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Shaw, George Bernard, 1856-1950

"The Shewing-up of Blanco Posnet"

I'll settle him. And
do you [to the woman] take your sickly face away from in front
of me.
STRAPPER. Just turn your back on her there, will you?
THE WOMAN. God knows I don't want to see her commit murder. [She
folds her shawl over her head].
THE SHERIFF. Now, Miss Evans: cut it short. Was the prisoner the
man you saw this morning or was he not? Yes or no?
FEEMY [a little hysterically] I'll tell you fast enough. Dont
think I'm a softy.
THE SHERIFF [losing patience] Here: weve had enough of this. You
tell the truth, Feemy Evans; and let us have no more of your lip.
Was the prisoner the man or was he not? On your oath?
FEEMY. On my oath and as I'm a living woman--[flinching] Oh God!
he felt the little child's hands on his neck--I cant [bursting
into a flood of tears and scolding at the other woman] It's you
with your snivelling face that has put me off it. [Desperately]
No: it wasn't him. I only said it out of spite because he
insulted me. May I be struck dead if I ever saw him with the
horse!
[Everybody draws a long breath. Dead silence.]
BLANCO [whispering at her] Softy! Cry-baby! Landed like me! Doing
what you never intended! [Taking up his hat and speaking in his
ordinary tone] I presume I may go now, Sheriff.
STRAPPER. Here, hold hard.
THE FOREMAN. Not if we know it, you don't.
THE BOYS [barring the way to the door] You stay where you are.
Stop a bit, stop a bit. Dont you be in such a hurry. Dont let him
go.


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