All this, done in five seconds, so delighted the spectators, that they cheered, and cheered again.  “As good as a theatre!” ejaculated a new friend of Mrs. Slapman’s, on the front row.

The strange, disorderly man plunged forward with one leg toward Alberto, and then drew himself back suddenly, as if in a state of harassing indecision. (Applause.) Then he cast a diabolical look (worthy of the elder Booth in Richard III) at the young lover, and shrieked, “Wretch! villain!  I will—­I will—­” He hesitated to add what he would do, but shook his fists in a highly natural manner at the object of his hate.  (Great applause.)

“Sir!” said Fidelia, stretching her proud young form erect, like a tragedy queen, “How dare you, sir!” (Boisterous applause, and this remark from an elderly gentleman:  “The picture of Mrs. Siddons!”)

The singular individual in black was seen to tremble with increased violence.  His eyes rolled more wildly, while his face took on a chalkier hue.  He stepped back, as if to insure his retreat.  Then, mustering all his resolution, he said: 

“M-Mrs. M-Mrs. Slapman, you—­you ought to be a-ashamed of yourself!”

The real character of the strange actor was now made evident, and the whole house was hushed in awe and expectation.  There was not a man or woman present but knew too well the folly of mingling in a family quarrel.  So they held their tongues, and enjoyed the scene.

Mrs. Slapman turned to the audience.  She was pale, but perfectly composed.  She said: 

“Ladies and gentlemen, this is my husband, a very quiet and well-behaved man, whose only fault is excessive nervousness.  This fault, I am sorry to say, he encourages, by constantly smoking cigars and drinking strong black tea.  He has been indulging in both of these stimulants to-night, till he is quite beside himself.  I trust you will excuse and pity him.  He has no other vices that I know of.”

Then, turning to her husband, whose hands had now dropped listlessly by his side, she added: 

“My dear, bathe your head, and go to bed immediately.”

He struggled to say something in the presence of this calm embodiment of satire, but could not.  Hanging down his head, and looking very silly, he slinked off the stage.

“Now, ladies and gentlemen,” said Mrs. Slapman, “after an interval of fifteen minutes, we will proceed with the comedietta of ’A Morning Call,’ as if nothing had happened.”

When she had said this, Mrs. Slapman fainted—­this time in earnest.  She was caught in the arms of Fayette Overtop, who immediately, and with the utmost delicacy, resigned her to the arms of Miss Wick (Bidette), and of several other ladies, who came upon the stage and proffered salts, cologne, and other restoratives.

The gentlemen present, actors and audience, unanimously decided that the best thing for them to do, under all the circumstances, was to leave the premises.