SCOLLARD
No, Mrs. Crilly.

MRS. CRILLY
I have my own battle to fight, and a hard battle it is. 
I have to make bits of myself to mind everything and be prepared for
everything.

SCOLLARD
No doubt, Mrs. Crilly.

MRS. CRILLY
There are people who will blame me, but they cannot see
into my mind.

SCOLLARD
Will you come down to the parlour, Mrs. Crilly?

MRS. CRILLY
Yes, I’ll go down.

  She remains seated, looking out steadily before her.  Myles Gorman
  comes in.  He is dressed in his own clothes.

SCOLLARD
Well, Gorman, what brings you back to the ward?

GORMAN
I just want to do something to my pipes, Master.

SCOLLARD
Very well, Gorman.  You have your discharge, and you are
free to leave.

GORMAN
Oh, in a while I’ll be taking the road.

  He seats himself at the fire and begins to fix the bag of his pipes.

SCOLLARD
Now, Mrs. Crilly, come down to the parlour.

MRS. CRILLY
Yes.

SCOLLARD
Anna is waiting to see you.

MRS. CRILLY
(rising) He will be well cared for here.

SCOLLARD
He will, Mrs. Crilly.  I will give him all attention.

MRS. CRILLY
He expected to be in a different place to-day, but delay
does little harm.

SCOLLARD
Come down to the parlour, Mrs. Crilly, and drink a glass of
wine with us.

They go out.  The door of the Select Ward opens, and Thomas Muskerry appears.  He has got a stroke.  His breathing makes a noise in his mouth.  As he moves he lags somewhat at the right knee.  He carries his right hand at his breast.  He moves slowly across ward.  Felix Tournour enters, carrying a bunch of keys.

TOURNOUR
And where are you going?

MUSKERRY
(in a thickened voice) Ow—­out. (Motioning with left hand. 
He moves across ward, and goes out on door of corridor)

TOURNOUR Well, you’re not getting back to your snuggery, my oul’ cod. (He goes into the Select Ward and begins to pitch Muskerry’s belongings into the outer ward.  First of all come the pillows and clothes off the bed) And there’s your holy picture, and there’s your holy book. (He comes out holding another book in official binding.  He opens it and reads) “Marianne, born May the 20th, 1870.” (He turns back some pages and reads) Thomas Muskerry wrote this, 1850—­

  “In the pleasant month of May,
  When the lambkins sport and play,
    As I roved out for recreation,
  I spied a comely maid,
  Sequestered in the shade,
    And on her beauty I gazed in admiration.”

  “I said I greatly fear
  That Mercury will draw near,
    As once he appeared unto Venus,
  Or as it might have been
  To the Carthaginian Queen,
  Or the Grecian Wight called Polyphemus.”