； Mr。 Hunt？ （GOING。）
Mr。 Smith！
SMITH。 Mrs。 Watt； ma'am！ （GOING。）
HUNT。 Hold hard； George。 Speaking as one lady's man to another；
turn about's fair play。 You've had your confab； and now I'm
going to have mine。 ＇Not that I've done with you； you stand by
and wait。＇ Ladies first； George； ladies first； that's the size
of it。 （TO JEAN； ASIDE。） Now； Mrs。 Watt； I take it you ain't a
natural fool？
JEAN。 And thank ye kindly； Mr。 Hunt。
SMITH （INTERFERING）。 Jean 。 。 。 ！
HUNT （KEEPING HIM OFF）。 Half a tick； George。 （TO JEAN。） Mrs。
Watt； I've a warrant in my pocket。 One； two； three： will you
peach？
JEAN。 Whaten kind of a word'll that be？
SMITH。 Mum it is； Jean！
HUNT。 WHEN you've done dancing； George！ （TO JEAN。） It ain't a
pretty expression； my dear； I own it。 'Will you blow the gaff？'
is perhaps more tenderer。
JEAN。 I think ye've a real strange way o' expressin yoursel'。
HUNT （TO JEAN）。 I can't waste time on you； my girl。 It's now or
never。 Will you turn king's evidence？
JEAN。 I think ye'll have made a mistake； like。
HUNT。 Well； I'm 。。。 ！ （SEPARATING THEM。） ＇No； not yet； don't
push me。＇ George's turn now。 （TO GEORGE。） George； I've a
warrant in my pocket。
SMITH。 As per usual； Jerry？
HUNT。 Now I want king's evidence。
SMITH。 Ah！ so you came a cropper with HER； Jerry。 Pride had a
fall。
HUNT。 A free 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？ 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；