All, all; their cause
Is fallen flat; but go you on and see
How
wonderly
their proud heads are elate.
Lascelle Abercrombie
_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.
