Unknown Man [aloud]. Take that jackass away to the devil. He wants to shoot me. And tell the boss that I can't stand it any longer.
Voices. What's that? What boss? He is losing his mind, the poor man.
Tourist. Aleck! Mary! This is a mad scene. Jimmie, you remember Hamlet? Quick.
Unknown Man [angrily]. Tell him my spinal column is broken.
Mary [wearily]. Papa, children, he's beginning to kick with his legs.
Kate. Is that what is called convulsions, papa?
Tourist [rapturously]. I don't know. I think it is. What a tragedy?
Aleck [glumly]. You fool! You keep cramming and cramming and you don't know that the right name for that is agony. And you wear eyeglasses, too. I can't bear it any longer, papa.
Tourist. Think of it, children. A man is about to fall down to his death and he is bothering about his spinal column.
[There is a noise. A man in a white vest, very much frightened, enters, almost dragged by angry tourists. He smiles, bows on all sides, stretches out his arms, now running forward as he is pushed, now trying to escape in the crowd, but is seized and pulled again.]