Fin. Faith, that I will.
Dan. And I’ll take Smellin’ Bottle. (They take Greenbax and Hartshorn by the arm, who struggle and protest.)
Green. (To Hardhead, who comes down.) This is an outrage. I call upon you to protect me.
Hard. Hey?
Harts. Yes, yes; pwotect me, pwotect me!
Hard. Hey?
Fin. Bedad! that ould gint is like a horse; he’s full of hay!
Dan. Now we’ll be down town in a jiffy. Come on.
Enter Trumps, R.
Trumps. What’s the meaning of this?