GREEN. Hanged for your murder! You don’t mean that?
MRS. G. Yes, I do; we fought in the dark you know—that’s murder—and you’ll be hanged for it—but you don’t mind it.
GREEN. Don’t I though! My good friend, you musn’t think of dying—consider the fatal consequence to me!
MRS. G. Can’t help it—it’s all over with me—good bye—your wife’s an angel—and I—I am—oh!—— (drops her head on his shoulder and feigns to die)
GREEN. Good gracious! What do you mean? Hallo! (shaking her) there’s not a stir in him—he’s dead—dead as the twelve Cæsars. Unfortunate youth! he’s gone to settle his long account, and has left a heavy balance in my hands. What’s to be done now? I know:—I’ll conceal him in the bedroom here (moving towards door R., a scream is heard in room L.) Bless me! what’s that? Something dreadful, I’m sure! Oh, lord, my knees are sinking under me—I havn’t strength to move a step further! (staggers against the easy chair) Ha! this chair—providential thought—I’ll cover him up in it. (he places MRS. G. in the chair, and throws the travelling cloak, which hangs on the back of the chair over her, so as to completely conceal her) Now I’ll make a coroner’s inquest of myself and sit upon the victim’s body! (sits) Hah! what a dreadful position is mine! (another scream in room, L.) There again!
Enter BETSY, with lighted candle, from room, 2 E. L.; stage light.
BETSY. Oh, sir! Mr. Greenfinch are you there?
GREEN. (aside) Which Greenfinch does she mean? him (pointing to MRS. G. behind him) or me? Yes, Betsy, I’m here.
BETSY. Oh, sir! oh, sir! my poor mistress—my poor dear mistress!——