[He stops short on seeing Mrs. Granahan who stands glaring at him arms akimbo.] Your pardon madam. You are the mistress I take it of this most noble and hospitable house. MRS. GRANAHAN. [Ignoring him and going to centre of floor where she looks angrily at William John Granahan who endeavours to appear unconcerned.] You should be well ashamed of yourself William John Granahan. What will they say about you in the Session I wonner next Sabbath day. D'you think my house is a home for all the dirt and scum of the country side? TRAMP. Your pardon madam. You owe me an apology. Appearances belie me but scum I am not. I was at one time the well known and justly famous leader of the Blue Bohemian Wind and String-- MRS. GRANAHAN. Wind and string fiddlesticks. Out you go. Out you will go. I want no tramps in here upsettin' my house and makin' it the talk of the neighbours. Out you go at once. TRAMP. [With drunken pride.] I thrust my company on no man or woman uninvited. MRS. GRANAHAN. Out you go. I want no excuses. Put him out of this Samuel James. [Samuel James eludes his mother's eye and beckons the tramp to stay on.] The drunken wretch comin' in here. A nice place you'd have it William Granahan with your fine company. WILLIAM JOHN GRANAHAN. I brought him home here as a tarr'ble and awful warnin' to Robbie John what this sort of an occupation brings a man till. Yon see him Robbie John. There's you're great fiddlin' for you. Be warned in time. ROBBIE JOHN. [The tramp moves to the door. Robbie John rises and goes across to him and taps him on the shoulder.] Here. [Slips him money.] God bless you poor wanderin' soul and God forbid any Granahan should ever be treated as you have been. TRAMP. Sir, I thank you. [Coming back to him and confidentially.] Perhaps I could yet please your ears with a romanza which I composed myself-- MRS. GRANAHAN. Away with you out of this. We want none of your music here. SAMUEL JAMES. [To tramp.] Why don't you give up playin' that fiddle of yours and turn your hand to honest work? TRAMP. [Proudly.] Desert my fiddle. The fiddle presented to me at Vienna by my orchestra! A genuine old Cremona 200 years old! Rather would I wander in Hades for ever. Never! Though cruel words stab and wound me. [Half sobbing.] Farewell.