Ah, well, perhaps, perhaps, perhaps. Still, de mortuis nil nisi bonum. He died extremely well, remarkably well. He has set us an example: let us endeavor to follow it rather than harp on the weaknesses that have perished with him. I think it is Shakespear who says that the good that most men do lives after them: the evil lies interred with their bones. Yes: interred with their bones. Believe me, Paddy, we are all mortal. It is the common lot, Ridgeon. Say what you will, Walpole, Nature's debt must be paid. If tis not to-day, twill be to-morrow. To-morrow and to-morrow and to-morrow After life's fitful fever they sleep well And like this insubstantial bourne from which No traveller returns Leave not a wrack behind. (Walpole is about to speak, but B. B., suddenly and vehemently proceeding, extinguishes him.) Out, out, brief candle: For nothing canst thou to damnation add The readiness is all. WALPOLE (gently; for B. B.'s feeling, absurdly expressed as it is, is too sincere and humane to be ridiculed) Yes, B. B. Death makes people go on like that. I dont know why it should; but it does. By the way, what are we going to do? Ought we to clear out; or had we better wait and see whether Mrs Dubedat will come back?

B B Monologue from The Doctor's Dilemma

Rehearse B B's monologue