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Page 25
_Katrina_.
But a mere peep at them?
_Jean_.
Yes, come on, Mary.
_Mary_.
We might just see how horrible they are.
_Jean_.
Sure, they will make us shudder;
_Katrina_.
Or else cry.
[_A_ MAN _meets them_.
_Man_.
Are you for the show, my girls?
_Jean_.
We aren't your girls.
_Katrina_.
Do you mean the heads upon the Scottish Gate?
_Man_.
Ay, that's the show, a pretty one.
_Jean_.
Are all
The rebels' heads set up?
_Man_.
All, all; their cause
Is fallen flat; but go you on and see
How wonderly their proud heads are elate.
_Katrina_.
Do any look as if they died afeared?
_Man_.
Go and learn that yourselves. And when you mark
How grimly addled all the daring is
Now in those brains, do as your hearts shall bid you,
And that is weep, I hope.
_Mary_.
O let's go back.
_Jean_.
We have no friends spiked on the Scottish Gate.
_Man_.
No? Well, there's quite a quire of voices there,
Blessing the King's just wisdom for his stern
Strong policy with the rebels.
_Mary_.
Who are those?--
I think it's fiendish to have killed so many.
_Man_.
The chattering birds, my lass, and droning flies:
They're proper Whigs, are birds and flies,--or else
The Whigs are proper crows and carrion-bugs.
[_He goes on past them_.
_Katrina_.
A Jacobite?
_Jean_.
That's it, I warrant you.
One of the stay-at-homes.
_Mary_.
Now promise me,
We'll only take a glimpse, girls, a short glimpse.
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