Sir William.
[Angrily.] Not I. After to-day I wash my hands of ye. What do plays and players do, coming into my head, disturbing my repose! [More composedly, to Tom, who has returned to his side.] Your comedy has merit, sir. You call it Life. There is a character in it—a young man—not unlike life, not unlike a late member of my family. Obleege me with your arm. [To Imogen.] Madam, I have arrived at the conclusion that Miss Trelawny belongs to a set of curious people who in other paths might have been useful members of society. But after to-day I've done with ye—done with ye——[To Tom.]
My box, sir—my box——
[Tom leads Sir William up the stage.]
Tom.
[To O'Dwyer.] Begin rehearsal. Begin rehearsal! Call Miss Trelawny!
[Tom and Sir William disappear.]
O'Dwyer.
Miss Trelawny! Miss Trelawny! [Rushing to the left.] Miss Trelawny! how long am I to stand here shoutin' myself hoarse—? [Rose appears.]