Dingle.—What right had he to mention my name?
Squire.—You are a masked knight—how should he know you are the champion of one Dingle?
Dingle (Aside).—What a donkey I have made of myself. (Aloud) Gentlemen, there is a blunder here. Mr. Monk, I ask your pardon (Sheathes his sword). I apologize.
[Enter Mrs. Felton D. F. She pauses C.]
Squire.—Gentlemen, you’ve raised the dead with your noise. Look!
Weatherspout.—Beg pardon, sir?
Leslie.—Were you addressing me?
Dingle.—What did you observe, sir?
Squire.—I say it is a shame when even spirits cannot rest.
[All look at each other for explanation.]