Chapter VI: Act III

SCENE: _A prison. Agatha in her cell. The doors are flung open and the visiting justices troop in, accompanied by the Governor of the prison, the doctor, the chaplain, warders, and our old friend Diggers, the sexton._

FIRST VISITING JUSTICE: Well, what’s this one?

THE GOVERNOR (_curtly_): Perjury. Five years’ penal servitude. Last Assizes.

THE WOMAN SUPERINTENDENT: Sulky little fiend. Won’t speak; and throws her food at the warders.

SECOND VISITING JUSTICE (_addressing Agatha_): Come, come, my girl, you’re doing yourself no good by this kind of thing. (_Addressing the Governor_): Can’t your doctor do anything--or the chaplain?

THE DOCTOR (_in a dry staccato voice_): She’s perfectly healthy--not losing weight--organs in good condition. I can’t do more than keep her fit.

FIRST JUSTICE: Well, the chaplain, then?

THE CHAPLAIN: She’s very hard and unrepentant.

SECOND JUSTICE: Can’t you make her repent?

THE CHAPLAIN (_decidedly_): No. Nor can anyone else.

BOTH JUSTICES (_uneasily_): I see. Yes. (_Addressing the Governor_): Can nothing be done?

THE GOVERNOR: Nothing more. She’s under constant supervision.... There’s a visitor for her with our party; where is he?

DIGGERS (_coming forward_): Here, Sir?

THE GOVERNOR: See if you can persuade her to speak to you.

DIGGERS (_approaching her timidly_): Miss Agatha, Miss Agatha ... won’t you speak to me, old Diggers? (_She pays no attention._) Miss Agatha, I’ve brought you some cowslips from the old glebe be’ind the church. (_Anxiously, to the Governor_): May she ’ave them, Sir?

THE GOVERNOR (_blowing his nose_): Of course. Of course. (_Diggers produces a sorry mess of yellow blossoms._)

DIGGERS: They’re faded, but they’re from the old ’ome.... Won’t you ’ave them, Miss? (_She makes no sign. One of the justices breaks down._)

THE WOMAN SUPERINTENDENT: Now, dearie, take the nice flowers. (_But Agatha pays no attention._)

THE SECOND JUSTICE: Dear, dear, how sad. (_Making a final effort_): My poor young woman, you mustn’t take it so to heart. Your sentence, with good conduct remission, which I presume you mean to earn--though you won’t do so by throwing good food about--your sentence is really quite trivial. (_She suddenly turns her eyes on him, with a baleful glare in them. He stumbles over his words and dries up_): Yes, er, exactly.

THE FIRST JUSTICE (_who is bored_): Well, let’s be getting on. (_They troop out._) It’s a sad case; but of course, Morality--(_his voice dies away_.)

AGATHA (_when they have gone_): Stupid, sentimental humbugs! (_Viciously_): Slugs, worms, uncomprehending BEASTS! (_In impotent fury she whirls round the cell like a dervish, finally throwing herself panting on her mattress._) Morality, indeed! (_She bites a large piece out of the floor._)

THE CURTAIN FALLS.