SCENE VI
Burns’s house at Dumfries, in July, 1796, five years later.
It is a sweltering afternoon, and Burns, worn and ill, is seated by the open window, looking out on to the street.
Out in the town can be heard a drum and fife band. As it comes nearer and passes away, Burns sings with some effort.
When wild war’s deadly blast was blawn,
And gentle peace returning,
Wi’ mony a sweet babe fatherless,
And mony a widow mourning;
I left the lines and tented field,
Where lang I’d been a lodger,
My humble knapsack a’ my wealth,
A poor and honest sodger.
[Jean comes in.]
Jean: You mustn’t exhaust yourself, Robin dear.
Burns: There’s not much left of me now to spend, my girl. It’s busy in the town to-day?
Jean: Aye. It’s the emigrants. And the volunteers are leaving this evening.
Burns: They’re going to fight the Frenchies, and I’m going to fight auld Nickie-ben. We’re full of affairs in Scotland to-day.
Jean: Mr. Gavin Hamilton is coming to see you.
Burns: It’s very attentive of him. He’s welcome. Most of my fine friends have grown tired of me these years.
Jean: You mustn’t say that, Robin.
Burns: Why not? It’s true. They wouldn’t look at me across the street, lots of them, these months past. I don’t blame them. I’ve not played my game very well, Jean.
Jean: There are enquiries for you everywhere in the town. They’re troubled for you, boy.
Burns: It’s kind of them, but it’s late now. Mr. Thompson has sent the five pounds. I’ve had to turn beggar at the end.
Jean: You earned it, you know that.
Burns: I know I had to beg.
[An approaching voice is heard.]
Burns: There’s a friend who’s not welcome.
[Holy Willie passes the window, his prayer on his lips.]
But, Lord, remember me and mine,
Wi’ mercies temp’ral and divine,
That I for grace and gear may shine,
Excell’d by nane,
And a’ the glory shall be Thine,
Amen, Amen!
[He comes to the door. Twelve years have made no change in him.]
Holy Willie: Is the man Burns within?
Jean: Mr. Burns is very ill.
Holy Willie: Aye, so I am informed. (Coming into the room.) I came the journey expressly to exhort you to repentance.
Burns: I’ve spent my life repenting.
Holy Willie: I fear you’ve lived in unbridled pleasure.
Burns: You’re a great reconciler to another world, minister.
Jean: Will you not leave him in peace?
Holy Willie: There’s no peace for the damned. I had little hope of grace in him. But I wanted my flock to know that I had not failed in my duty by one of them, though strayed. I’m content.
Burns: I’ll never see you again, minister, God be praised. But listen, a parting word to you.
[He sings.]
O ye wha are sae guid yoursel’,
Sae pious and sae holy,
Ye’ve nought to do but mark and tell
Your neebours’ fauts and folly!
Whase life is like a weel-gaun mill,
Supply’d wi’ store o’ water,
The heapèt happer’s ebbing still,
And still the clap plays clatter.
Then gently scan your brother man,
Still gentler sister woman;
Though they may gang a kennin’ wrang,
To step aside is human:
One point must still be greatly dark,
The moving Why they do it;
And just as lamely can ye mark
How far perhaps they rue it.
Holy Willie: Stubborn in your pride, even at death’s gate. I’ll persevere with you no longer. Repent, repent—
[He goes out, his voice fading with—]
But, Lord, remember me and mine,
Wi’ mercies temp’ral and divine,
That I for gear and grace may shine,
Excell’d by nane,
And a’ the glory shall be Thine,
Amen, Amen!
Jean: I should have kept him out. He vexed you.
Burns: I’ll never be vexed again. He’s some trick of the Lord’s. Jean girl, I’ll say it now, and then we’ll not speak of it again. You’ve been the one sure thing in this world for me. I’m tired, and I leave it all gladly, but you, and them you’ve given me. Bless you everlastingly, and forgive me for my poor soul’s sake, and I’ll need no other forgiveness on earth.
Jean (kisses him, and sings):
Ae fond kiss, and then we sever;
Ae fareweel, and then, for ever!
Deep in heart-wrung tears I’ll pledge thee,
Warring sighs and groans I’ll wage thee.
Who shall say that fortune grieves him,
While the star of hope she leaves him?
Me, nae cheerfu’ twinkle lights me:
Dark despair around benights me.
Burns (taking up the song):
Fare-thee-weel, thou first and fairest!
Fare-thee-weel, thou best and dearest!
Thine be ilka joy and treasure,
Peace, enjoyment, love, and pleasure!
Ae fond kiss, and then we sever;
Ae fareweel, alas, for ever!
Deep in heart-wrung tears I’ll pledge thee,
Warring sighs and groans I’ll wage thee!
Together:
Had we never lov’d sae kindly,
Had we never lov’d sae blindly,
Never met—or never parted,
We had ne’er been broken-hearted.
Burns: There, lass. Now we must be stout-hearted. Ah, here’s Mr. Hamilton coming.
[Gavin Hamilton passes the window. Jean goes to the door.]
Jean (showing him in): It’s good of you to come, Mr. Hamilton.
Hamilton: Well, Robert, my lad. Taking some of your Dumfries air?
Burns: Pretty near my last draught of it, Mr. Hamilton.
Hamilton: No, no.
Burns: Oh, but it is. But I’m easy in my mind for myself now. If you’ll do what you can to see that things here don’t break up.
Hamilton: You can trust us about that. But you mustn’t give up.
Burns: I’m old bones before my time, Mr. Hamilton, and I’ll not have another word of repining in this house.
Hamilton: There’s very widespread concern about you, Robert.
Burns: Aye? I’ll be a great ceremony, dead. Now, Mr. Hamilton, I don’t want you to talk for a little. Sit down, just there, will you, where I can look at a friend that’s never gone back on me.
[Hamilton sits opposite Burns, and Jean at her husband’s side. Burns seems for a moment to be falling asleep, then there is a sound of moving people outside.]
Burns: What’s that?
Jean (looking out of the window): It’s the emigrants. They’re leaving the town.
Hamilton: I saw them gathering outside your town hall as I came by.
Burns: Aye—they’re going to a new world. Starting a new life. If I were not the miserable disaster I am, I might be going with them. I might be going to prove myself in far lands.
[The crowd is approaching, singing on its way.]
Burns (in a new excitement): Do you hear, Mr. Hamilton—do you hear, Jean?
[The crowd passes the window, singing. Burns and the others taking up the song.]
Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
And never brought to mind?
Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
And days o’ lang syne?
For auld lang syne, my dear,
For auld lang syne,
We’ll tak’ a cup o’ kindness yet,
For auld lang syne.
We twa hae run about the braes,
And pou’d the gowans fine;
But we’ve wander’d mony a weary foot
Sin’ auld lang syne.
For auld lang syne, my dear,
For auld lang syne,
We’ll tak’ a cup o’ kindness yet,
For auld lang syne.
Burns (as the song fades away): Do you hear that? They’re singing my song—they’re taking me out into the world with them. The darlings!
[Again he relapses into his quietness for a moment. Then in the distance is heard the pipes of a Scots regiment on march.]
Burns (rousing): Listen—listen. It’s my volunteers—they’re going to the wars.
[The pipes come down the street.]
Burns: They’re marching away, and I’ll never see them come back.
[The pipers lead the regiment past the window.]
Burns (forcing himself up, and waving his muffler out of the window to them): God go with you, my lads—Scotland for ever.
[As they pass down the street, he sings.]
Scots, wha hae wi’ Wallace bled,
Scots, wham Bruce has aften led;
Welcome to your gory bed,
Or to victorie!
Now’s the day, and now’s the hour;
See the front of battle lour;
See approach proud Edward’s pow’r—
Chains and slaverie!
By Oppression’s woes and pains!
By your sons in servile chains!
We will drain our dearest veins
But they shall be free!
Lay the proud usurpers low!
Tyrants fall in every foe!
Liberty’s in every blow!—
Let us do, or die!
Scots, wha hae wi’ Wallace bled,
Scots, wham Bruce has aften led;
Welcome to your gory bed,
Or to victorie!
[He sinks back exhausted into the arms of Hamilton and Jean, and]
THE CURTAIN FALLS
Transcriber’s Note
The following changes were made to the text as printed:
Page 3: “why, the quality’s serving women would laugh at it” changed to “why, the quality’s serving women would laugh at it.”
Page 22: “Some of the others at another table are playing cards). We were friends, Nell, you and I.” changed to “Some of the others at another table are playing cards): We were friends, Nell, you and I.”
Page 43: “out by the candle-light of the stairway” changed to “out by the candlelight of the stairway”
Page 71: “Burns (to full chorus, is singing),” changed to “Burns (to full chorus, is singing),”
Page 76: “White: A song, a song” changed to “White: A song, a song.”
Page 109: “Heaven gave me more--it made thee mine” changed to “Heaven gave me more--it made thee mine.”
Page 111: “auld Nickie Ben” changed to “auld Nickie-ben”