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Cromwell！
JEAN。 What a expense！
SMITH。 Hey； brandy！ The deuce of the grape！ Have a toothful；
Mrs。 Watt。 ＇（SINGS） …
'Says Bacchus to Venus；
There's brandy between us；
And the cradle of love is the bowl； the bowl！'＇
JEAN。 Nane for me； I thank ye； Mr。 Smith。
SMITH。 What brings the man from stuff like this to rotgut and
spittoons at Mother Clarke's； but ah； George； you was born for a
higher spear！ And so was you； Mrs。 Watt； though I say it that
shouldn't。 （SEEING OLD BRODIE FOR THE FIRST TIME。） Hullo！ it's
a man！
JEAN。 Thonder in the chair。 （THEY GO TO LOOK AT HIM； THEIR
BACKS TO THE DOOR。）
GEORGE。 Is he alive？
JEAN。 I think there's something wrong with him。
GEORGE。 And how was you to…morrow； my valued old gentleman； eh？
JEAN。 Dinna mak' a mock o' him； Geordie。
OLD BRODIE。 My son … the Deacon … Deacon of his trade。
JEAN。 He'll be his feyther。 （HUNT APPEARS AT DOOR C。； AND
STANDS LOOKING ON。）
SMITH。 The Deacon's old man！ Well； he couldn't expect to have
his quiver full of sich； could he； Jean？ （TO OLD BRODIE。） Ah；
my Christian soldier； if you had； the world would have been more
varigated。 Mrs。 Deakin （TO JEAN）； let me introduce you to your
dear papa。
JEAN。 Think shame to yoursel'！ This is the Deacon's house； you
and me shouldna be here by rights； and if we are； it's the least
we can do to behave dacent。 ＇This is no the way ye'll mak' me
like ye。＇
SMITH。 All right； Duchess。 Don't be angry。
SCENE V
To these； HUNT； C。 （He steals down； and claps each one suddenly
on the shoulder。）
HUNT。 Is there a gentleman here by the name of Mr。 Procurator…
Fiscal？
SMITH （PULLING HIMSELF TOGETHER）。 D…n it； Jerry； what do you
mean by startling an old customer like that？
HUNT。 What； my brave un'？ You're the very party I was looking
for！
SMITH。 There's nothing out against me this time？
HUNT。 I'll take odds there is。 But it ain't in my hands。 （TO
OLD BRODIE。） You'll excuse me； old genelman？
SMITH。 Ah； well； if it's all in the way of friendship！ 。 。 。 I
say； Jean； ＇you and me had best be on the toddle。＇ We shall be
late for church。
HUNT。 Lady； George？
SMITH。 It's a … yes； it's a lady。 Come along； Jean。
HUNT。 A Mrs。 Deacon； I believe？ ＇That was the name； I think？＇
Won't Mrs。 Deacon let me have a queer at her phiz？
JEAN （UNMUFFLING）。 I've naething to be ashamed of。 My name's
Mistress Watt； I'm weel kennt at the Wynd heid； there's naething
again me。
HUNT。 No； to be sure； there ain't； and why clap on the blinkers；
my dear？ You that has a face like a rose； and with a cove like
Jerry Hunt that might be your born father？ ＇But all this don't
tell me about Mr。 Procurator…Fiscal。＇
GEORGE （IN AN AGONY）。 Jean； Jean； we shall be late。 （GOING WITH
ATTEMPTED SWAGGER。） Well； ta…ta； Jerry。
SCENE VI
To these； C； BRODIE and LAWSON （greatcoat； muffler； lantern）。
LAWSON （FROM THE DOOR）。 Come your ways； Mistress Watt。
JEAN。 That's the Fiscal himsel'。
HUNT。 Mr。 Procurator…Fiscal； I believe？
LAWSON。 That's me。 Who'll you be？
HUNT。 Hunt the Runner； sir； Hunt from Bow Street； English
warrant。
LAWSON。 There's a place for a' things； officer。 Come your ways
to my office； with me and this guid wife。
BRODIE （ASIDE TO JEAN； AS SHE PASSES WITH A CURTSEY）。 How dare
you be here？ （ALOUD TO SMITH。） Wait you here； my man。
SMITH。 If you please； sir。 （BRODIE GOES OUT； C。）
SCENE VII
BRODIE； SMITH。
BRODIE。 What the devil brings you here？
SMITH。 CONfound it； Deakin！ Not rusty？
＇BRODIE。 And not you only： Jean too！ Are you mad？
SMITH。 Why； you don't mean to say； Deakin； that you have been
stodged by G。 Smith； Esquire？ Plummy old George？＇
BRODIE。 There was my uncle the Procurator …
SMITH。 The Fiscal？ He don't count。
BRODIE。 What d'ye mean？
SMITH。 Well； Deakin； since Fiscal Lawson's Nunkey Lawson； and
it's all in the family way； I don't mind telling you that Nunkey
Lawson's a customer of George's。 We give Nunkey Lawson a good
deal of brandy … G。 S。 and Co。's celebrated Nantz。
BRODIE。 What！ does he buy that smuggled trash of yours？
SMITH。 Well； we don't call it smuggled in the trade； Deakin。
It's a wink； and King George's picter between G。 S。 and the
Nunks。
BRODIE。 Gad！ that's worth knowing。 O Procurator； Procurator； is
there no such thing as virtue？ ＇ALLONS！ It's enough to cure a
man of vice for this world and the other。＇ But hark you hither；
Smith； this is all damned well in its way； but it don't explain
what brings you here。
SMITH。 I've trapped a pigeon for you。
BRODIE。 Can't you pluck him yourself？
SMITH。 Not me。 He's too flash in the feather for a simple
nobleman like George Lord Smith。 It's the great Capting
Starlight； fresh in from York。 ＇He's exercised his noble art all
the way from here to London。 'Stand and deliver； stap my
vitals！'＇ And the north road is no bad lay； Deakin。
BRODIE。 Flush？
SMITH （MIMICKING）。 'The graziers； split me！ A mail； stap my
vitals！ and seven demned farmers； by the Lard … '
BRODIE。 By Gad！
SMITH。 Good for trade； ain't it？ And we thought； Deakin； the
Badger and me； that coins being ever on the vanish； and you not
over sweet on them there lovely little locks at Leslie's； and
them there bigger and uglier marine stores at the Excise Office 。
。 。
BRODIE （IMPASSIBLE）。 Go on。
SMITH。 Worse luck！ 。 。 。 We thought； me and the Badger； you
know； that maybe you'd like to exercise your helbow with our free
and galliant horseman。
BRODIE。 The old move； I presume？ the double set of dice？
SMITH。 That's the rig； Deakin。 What you drop on the square you
pick up again on the cross。 ＇Just as you did with G。 S。 and
Co。's own agent and correspondent； the Admiral from Nantz。＇ You
always was a neat hand with the bones； Deakin。
BRODIE。 The usual terms； I suppose？
SMITH。 The old discount； Deakin。 Ten in the pound for you； and
the rest 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 Wi