M. P. Spare you, citizen? Well, I could have spared you once, well enough, and so could many another poor devil have done. But as to dying in the copse, no, I really can’t let you do that. You must come home to our house, and we’ll see what can be done with you. It’s our old house, but really nice enough, now; all that pretty picture of plenty that I told you about on that day when you were so hard upon me has come to pass, and more.
C. N. Oh, no! I can’t come!
M. P. Oh, yes; you can get as far as that, and we’ll give you something to eat and drink, and then you’ll be stronger. It will really please me, if you’ll come; I’m like a child with a new toy, these days, and want to show new-comers all that’s going on. Come along, and I’ll show you the pretty new hall they are building for our parish; it’s such a pleasure to stand and watch the
lads at work there, as merry as grigs. Hark! you may hear their trowels clinking from here. And, Mr. Nupkins, you mustn’t think I stole those loaves; I really didn’t.
C. N. Oh, dear me! Oh, dear me! She wants to get me away and murder me! I won’t go.
M. P. How can you talk such nonsense? Why, on earth, should I murder you?
C. N. (sobbing). Judicially, judicially!
M. P. How silly you are! I really don’t know what you mean. Well, if you won’t come with me, I’m off; but you know where to go when you want your dinner. But if you still owe me a grudge, which would be very silly of you, any of the people in the houses yonder will give you your food. [Exit.
C. N. There! She’s going to fetch some ferocious revolutionaries to make an end of me. It’s no use trying to stop her now. I will flee in another direction; perhaps I shan’t always meet people I’ve sentenced.
[As he is going he runs up against William Joyce, once Socialist Ensign, entering from the other side.