MRS. DEEGAN. Lord save us! [_Lays down tray._] Wake up and take this cup of tea. [_Pause._] Wake up. [_She glances nervously about the kitchen, then goes through DAISY’S bag and finds it empty. She calls PATRICK from the bar._] PATRICK [_coming in_]. What’s wrong here?... Did you dose them? MRS. DEEGAN. Not so loud--you fool! PATRICK. It would be no harm to see what ould Daisy has in the bag.... MRS. DEEGAN. For shame, man! Would you stoop to such a thing? PATRICK. I’d stoop to anything this minute.... Take away that tray. _MRS. DEEGAN goes out with the tray, and PATRICK goes through DAISY’S bag._ Not a rupee, by Mozes! _O’HAGAN, PAUL and DAN come in from the bar._ O’HAGAN [_document in hand_]. What’s the matter? Are they drunk or sleeping? PATRICK. They’re both. They killed a whole bottle of spacial whiskey. _MRS. DEEGAN comes in._ O’HAGAN. I want his signature to this paper. MRS. DEEGAN. Granda’s not in a fit condition to sign any paper. PATRICK. Now, Hagan, I know and you know what’s in that paper. You’d lay me out on the street. _OLD DEEGAN wakes up and sits, listening._ O’HAGAN. I can’t help that, Patrick. PAUL. Give me room to speak a word.... Mr. O’Hagan, you live straight across the street, and many a bright pound Patrick Deegan has sent your way in the last twenty years. Is that right? O’HAGAN. Quite right. Many a pound indeed. PAUL. And many another he could throw your way in the next twenty years. Is that so? O’HAGAN. Quite true. PAUL. Now, I make bould to say that you’ve no sympathy with your moribund client marrying on the edge of the grave and robbing his own childer? O’HAGAN. I certainly don’t think it’s right. PAUL. Then it’s your duty to stop the match. Your duty to your client, to your neighbour, and yourself. And Patrick Deegan will make it worth your while both now and now-after. PATRICK. Paul, I know you’re a smart man, but I can’t see what you’re driving at. PAUL. No, God help you altogether, you’re a dull lot. Why, James Deegan, in his present state of coma, will sign one paper as fast as another--if his hand is properly held--and I suggest, Mr. O’Hagan, that we assign the farm to Dan and the pub. to Patrick. PATRICK [_grabs PAUL’S hand_]. My life on you, ould Dublin! MRS. DEEGAN. Yes, Paul Twyning has a head on him. He’s not all splutter and nonsense. PAUL. Now, Mr. O’Hagan, what do you say to it? Deegan brothers will give you ten pounds apiece. MRS. DEEGAN. Patrick will give twenty and Dan thirty. PAUL. Fifty pounds, Mr. O’Hagan. No lawyer since the Stone Age ever refused fifty pounds. O’HAGAN. Then I’ll be first to gain the distinction. I disapprove of James Deegan’s plans, but that’s his own affair. I won’t sell my old client in his sleep. DEEGAN [_yawns_]. Thank you, Mr. O’Hagan. You’re your father’s son.