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… behind me ! Quick, if you love him ! MOLLY. I will see him safe. What is this danger ? CARRUTHERS. Danger of your sort. She mounts. Old Tyson comes out into the open. TYSON. Eh, less, wheer off noo ? MOLLY. Father ! Father ! CARRUTHERS. Now. Spurs on the horse. TYSON. What, ye’ll abdooct my darter ? CARRUTHERS. Ha ! Ha ! Ha ! Gallops off.
PERSONS STUDIED THE MARQUIS OF GLENSTRAE, K.G. TYSON ............................................ A farmer. SIR PERCIVAL DE PERCIVALE ............. Bart K.C.B. a deadhead. SIR PERCY DE PERCIVALE .................. His Son. JOHN CARRUTHERS ................................ His Friend and Steward of his house. GREUMOCH ......................................... A Highland gillie. ARNOLD } ....................................... Household servants. RITSON SIR HERPES ZOSTER, M.D. .................. A celebrated physician. SIR GRABSON JOBBS, Q.C. ....…
…ill warld after a’ ! Greumoch wad be slow wi’ sic ill news, an’ she wull maun haste. Weel, weel ! Exit hastily. SCENE VII MOLLY, outside Tyson’s Cottage. Moonrise. MOLLY TYSON. O there is edged the waning moon Out of the hollow of Sty Head Pass ! Gable is grander for the gloom. Lingmell is silver ! Ah, the bloom Of the rose of night ; oh, dulcet tune Of the dew falling on the grass ! I am the veritable Queen Of Night : my king is hither bound. A moment and he comes — oh, breast ! Heave if thou wilt ! — such stir is rest. He comes, ah ! steals t…
… So ? Why the deception ? SIR GRABSON J. A Jesuit, no doubt ! But about Lady Percivale now ? SIR HERPES Z. Better and better. Old Farmer Tyson, luckily enough, as it turned out, insisted on examination; and no less than twenty-three skilled surgeons — all men of note ! — declared her to be virgo intacta. SIR GRABSON J. Eh ? What ? SIR HERPES Z. You see, Englishmen — ah ! SIR GRABSON J. Er—ah ? SIR HERPES Z. Ah !
…his to remember by. He shoots Carruthers in the leg. MOLLY. Oh, Percy, Percy, am I not your love ? SIR PERCY. I am sorry, heartily, Miss Tyson. MOLLY. O ! SIR PERCY. I did indeed speak foolishly. ANGELA, aside. Your purse !
…bring her to me ; No marriage dreamy ; Identity, love ! He looks up, Stay ! In the wood By the waterway, stands A delicate fairy ! Molly Tyson is discovered. I’ll steal from above, Watch her. How good ! How sweet of her hands ! How dainty and airy ! How perfect, how kind ! How bright in her thoughts ! How subtle, refined, The least light of her mind ! Let me approach ! O fear ! O sorrow ! I fear to encroach. Scree-king, I borrow Thy frown, thy pride, Thy magical targe. To her side I glide, To the mystical marge Of this lake enchaunted.
60 WHY JESUS WEPT. I am to do some business—aha ! some rather pleasant business. There ! there ! (Enter Molly Tyson.) MOLLY. O ! Sir Percy ! My lord, could you not have told me of this ? GLENSTRAE. Now, your condition ! MOLLY. Sir Percy, do you, can you love me ? You promised to love me for ever. SIR PERCY. Who is this woman ? I am weary of these women. MOLLY. Sir, sir, acknowledge me. You know not what hangs on it — my honour even ! GLENSTRAE. A speech of this breed is not in the bond — but let it pass. There ! there ! MOLLY. Sir, I beseech yo…
50 WHY JESUS WEPT. SCENE IX Enter THE MARQUIS OF GLENSTRAE, Outside Tyson’s Cottage. GLENSTRAE. Here, then, lives the pretty piece of goods Angela wrote me of. (Molly appears at doorway.) Ah ! my pretty lass, can you give a poor old man a glass of milk ? MOLLY. Yes, sir, I will fetch you one. Pray you, set you down awhile. (He sits down. She goes.) GLENSTRAE. Ugh ! Ugh ! This rheumatism at me again. I wish I had left the business to Arthur. — But there, there, one never knows. (Molly comes in with the milk.) There, there ! what have you been cr…
…. A bargain’s a bargain — but there ! there ! — what are you growling at ? A thousand a year and a flat in Mayfair is better than farmer Tyson’s butter and eggs.
… go.) GLENSTRAE, to footman. Wait ! (To Sir Percy.) would you tell her so ? SIR PERCY. If I deigned speech. GLENSTRAE. Simmons, ask Miss Tyson to step here for a moment. (Exit servant.) After which I shall leave you for an hour, my boy.
…WHY JESUS WEPT. Behind, and for this reason not previously observed by the vigilant eye of the reader, are Sir Percy Percivale and Molly Tyson. Near the ‘ Lord’s Table ’ a brother is standing and praying ; he intersperses his prayer with repeated ‘ you know’s, like the Cairene bore in Marryat’s novel. I AGÉD SISTER, sotto voce. Yes ! it’s all so blesséd and romantic, my dear, thank the Lord ! They were both brought to Jesus on one night, Ascen- sion Day, as the poor PaganI bodies call it, through the minis- tration of Mr. Hogwash, the Baptist m…