Gentlemen of the Jury - George Baker

Gentlemen of the Jury A Farce

FOR MALE CHARACTERS ONLY

Peleg Precise, Foreman. Job Timorous, Jacob Doubtful, Abel Strongfist, Jarvis Jolly, Solomon Snowball, Dennis ORourke, Nathan Short, Enos Paunch, Brazen Blower, Peter Punster, Simeon Slow, Jurors.

Timorous. Good gracious! were locked in! (Rushes across stage to R.) Here, officer! officer!

Slow (at extreme R., catching Timorous by arm, and swinging him round). Stop that. Its all right, you know.

Timorous. No, I dont. Im afraid of fire

Punster (swinging him round to next man). What er that?

Timorous. And subject to fits

Blower (ditto). Youre no fit juror.

Timorous. I must have air

Paunch (ditto). Where air you, now?

Timorous. Or smother

Short (ditto). Take him to his mother.

Timorous. What do you call this treatment?

ORourke (ditto). The movement cure, bedad.

Timorous. Its outrageous

Snowball (ditto). Das a fac, das a fac, honey.

Timorous. Diabolical

Jolly (ditto). Ha, ha! now you go agin.

Timorous. Infamous!

Strongfist (ditto). Move on, stupid.

Timorous. I wont stand it.

Doubtful (pushes him into chair). Then sit down.

Precise (at table). Gentlemen, be seated. (All sit.) Before we discuss the case with which we have been intrusted, perhaps we had better take a vote.

Short. My idea exactly.

ORourke. Begorra, lets take something cowld.

Precise. We have been instructed to bring a verdict, Guilty or not guilty. Please write your verdict. Here are slips of paper. (Passes them round. All write, some on the table, some on chairs; Snowball writes his against the wall.)

ORourke (approaches Snowball). Whist! I say, dye write Guilty wid a G or a J?

Snowball. Ob course not. Write him wid a pencil so.

ORourke. O, be jabbers! Its yerselfs a heathen you ignoramus.

Precise. Now, gentlemen, if you are ready. (Collects votes, spreads them on table, and assorts.)

Timorous. I want a glass of water Im faint.

Strongfist. Shut up. Dont disturb the meeting.

ORourke. Bedad, its a glass eye yell be wantin if yer do.

Punster. His eye waters at the thought.

Precise. Gentlemen, the vote stands, six Guilty, six Not guilty.

Jolly. Hallo, a clean cut!

Short. Six mules in the crowd, certain.

ORourke. A majority on both sides, dye mind.

Snowball. Major who? Major who? Dar aint no sogers here, hey, I ax you?

Precise. Well, gentlemen, theres work before us; and, that we may know each other, I propose that those who voted guilty take seats on the right, those who voted not guilty, on the left.

Short. Good. Im for the right.

Jolly. I feel decidedly guilty.

Slow. And so do I.

Strongfist. Right face. March!

ORourke. Begorra, captain, Ill train in that company. (They all pass to R. as they speak. Doubtful, Timorous, Snowball, Paunch, Punster, and Blower pass to L.)

Punster. Though on the left, were in the right.

Paunch. Well, look here, Im getting hungry. Aint we going to have our dinner?

Blower. Youre always thinking of eating.

Snowball. By golly, das a fac. Dat ar Mr. Punch hab an appetite like an earthquake.

Paunch. Bah! what do you know about it? Well, wake me up when youre through. (Tips his chair back against wall, throws his handkerchief over his face, and falls asleep.)

Snowball. Dar, de old man gwine for Morphine.

Precise. My vote was Guilty, and of course I belong with the party on the right.

ORourke. Thrue for yez, honey; and yell find it the party thats always right, jist.

Snowball. Hold yer hush, hold yer hush!

ORourke. Vats that, ye heathen? Id jist like to pound that thick pate till I had yer spachless so I would. Begorra, yed cry Guilty then.

Timorous. O, come, lets have peace.

ORourke. Pace, is it? Yeve had a pace of my mind, onyhow.

Precise. No quarrelling, gentlemen. The quicker we decide this case the better. The government has charged one Peter Popgun with an attempt to defraud the revenue of the manufacturers tax on gunpowder. Its secret agents, suspecting said Popgun, made a descent upon his establishment, which is a country store, seized certain articles, such as saltpetre, sulphur, and charcoal, which they found in a certain little back shop, said articles being, in their opinion, used by said Popgun in the manufacture of gunpowder. The said Popgun denies the manufacture of gunpowder, and sets up a defence that the said articles are used by him in concocting a certain patent medicine, known as the Medical Dead Shot. Evidence has been produced on both sides. We have been charged to bring in a verdict on the evidence alone. I am quite convinced, by the testimony, that said Popgun did manufacture gunpowder, and evade the tax. Still, I should like to hear a free expression of opinion.

All (jumping up). Mr. Foreman.

Precise. Stop, stop. One at a time.

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