FAST. (L.) Yes, my charmer, I am here! Don't be afraid!
MRS. BOBBINS. (_astonished_) What do you mean, sir?
FAST. Come, come, don't let there be any more of this prudery. I'm sure you'll give me the preference--you wouldn't make a comparison between a young fellow like me and such an old Guy Fawkes as Bobbins?
MRS. BOBBINS. How dare you, sir, speak of my husband in this disrespectful manner?
FAST. Your husband! Come, come, that's a little too good, Constantia. _I know all about that._
MRS. BOBBINS. Constantia! You impertinent young man!
FAST. Yes, Constantia--_dear_ Constantia! I doat upon the very ground you tread upon! Now you shall listen to me--
MRS. BOBBINS. (_aside_) Good heavens! my husband!
FAST. (_getting up slowly_) Ah, Bobbins, old fellow! how are you? (_go to L._)
AUGUS. (_in amazement_) Sir, my astonishment knows no bounds.
MRS. BOBBINS. (R.) My dear Augustus, don't for one moment imagine--
AUGUS. Silence, Constantia! (_to FASTMAN_) Will you have the kindness to explain, sir, what the devil you mean by going down upon your knees to my wife?
FAST. What's that to you, I say? She is not your wife!
FAST. You know perfectly well she is not--you ought to be ashamed of yourself.
FAST. And I think you are a confoundedly brassy old fellow to attempt to take a high tone with me, after all that has come to light.
MRS. BOBBINS. Do you suffer him to talk to you like this, Bobbins, without replying? Why don't you speak up, like a man?
AUGUS. Police! It's false! When I married her she was a widow!
FAST. Nonsense, sir, nonsense! Her husband, I tell you, is alive. It was from him that I had the whole of these particulars--the lady herself, I think, will scarcely venture to contradict me.
AUGUS. (_alarmed_) Speak, Constantia--why don't you speak?
MRS. BOBBINS. (_in a state of hysterical excitement_) I shall swoon away! Give me a little air.
AUGUS. Do you suffer him to talk to you like this without replying? Why don't you speak up, like a woman?
MRS. BOBBINS. Call Rebecca--I'm going into hysterics!
AUGUS. She changes colour, and makes no denial! Guilty! guilty! Unhappy bigamist! (_falls into chair, L._)
FAST. (_crossing to C., and going to C. D._) Rebecca! Rebecca!
AUGUS. Oh, Mr. Fastman, you see before you a blighted wretch, with his household goods--gods shivered around him.