_Monks._ Was presented to the PERGAMENTS, who unpacked it, and loaded its branches with toys and tapers; after which Mr. PERGAMENTS, Mrs. P., and all the little PERGAMENTS joined 'ands, and danced round it in light 'arted glee. (_In a sombre tone._) They little knoo as how it was their dance of death! _Lady B._ That knowledge will come! And the beer, MONKSHOOD--you saw it broached? _Monks._ Upon the village green; the mortality is still spreading, it being found impossible to undo the knots in which the victims had tied themselves. The sweetmeats were likewise distributed, and the floor of the hinfant-school now resembles one vast fly-paper. _Lady B._ (_with a touch of remorse_). The children, too! Was not my little ELFIE once an infant? Ah me, ah me! _Elfie_ (_aside_). Once--but that was long, long ago. And, oh, _how_ disappointed I am in poor dear Grandmamma! _Lady B._ MONKSHOOD, you should not have done these things--you should have saved me from myself. You _must_ have known how greatly all this would increase my unpopularity in the neighbourhood. _Monks._ (_sulkily_). And this is my reward for obeying orders! Take care, my Lady. It suits you now to throw me aside like a--(_casting about for an original simile_)--like a old glove, because this innocent grandchild of yours has touched your flinty 'art. But where will _you_ be when she learns----? _Lady B._ (_in agony_). Ah, no, MONKSHOOD, good, faithful MONKSHOOD, she must never know that! Think, MONKSHOOD, you would not tell her that the Grandmother to whom she looks up with such touching, childlike love, was a--_homicide_--you would not do that? _Monks._ Some would say even 'omicide was not too black a name for all you've done. (Lady BELLEDAME _shudders_.) I might tell Miss ELFIE how you've blowed up a live Baronet, corrosive sublimated a gentle Lady, honly for 'aving, in a moment of candour, called you a hold cat, and distributed pison in a variety of forms about this smiling village; and, if that don't inspire her with distrust, I don't know the nature of children, that's all! I might tell her, I say, and, if I'm to keep my mouth shut, I shall expect it to be considered in my wages. _Lady B._ I knew you had a good heart! I will pay you anything--anything, provided you shield my guilt from her ... wait, you shall have gold, gold, MONKSHOOD, gold! [_Chord. Little_ ELFIE _suddenly comes from behind screen; limelight on her. The other two shrink back._ _Elfie._ Do not give that bad old man money, Grandmother,--for it will only be wasted. _Lady B._ Speak, child--how much do you know? _Elfie._ All! [_Chord._ Lady B. _collapses on chair._ _Lady B._ (_with an effort_). And now, ELFIE, that you know, you scorn and hate your poor old Grandmother--is it not so?