VICAR. No, ten thousand times, no! The sacrifice is too much! ROBERT. You call that sacrifice?--It's fun: not 'arf! VICAR. I had rather see the church itself . . . ROBERT. What, you call yourself a clergyman! VICAR. I call myself nothing: I _am_ nothing--less than nothing in all this living world! ROBERT. By God, but I call myself summat--I'M THE _DRAIN-MAN_, THAT'S WOT I AM! VICAR [feverishly]. You shall not go! . . . ROBERT. Why, wot is there to fear? Ain't it worth while, to move away that load o' muck! VICAR. The stench--the horror--the darkness . . . ROBERT. What's it matter, if the comrides up above 'av' light an' joy an' a breath of 'olesome air to sing by? . . . VICAR. Hour by hour--dying--alone . . . ROBERT. The comrides up in the spans an arches, joinin' 'ands . . . VICAR. Fainter and fainter, below there, and at last--an endless silence! . . . ROBERT. 'Igh in the dome, the 'ammerin's of the comrides as 'av' climbed aloft! AUNTIE. William, there is yet one other way! . . . VICAR. Yes, yes, I see: I see! . . . [To ROBERT]. Then--you mean to go? ROBERT. By 'Eaven, yus! VICAR. Then, by God and all the powers of grace, you shall not go alone! Off with these lies and make-believes! Off with these prisoner's shackles! They cramp, they stifle me! Freedom! Freedom! This is no priest's work--it calls for a man! . . . [He tears off his parson's coat and collar, casting them furiously aside. He rolls up his sleeves.] Now, if you're ready, Comrade: you and I together! AUNTIE. God's might go with you, William! Accept him, Christ! [There is a silence. Then ROBERT speaks with slow consideration.] ROBERT. I--don't--know. It's dangerous, you understand! VICAR. I go with you. ROBERT. This ain't psalms an 'ymns an' ole maids' tea-parties, mind you! It may mean typhoid! VICAR. I understand. ROBERT. Rats. VICAR. Yes. ROBERT. They don't leave you alone: they got teeth, remember--poison in 'em! VICAR. I will go with you. [A slight pause. Then ROBERT, dropping into a quite ordinary tone, says.] ROBERT. Then let's 'av' summat so eat, an' get along. There's nuthin' more to say. MARY [inspired]. Yes, there is! ROBERT. What do you mean, miss? MARY. I mean that I understand: that I know who you are. ROBERT. Me? . . . MARY [simply]. Yes, you are my father. ROBERT. 'Ow the everlastin' did you know that? MARY [going up to him]. Because you are my wish come true: because you are brave, because you are very beautiful, because you are good! ROBERT. My little kid! My little kid! [They embrace each other.] VICAR. Robert! [Taking his left hand]. AUNTIE. Brother! [Taking his other hand.] [They form a kind of cross.] [MANSON and ROGERS re-enter with table-cloth, etc., for lunch.] MANSON. Come along, Rogers. Take that end.