And hauled him down—down—down!
And when they asked me where he was,
Like the tempest’s howlings I’d repeat,
“Down—down in hell! ’Twas there I sent him!”
Han. You vould do dot?
Byron. Assuredly.
Han. Mr. Gall, I vill take your vord at you! (Jumps up and seizes Byron.) I pounced him up—up—up! Und vhen dey send me a postal card asking vhere he vos, I repeaded like a dempest howl: “Send him a linen duster, he need it.” [Biz. of struggle. Hannis gets Byron down, and stands on him. Lena rushes forward, sinks on her knees by his side.]
Lena. Spare him, Hannis.
Han. Queen Elizabeth Tilton, interceding for the life of Owen Murphy. [Tableau.
THE END.