Will. No such thing. Don’t play sneak, Hen. I did it, old man, to uphold the honor of the family.
John. Will Nutter, you’re drunk.
Will. Drunk yourself, you old fool. O, I ain’t afraid of you. I’ve been tied to your leather apron long enough. Now I’m going to see the world. D’ye hear that, old man? No more pegs for me. You can have the little brown jug to yourself now. I’ve had a taste of something better—something stronger. It’s roused the man in me. So I’m off. Good by.
Enter Mary, L. with water. She runs to Ned, and Jarius and she try to revive Ned.
John. Stop, Will Nutter. If you leave this place now, you can never return to it.
Will. That’s all right—just the sort. Don’t want to see it again. Hope you’ll live long and prosper, and, when you die, leave a nice little fortune to yours, truly. Good by.
Douglas. Don’t mind him, sir. I’ll take care of him. You see how he is. Come, Will. (Drags him to the door, C.)
Will. I say, old man, I’m off to fame and fortune.
John. Fame and fortune? Disgrace and infamy! Will, I’ll give you one more chance. Return to your bench, and all shall be forgotten. Leave this place now, and its doors shall never be opened to you again, though you were dying on the doorstep. Choose now, and choose quickly.