Messenger. Fine force, the police!
Horace. I was nearly starting a labor riot. Well, that’s what is at the bottom of most of them.
Tramp. (Thoroughly broken) My ideas don’t seem to come to anything any more. I’m a failure, and a bad ’un. I’ve been feeling bad all day, and this has about done for me. (Falls down.)
(Horace goes to him and kneels down to him, trying to rouse him up.)
Horace. Don’t talk like that! It is a splendid idea, and there are plenty more to come out.
Tramp. I only wants burying, Partner, and they’ll have to do that. Damn ’em!
Horace. You must pull yourself together. Marsy, won’t you help him?
Messenger. You can’t make me responsible for that dirty beggar’s condition.
Horace. Ah, don’t mock me! I’m beaten! I give in.
Messenger. If you had your money again, you’d just go your old way, and leave him to die.