_Dennis._ Murder and Irish! An’ will they wake yez afterwards?
_Dennis._ Divil a bit do I know, onyhow. Fasthen the door.
_Wiggins._ But they know a secret entrance.
_Dennis._ Then fasthen the gate and throw the kay down the well.
_Wiggins._ No, no! (_Fingers heard outside crying._) Who is that?
_Dennis_ (_going to door, L._) It’s Major Fingers in trouble. (_Enter Major Fingers, L., rubbing his eyes and bawling. Exit Dennis, L._)
_Major._ Oh, dear! Doctor, what shall I do?--what shall I do? I went home and took a dose of your Great Elixir, and then, oh, dear! I was a goin’ to take another, when “Vene,” sh-sh-she took it away from me and th-th-threw it out of the window, and then boxed my ears. What shall I do?--what shall I do?
_Major._ So I will, see if I don’t. I’ll never sleep, drink, eat-- (_spies doctor’s lunch on table_). Hallo! what’s that? (_Seizes lunch._) Cake, oh, my! (_Stuffs it into his mouth._)
_Wiggins._ Come, come, sir, that’s my lunch.
_Major._ Can’t you allow me a little comfort after I’ve been abused by “Vene”? (_Continues eating. Enter Dennis, L., hurriedly._)
_Dennis._ Oh, murder, murder! Here’s a row. Here’s a shindy. Doctor, you’re a dead man.
_Wiggins._ Oh, Lord! What’s the matter now?
_Dennis._ Mr. Freedley, who took the prescription this morning, took the Great Elixir, and then was took crazy intirely. He’s left his house, and his friends have jist been here after him.
_Dennis._ Because he’s raving about the doctor, and swearing he’ll have his life.
_Wiggins._ Oh, horror! What’s to be done? Oh, that infernal Elixir!
_Charles_ (_outside, L._). Where is he? Where is the destroyer of my peace?
_Wiggins._ Here comes the madman. (_Gets R. Dennis runs behind the table, seizing the carving-knife. Major Fingers crawls under the table with the lunch. Enter Charles, L., in pantaloons and white shirt, with a sheet draped about his body. A wreath of straw “à la King Lear” on his head, his face whitened._)
_Charles_ (_gesticulating wildly_). There he is! Grinning demon, why do you defy me? (_makes a dash at Wiggins, who escapes to L._)
_Wiggins._ Please, sir, I don’t know. I am an unfortunate man.
_Charles._ Liar! You have robbed me of that which time can never restore.