The Wit & Wisdom of Discworld - By Terry Pratchett Page 0,73
me. Needs some medicine.’
‘Why’s he unconscious?’ said the doctor.
‘Didn’t want to take his medicine.’
*
Apart from the curfew and manning the gates, the Night Watch didn’t do a lot. This was partly because they were incompetent, and partly because no one expected them to be anything else. They walked the streets, slowly, giving anyone dangerous enough time to saunter away or melt into the shadows, and then rang the bell to announce to a sleeping world, or at any rate a world that had been asleep, the fact that all was, despite appearances, well. They also rounded up the quieter sort of drunk and the more docile kinds of stray cattle.
‘What’re you going to charge our man with, sarge?’ said Sam.
‘Attempted assault on a copper. You saw the knives.’
You did kick him, though.’
‘Right, I forgot. We’ll do him for resisting arrest, too.’
Dr Lawn put the tweezers down and pinched the bridge of his nose. ‘That’s it,’ he said, wearily. ‘A bit of stitching and he’ll be fine.’
‘And there’s some others I need you to take a look at,’ said Vimes.
‘You know, that comes as no surprise,’ said the doctor.
‘One’s got a lot of holes in his feet, one dropped through the privy roof and has got a twisted leg, and one’s dead.’
‘I don’t think I can do much about the dead one,’ said the doctor. ‘How do you know he’s dead? I realize that I may regret asking that question.’
‘He’s got a broken neck from falling off a roof and I reckon he fell off because he got a steel crossbow bolt in his brain.’
‘Ah. That sounds like dead, if you want my medical opinion. Did you do it?’
‘No!’
‘Well, you’re a busy man, sergeant. You can’t be everywhere.’
*
‘I understand, Havelock, that you scored zero in your examination for stealthy movement.’
‘May I ask how you found that out, madam?’
‘Oh, one hears things,’ Madam said lightly.
‘Well, it was true,’ said the Assassin.
‘And why was this?’
‘The examiner thought I’d used trickery, madam.’
‘And did you?’
‘Of course. I thought that was the idea.’
‘And you never attended his lessons, he said.’
‘Oh, I did. Religiously’
‘He says he never saw you at any of them.’
Havelock smiled. ‘And your point, madam, is … ?’
*
Vimes turned his back and faced the crowd. He said, ‘Anything’s a weapon, used right. Your bell is a club. Anything that pokes the other man hard enough to give you more time is a good thing. Never, ever threaten anyone with your sword unless you really mean it, because if he calls your bluff you suddenly don’t have many choices and they’re all the wrong ones. Don’t be frightened to use what you learned when you were kids. We don’t get marks for playing fair. And for close-up fighting, as your senior sergeant I explicitly forbid you to investigate the range of coshes, blackjacks and brass knuckles sold by Mrs Goodbody at No. 8 Easy Street, at a range of prices to suit all pockets, and should any of you approach me privately I absolutely will not demonstrate a variety of specialist blows suitable for these useful yet tricky instruments.’
*
Sometimes the principles behind a glorious revolution don’t stand much close examination.
‘I’ve got a question,’ said someone in the crowd of onlookers. ‘Harry Supple’s my name. Got a shoe shop in New Cobblers …’
‘Yes, comrade Supple?’
‘It says here in article seven of this here list—’ Mr Supple ploughed on.
‘—People’s Declaration of the Glorious Twenty-fourth of May’ said Reg.
‘Yeah, yeah, right … well, it says we’ll seize hold of the means of production, sort of thing, so what I want to know is, how does that work out regarding my shoe shop? I mean, I’m in it anyway, right? It’s not like there’s room for more’n me and my lad Garbut and maybe one customer.’
‘Ah, but after the revolution all property will be held in common by the people … er … that is, it’ll belong to you but also to everyone else, you see?’
Comrade Supple looked puzzled. ‘But I’ll be the one making the shoes?’
‘Of course. But everything will belong to the people.’
‘So … who’s going to pay for the shoes?’ said Mr Supple.
‘Everyone will pay a reasonable price for their shoes and you won’t be guilty of living off the sweat of the common worker,’ said Reg, shortly. ‘Now, if we—’
‘You mean the cows?’ said Supple.
‘What?’
‘Well, there’s only the cows, and the lads at the tannery, and frankly all they do is stand in a field all day, well, not the tannery boys, obviously, but—’