Theodosia:
Upon his pipe, as low it dangled
Over his vesture so old-fangled.
Second Voice: She likes to forget it. All night Ross bled out his life. A man, he was, what they call life in his body, and then he went out, a slash in his throat.
Theodosia:
And as for what your brain bewilders,
If I can rid your town of rats,
Will you give me a thousand gilders?
Third Voice: Took the trouble to find out about the will. Peeped around and quizzed old Daniels. How now, is old Miss Doe a-leaven her farm? Too bad. Told her the second time he’d had her. Too bad. Left it all to some charity, every cent. Some kind of hospitals away off somewhere, a long way off. In trust to some board.
Theodosia: