George Bernard Shaw a penn State Electronic Classics Series Publication

more rudely) You’ve got up the solemnity of the occasion, as
you call it, to impress the people with your own dignity—
Handel’s music and a clergyman to make murder look like
piety! Do you suppose I am going to help you? You’ve asked
me to choose the rope because you don’t know your own
trade well enough to shoot me properly. Well, hang away
and have done with it.
SWINDON 
(to the chaplain). Can you do nothing with him,
Mr. Brudenell?
CHAPLAIN
. I will try, sir. (Beginning to read) Man that is

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GB Shaw
born of woman hath—
RICHARD 
(fixing his eyes on him). “Thou shalt not kill.”
The book drops in Brudenell’s hands.
CHAPLAIN 
(confessing his embarrassment). What am I to
say, Mr. Dudgeon?
RICHARD
. Let me alone, man, can’t you?
BURGOYNE 
(with extreme urbanity). I think, Mr. Brudenell,
that as the usual professional observations seem to strike Mr.
Dudgeon as incongruous under the circumstances, you had
better omit them until—er—until Mr. Dudgeon can no
longer be inconvenienced by them. (Brudenell, with a shrug,
shuts his book and retires behind the gallows.) You seem in a
hurry, Mr. Dudgeon.
RICHARD 
(with the horror of death upon him). Do you think
this is a pleasant sort of thing to be kept waiting for? You’ve
made up your mind to commit murder: well, do it and have
done with it.
BURGOYNE
. Mr. Dudgeon: we are only doing this—
RICHARD
. Because you’re paid to do it.
SWINDON
. You insolent— (He swallows his rage.)
BURGOYNE 
(with much charm of manner). Ah, I am really
sorry that you should think that, Mr. Dudgeon. If you knew
what my commission cost me, and what my pay is, you would
think better of me. I should be glad to part from you on
friendly terms.
RICHARD
. Hark ye, General Burgoyne. If you think that I
like being hanged, you’re mistaken. I don’t like it; and I don’t
mean to pretend that I do. And if you think I’m obliged to
you for hanging me in a gentlemanly way, you’re wrong there
too. I take the whole business in devilish bad part; and the
only satisfaction I have in it is that you’ll feel a good deal
meaner than I’ll look when it’s over. (He turns away, and is
striding to the cart when Judith advances and interposes with
her arms stretched out to him. Richard, feeling that a very little
will upset his self-possession, shrinks from her, crying) What are
you doing here? This is no place for you. (She makes a gesture
as if to touch him. He recoils impatiently.) No: go away, go
away; you’ll unnerve me. Take her away, will you?
JUDITH
. Won’t you bid me good-bye?
RICHARD 
(allowing her to take his hand). Oh good-bye,
good-bye. Now go—go—quickly. (She clings to his hand—
will not be put off with so cold a last farewell—at last, as he

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66
The Devil’s Disciple
tries to disengage himself, throws herself on his breast in agony.)
SWINDON 
(angrily to the sergeant, who, alarmed at Judith’s
movement, has come from the back of the square to pull her
back, and stopped irresolutely on finding that he is too late).
How is this? Why is she inside the lines?
SERGEANT 
(guiltily). I dunno, sir. She’s that artful can’t
keep her away.
BURGOYNE
. You were bribed.
SERGEANT 
(protesting). No, Sir—
SWINDON 
(severely). Fall back. (He obeys.)
RICHARD 
(imploringly to those around him, and finally to