BEL. My husband is dead?
TOI. Alas! yes; the poor soul is gone.
BEL. Are you quite certain?
TOI. Quite certain. Nobody knows of it yet. I was all alone here when
it happened. He has just breathed his last in my arms. Here, just look
at him, full-length in his chair.
BEL. Heaven be praised. I am delivered from a most grievous burden.
How silly of you, Toinette, to be so afflicted at his death.
TOI. Ah! Ma'am, I thought I ought to cry.
BEL. Pooh! it is not worth the trouble. What loss is it to anybody,
and what good did he do in this world? A wretch, unpleasant to
everybody; of nauseous, dirty habits; always a clyster or a dose of
physic in his body. Always snivelling, coughing, spitting; a stupid,
tedious, ill-natured fellow, who was for ever fatiguing people and
scolding night and day at his maids and servants.
TOI. An excellent funeral oration!
BEL. Toinette, you must help me to carry out my design; and you may
depend upon it that I will make it worth your while if you serve me.
Since, by good luck, nobody is aware of his death, let us put him into
his bed, and keep the secret until I have done what I want. There are
some papers and some money I must possess myself of. It is not right
that I should have passed the best years of my life with him without
any kind of advantage. Come along, Toinette, first of all, let us take
all the keys.
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