Lawson. Ye reprobate deevil!
Brodie. Have a care, Procurator. No wry words!
Lawson. Do you say it to my face, sir? Dod, sir, I’m the Crown Prosecutor.
Brodie. Right. The Prosecutor for the Crown. And where did you get your brandy?
Lawson. Eh?
Brodie. Your brandy! Your brandy man! Where do you get your brandy? And you a Crown official and an elder!
Lawson. Whaur the deevil did ye hear that?
Brodie. Rogues all! Rogues all, Procurator!
Lawson. Ay, ay. Lord save us! Guidsake, to think o’ that noo! . . . Can ye give me some o’ that Cognac? I’m . . . I’m sort o’ shaken, William, I’m sort o’ shaken. Thank you, William! (Looking, piteously at glass.) Nunc est bibendum. (Drinks.) Troth, I’m set ajee a bit. Wha the deevil tauld ye?
Brodie. Ask no questions, brother. We are a pair.