W. J. Well, if it must be, it must. I’ll go and get a gun in a minute.
C. N. Oh, God! to think of their disposing of a fellow-man’s life with so little ceremony! And probably they will go and eat their dinners afterwards and think nothing of it. (Throwing himself on his knees before Jack Freeman.) Oh, your Socialist worship! Oh, citizen my lord! spare me, spare me! Send me to prison, load me with chains, but spare my life!
J. F. Why, what ails the man? Chains! we don’t use chains for that sort of thing. They’re good to fasten up boats with, and for carts, and such like; so why should we waste them by ornamenting you with them? And as to prison, we can’t send you to prison, because we haven’t got one. How could we have one? who would be the jailer? No, no; we can’t be bothered with you in prison. You must learn to behave decently.
C. N. What! have you no punishment but death, then? O! what am I to do? what am I to do?
1st Neighbour. Do? Why, behave decently.
C. N. But how can I behave decently when I’m dead? (Moans.)
2nd Neighbour. But, neighbour, you must die some time or another, you know. Make the most of your time while you are alive.
C. N. Have you the heart to say such things to a man whom you are going to shoot in a few minutes? How horrible! Oh, look here! if you haven’t got a prison, build one for me! or make one out of a cellar, and lock me up in it; but don’t shoot me—don’t!
W. J. Well, old acquaintance, to want a prison all to your own cheek! This is individualism, with a vengeance! It beats Auberon Herbert. But who is going to shoot you?
C. N. Why, you. He said shoot the dog (weeping).