WILLIAM. Aye, the women hate me because they don’t want to love me but they can’t help themselves. The men hate me because once they’ve seen me their women never get wet again unless they’re whispering my name. Everyone hates me.

JAMES. Because you’re so good-looking?

WILLIAM. It’s the main reason, I’m sure of it.

See, what I’m saying is, half the badness that’s said about me, half the wickedness I’m supposed to have done is no wickedness at all. It’s just folk saying, ‘Look at that William Douglas, I hate him, he’s so good-looking.’

(Starts to laugh.) I’m joking, man, can’t you tell?

This wine is shite, why are you insulting me with the shite wine?

JAMES. That’s the best we’ve got.

WILLIAM. It’s shite. You’re trying to poison me.

JAMES. I’m drinking it.

WILLIAM. Because you don’t know it’s shite.

JAMES. I like it.

WILLIAM. Because you’re too stupid to know it’s shite.

JAMES. Everyone else likes it.

WILLIAM. Because they’re all feart to tell you your wine’s shite. Well, I’m no feart.

JAMES. Clearly.

WILLIAM. Christ Almighty, what does it take to make you lose your temper, Jamie?

You used to have a great temper.

Used to be all you had to do was hold something up where you couldn’t reach it.

Holds up food above JAMES’s head.

Come on, Jamie, come on, little Jamie…

JAMES. I grew up, William.

WILLIAM. You’re no fun any more.

JAMES. And you’re an arse.

WILLIAM. You used to like me though.

JAMES. I did. I thought you were great.

So what badness do you think folk are saying about you?

WILLIAM. I don’t know.

The usual.

JAMES. What might they be saying?

WILLIAM. I don’t know! You tell me!

That I’m not doing what our lovely wee King wants me to do.

JAMES. You’re not sending me your taxes.

WILLIAM. Oh listen to you. All grown up and counting money.

What do you care. You’ve got enough, haven’t you? Maybe I just can’t be bothered to gather your money in for you. Maybe I’ve got better things to do.

JAMES. Like killing the men I send to ask after my taxes.

WILLIAM. Oh I only killed one of them!

Like you’ve never murdered a tax collector!?

JAMES. No.

WILLIAM. No, because they’re your tax collectors, but take it from me, Jamie, everyone wants to murder a tax collector.

WILLIAM helps himself to wine.

I’m sorry, Jamie. I’m sorry. I never meant to fall out with you.

JAMES. Then don’t. Let’s fix this. Come on.

A beat.

WILLIAM. You’ve done as bad as me and no one hates you for it.

JAMES. How are you working that out?