The Complete Plays of J. M. Barrie - 30 Titles in One Edition. Джеймс Барри

her to Rintoul.

      GAVIN. To Rintoul! Nanny, they will fling her into jail!

      NANNY. That’s what he wants — so as to keep her frae coming near you.

      GAVIN. In the wood, you say! (Is rushing off.)

      NANNY. Come BACK! Your PRAYER MEETING!

      (BABBIE screams again. GAVIN hesitates, then rushes off. The bell rings violently as if to recall him to his duties, NANNY is in despair.)

      What will they say to this?

      (Is going towards gate, turns and hastily exits. The bell rings a little longer, then stops, WHAMOND and SNECKY enter at gate.)

      WHAMOND (looking at window). His light’s OUT. He canna be in THE Manse. (Crosses to Manse door and rings bell furiously.)

      SNECKY. It’s extraordinary — ay, it’s strange.

      (Enter ANDREW and SILVA through gate.)

      Andrew. What can have become o’ the Minister?

      WHAMOND. He’s no in the Manse.

      SILVA. I never kent the like occur afore.

      WHAMOND (savagely). And you’ll never ken it occur again!

      (Exit into Manse.)

      ANDREW. Tammas is looking awful black and dour.

      SNECKY. He is, ay, he is.

      (Light in Manse goes up.)

      ANDREW. He needna be, for the one thing we ‘re sure o’ is that nothing but duty o’ the highest kind would keep Mr. Dishart frae the prayer meeting.

      (Light in Manse goes out.)

      SNECKY. Oh, losh, ay, oh yes, we have the completest confidence in him — but it’s suspicious.

      ANDREW. You may say so.

      (They are waggling their heads solemnly when WHAMOND returns with a sheet of paper in his hand.)

      WHAMOND. He’s gone.

      SNECKY. Tal, sal, dal, it cows! What’s that in your hand, Tammas?

      WHAMOND. It’S WHAT HE WAS WRITING UP TO THE LAST MINUTE, I’M THINKING, FOR THE INK’S JIMPLY DRY.

      ANDREW. It’ll be his Sabbath sermon. What’s his text, Tammas?

      WHAMOND.! CANNA SEE.

      SILVA. Here’S a lantern. (Holds up BABBIE’S lantern to let WHAMOND read.)

      SNECKY. What’s the text, Tammas?

      (All listen greedily.)

      WHAMOND (surprised). It’s headed, ‘Her Boy Am I.’ snecky. ‘Her Boy Am I’! I canna mind o’ that text.

      ANDREW. I think it’s in Ephesians.

      SNECKY. How does he treat it, Tammas?

      WHAMOND (solemnly reading) —

      ‘I would I were the favoured wind That fans her cheek so fair, Oh, let me be a thread to bind The glories of her hair.’ (He stops grimly. He understands, but the others look puzzled.)

      SILVA (to snecky). Snecky, what think you?

      SNECKY (puzzled). Oh, man, man, it’s really — ay, it’s nobly said, oh, ay, ay! (Solemnly.)

      ANDREW. But what does it mean?

      SNECKY. He doesna ken what it means, Tammas!

      WHAMOND. Do you?

      SNECKY. I didna exactly see the meaning o’t myself, but, oh, ay, ay! Ooo! Oo!

      WHAMOND. Maybe this is plainer —

      ‘Oh, ask me not to count the cost, My Babbie’s arms to fly. The man who hesitates is lost, And so, Her Boy Am I.’ snecky (heavily, after a pause). Oh, lads, lads, that’s the true religion.

      ANDREW. Tammas, does every line begin with a capital letter?

      WHAMOND. It does.

      ANDREW. Then in my opinion it has nothing to do wi’ sermons. It’s poetry.

      SNECKY. Dinna SAY that, Andrew.

      ANDREW. Also, in my opinion, it’s about a woman I snecky. Keeps a’!

      ANDREW. I’ maun be the lady that gae him the rose!

      SILVA. So it will. She maun be a terrible fine woman that would make a minister use sic language. Tammas, you ‘re looking dour.

      WHAMOND (sternly and sadly). And well I may, for I have a woeful duty to perform.

      (All grow serious.)

      Friends, Mr. Dishart is not the noble youth we thought him.

      SILVA (fiercely). Have a care what you ‘re saying.

      WHAMOND. The fine lady you ‘re all so curious about, I ken wha she is. I saw her gie him the rose, I saw him philandering wi’ her in the wood, I ken o’ secret meetings they’ve had since then. I ken wha has bewitched him, and I’ve warned him, but he’s hers, body and soul — she’s the Egyptian!

      (Sensation.)

      SNECKY. (“None of that.

      ANDREW J Ca’ canny.

      SILVA.! Can you prove this? (Fiercely shakes lantern in WHAMOND’S face.)

      WHAMOND. I wish I couldna. (Pointing at lantern)

      Whaur did you get this? It’s no the Manse lantern.

      SILVA. I found it here. That shawl was round it. (Points to shawl on ground.)

      WHAMOND (poking up shawl from above well). A gipsy shawl! (Drops it again.)

      SNECKY. You dinna say —

      WHAMOND. Yes, I say it. We ken now wha the Minister is awa’ wi’.

      (Their heads are bowed in grief, WHAMOND speaks quietly.)

      Silva, go back to the kirk.

      SILVA. Tammas, it’s your duty to tell them — you ‘re chief elder. I was fond of the young man — and I canna.

      WHAMOND (with quiet force). God give me strength to do my duty, for I love the lad even as my own son. Go back to the kirk, Will’um, and you maun keep the prayer meeting in his place. Tell them nothing till I come, and then if they have to be told — I’ll tell them.

      (silva goes slowly, puts lantern down above well, and goes through gate.)

      You away and look for him. Take the Prosen Road. When you find him, bring him here to me.

      (andrew exits.)

      WHAMOND (to SNECKY). Lock that door.

      (SNECKY, wondering, locks Manse door.)

      Bring the key to me.

      (snecky gives him the key and sits on seat.)

      Gavin Dishart, if you canna account for this night’s work, never again shall you preach in that kirk, never again shall you enter that Manse door!

      SNECKY (heavily). It’s hard on him — and it’s hard on us all — but ‘Her Boy Am I’! That settles him.

      (WHAMOND stands implacable.)

      Act III

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      Rintoul Castle. An ancient hall in an old Scottish baronial house. Except for softer chairs, etc., this chamber is much as it was in the days when Jacobites lived at Rintoul. Many