LAWSON. A bairn's an excuse; I ken that fine, Mistress Watt. But bairn or nane, my woman, ye should be at the kirk. Awa' wi' ye! Hear to the bells; they're ringing in. (_JEAN curtsies to both, and goes out C. The bells, which have been ringing quicker, cease._) SCENE IV LAWSON (_to BRODIE, returning C. from door_). _Mulier formosa superne_, William: a braw lass and a decent woman forbye. BRODIE. I'm no judge, Procurator, but I'll take your word for it. Is she not a tenant of yours? LAWSON. Ay, ay; a bit house on my land in Libberton's Wynd. Her man's awa, puir body; or they tell me sae; and I'm concerned for her (she's unco bonnie to be left her lane). But it sets me brawly to be finding faut wi' the puir lass, and me an elder, and should be at the plate. (There'll be twa words about this in the Kirk Session.) However, it's nane of my business that brings me, or I should tak' the mair shame to mysel.' Na, sir, it's for you; it's your business keeps me frae the kirk. BRODIE. My business, Procurator? I rejoice to see it in such excellent hands. LAWSON. Ye see, it's this way. I had a crack wi' the laddie Leslie, _inter pocula_ (he took a stirrup-cup wi' me), and he tells me he has askit Mary, and she was to speak to ye hersel'. O, ye needna look sae gash. Did she speak? and what'll you have said to her? BRODIE. She has not spoken; I have said nothing; and I believe I asked you to avoid the subject. LAWSON. Ay, I made a note o' that observation, William (and assoilzied mysel'). Mary's a guid lass, and I'm her uncle, and I'm here to be answered. Is it to be ay or no? BRODIE. It's to be no. This marriage must be quashed; and hark ye, Procurator, you must help me. LAWSON. Me? ye're daft! And what for why? BRODIE. Because I've spent the trust-money, and I can't refund it. 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. LAWSON. Pair, indeed! Pair, William Brodie! Upon my saul, sir, ye're a brazen-faced man that durst say it to my face! Tak' you care, my bonnie young man, that your craig doesna feel the wecht o' your hurdies. Keep the plainstanes side o' the gallows. _Via trita, via tuta_, William Brodie! BRODIE. And the brandy, Procurator? and the brandy?