ALGERNON.
[Airily.] Oh! I killed Bunbury this afternoon. I mean poor Bunbury died this afternoon.
LADY BRACKNELL.
What did he die of?
ALGERNON.
Bunbury? Oh, he was quite exploded.
LADY BRACKNELL.
Exploded! Was he the victim of a revolutionary outrage? I was not aware that Mr. Bunbury was interested in social legislation. If so, he is well punished for his morbidity.
ALGERNON.
My dear Aunt Augusta, I mean he was found out! The doctors found out that Bunbury could not live, that is what I mean—so Bunbury died.
LADY BRACKNELL.
He seems to have had great confidence in the opinion of his physicians. I am glad, however, that he made up his mind at the last to some definite course of action, and acted under proper medical advice. And now that we have finally got rid of this Mr. Bunbury, may I ask, Mr. Worthing, who is that young person whose hand my nephew Algernon is now holding in what seems to me a peculiarly unnecessary manner?
JACK.
That lady is Miss Cecily Cardew, my ward. [Lady Bracknell bows coldly to Cecily.]
ALGERNON.
I am engaged to be married to Cecily, Aunt Augusta.
LADY BRACKNELL.
I beg your pardon?
CECILY.
Mr. Moncrieff and I are engaged to be married, Lady Bracknell.