Mrs. T. (goes up to him and leads him down stage by the ear, then slaps his cheek) Will that convince you?
Todd. Material evidence! I’m wrong! That rap was not a spirit’s. You are my lamented Laura—to whose memory I ordered such a lovely monument to be erected in Kensal Green, that you’ll regret you’re not dead when you see it.
Mrs. T. (R.) Tell me directly, sir—to whom were you speaking?
Todd. (L.) Hush! She’s there. (pointing to door, L. 2 E.)
Mrs. T. Who?
Todd. Marietta.
Mrs. T. Marietta! Ha!—the girl! She was married this evening—to whom?—speak—to whom?
Todd. Forgive me, my beloved Laura.—How shall I tell you—how shall I shock your strict sense of propriety when you hear that your unfortunate Samuel—the husband of your bosom—and the father—I mean the prospective father of your children—is—is—look at me—much injured woman—and behold a perfect specimen of—of—a—
Mrs. T. Monster!
Todd. Monster’s the word! A man with two wives must be a monster; but I’m an innocent monster!