Sandy. Hold on: I'm going. But, Jack, I've got a kind of faintness yer, too. (Goes to side-table, and takes up decanter.) And thar's nothing reaches that faintness like whiskey. (Fills glass.) Old Morton (drunkenly and half-consciously from couch). Whiskey—who shed—whiskey—eh? Eh—O—gimme some, Aleck—Aleck, my son,—my son!—my old prodigal—Old Proddy, my boy—gimme—whiskey—(sings)—
Oh, yer's yer good old whiskey,
Drink it down!
Eh? I com—mand you,—pass the whiskey!
SANDY, at first panic-stricken, and then remorsefully conscious, throws glass down, with gesture of fear and loathing. OAKHURST advances to his side hurriedly.
Oakhurst (in hurried whisper). Give him the whiskey, quick! It will keep him quiet. (Is about to take decanter when SANDY seizes it: struggle with OAKHURST.)
Sandy (with feeling). No, no, Jack, no! (Suddenly with great strength and determination, breaks from him, and throws decanter from window.) No, NEVER!
Old Morton (struggling drunkenly to his feet). Eh—who sh'd never? (OAKHURST shoves SANDY in room L., and follows him, closing door.) Eh, Aleck? (Groping.) Eh, where'sh light? All gone. (Lapses on sofa again, after an ineffectual struggle to get up, and then resumes his old attitude.)
(Change scene quickly.)
SCENE 3.—Ante-room in MR. MORTON'S villa. Front scene. Enter DON JOSE CASTRO and CONCHO, preceded by SERVANT, L.
Servant. This way, gentlemen.