Dennis. Faix, you don't mane it. Rob an Irishman of his right to pay his rispicts to a high-born lady uv his own counthry?
Dr. A. Do you see that door?
Dennis. Faix, I'm not blind.
Dr. A. Then get the other side of it at once. (Takes cane.) I've had enough of "The Duchess of Dublin."
Dennis. Is that so? Thin I'm the b'y to take her off ye's hands.
Dr. A. Will you leave this house?
Dennis. To be sure I will, afther I've seen her grace.
Dr. A. (rushes at him with cane). O, you will have it—will you?
Dennis (backing to door). Aisy, docther; I want none uv ye's medicine. But I'll say the duchess, so I will, wid ye's lave or widout it.
[Exit, L.