C. N. ( Aside: What! have they got hold of that story, then?)
J. F. Well, neighbours, what’s to be said? anybody against it? Is this unpleasant business agreed to?
All. Agreed, agreed.
J. F. Well, then, let the dog be shot. Bill, it’s your turn for an ugly job this time: you must do it.
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.)