MESSENGER. Considering your opportunities, you are the basest, the most selfish of men. HORACE. My opportunities? MESSENGER. In your house is one whose impulses are fully half unselfish, the maid Minnie. You couldn’t spare one evening to make her happy. HORACE. She took such a narrow view. MESSENGER. Shame on you! Shame! Then there is your aunt—— HORACE. Oh, she is awfully narrow, too. MESSENGER. Silence! HORACE. If you’d lived in the house as long as I have with Aunt—— MESSENGER. Silence! Too lazy to call a cab. HORACE. You don’t make any allowance. MESSENGER. You deserve none. Again, there was that poor unfortunate who in a weak moment confided to you his life’s tragedy. HORACE. You can’t make me responsible for that dirty tramp’s condition. MESSENGER. You might have saved him. You would have been blessed a thousandfold if you had. HORACE. How do you mean? MESSENGER. In what a hideous Pretence you live. There, before you, stood a man of genius. You drove him out to die. An Inventor perishing in the hey-day of Invention-Worship. HORACE. Do you really think that fellow’s ideas are good for anything? MESSENGER. You a man of science! You know nothing at all. There is more in his little finger than your whole body. HORACE. Look here. If you’ll guarantee him—and with your inside knowledge of things generally—I might hunt him up to-morrow and set him going. MESSENGER. You will? HORACE. Yes. Of course, you do guarantee him? MESSENGER. For whose benefit would you do this? HORACE. I should expect to come in, of course— MESSENGER. Hypocrite! Beyond belief hypocrite! You train your dogs with hunger and a whip. It seems I must try that system upon you. Get up! HORACE. What are you going to do now? MESSENGER. You must come with me. HORACE. Not out into the snow? MESSENGER. Yes, into the snow and the night. HORACE. Do let me explain. The fact is I am in rather a delicate state of health, and if I were to venture out on a night like this, the consequences might be most serious. MESSENGER. You are wasting your breath. Come. HORACE. You can’t really mean it? MESSENGER. I do. HORACE. You will let me put on my coat and hat? MESSENGER. Put them on. We may find them useful. Hurry! HORACE. (_Putting on his coat and muffler slowly_) You don’t give me time. MESSENGER. Make haste, I say. HORACE. I’m not starting out with any comfort at all. I really don’t think I should be wise to venture out to-night. It is so very sharp outside. MESSENGER. Do you hear me? Come! HORACE. No. I’m damned if I do! (_MESSENGER raises his arm, and again HORACE is electrified and the furniture thrown into a commotion. HORACE sinks to his knees in front of MESSENGER in terror._) I’ll come! I’ll come! MESSENGER. On to your schooling! (_MESSENGER leading HORACE away._) CURTAIN ACT II (_The Dream Continues._)