The critic: or a tragedy rehearsed a dramatic piece in three acts as it is performed at the Theatre Royal in Drury Lane by, Richard Brinsley Sheridan Esqr.

ACT II.

SCENE I.

The THEATRE.

Enter DANGLE, PUFF, and SNEER, as before the Curtain.

PUFF.

NO, no, Sir; what Shakespeare says of ACTORS may be better applied to the pur|pose of PLAYS; they ought to be 'the abstract and brief Chronicles of the times.' Therefore when history, and particularly the history of our own country, furnishes any thing like a case in point, to the time in which an author writes, if he knows his own interest, he will take advan|tage of it; so, Sir, I call my tragedy The SPANISH ARMADA; and have laid the scene be|fore TILBURY FORT.

SNEER.

A most happy thought certainly!

DANGLE.

Egad it was—I told you so.—But pray now I dont understand how you have contrived to introduce any love into it.

PUFF.

Love!—Oh nothing so easy; for it is a received point among poets, that where history gives you a good heroic out-line for a play, you may fill up with a little love at your own dis|cretion; in doing which, nine times out of ten, you only make up a deficiency in the private history of the times.—Now I rather think I have done this with some success.

SNEER.

No scandal about Queen ELIZABETH, I hope?

PUFF.

O Lud! no, no.—I only suppose the Gover|nor of Tilbury Fort's daughter to be in love with the son of the Spanish Admiral.

SNEER.

Oh, is that all?

DANGLE.

Excellent, Efaith!—I see it at once.—But won't this appear rather improbable?

PUFF.

To be sure it will—but what the plague! a play is not to shew occurrences that happen every day, but things just so strange, that tho' they never did, they might happen.

SNEER.

Certainly nothing is unnatural, that is not physically impossible.

PUFF.

Very true—and for that matter DON FEROLO WISKERANDOS—for that's the lover's name, might have been over here in the train of the Spanish Ambassador; or TILBURINA, for that is the lady's name, might have been in love with him, from having heard his character, or seen his picture; or from knowing that he was the last man in the world she ought to be in love with—or for any other good female reason.—However, Sir, the fact is, that tho' she is but a Knight's daughter, egad! she is in love like any Princess!

DANGLE.

Poor young lady! I feel for her already! for I can conceive how great the conflict must be between her passion and her duty; her love for her country, and her love for DON FEROLO WISKERANDOS!

PUFF.

O amazing!—her poor susceptible heart is swayed to and fro, by contending passions like—

Enter UNDER PROMPTER.

UNDER PROMPTER.

Sir, the scene is set, and every thing is ready to begin if you please.—

PUFF.

'Egad; then we'll lose no time.

UNDER PROMPTER.

Tho' I believe, Sir, you will find it very short, for all the performers have profited by the kind permission you granted them.

PUFF.

Hey! what!

UNDER PROMPTER.

You know, Sir, you gave them leave to cut out or omit whatever they found heavy or un|necessary to the plot, and I must own they have taken very liberal advantage of your indulgence.

PUFF.

Well, well.—They are in general very good judges; and I know I am luxuriant.—Now, Mr. HOPKINS, as soon as you please.

UNDER PROMPTER to the Musick.

Gentlemen, will you play a few bars of some|thing, just to—

PUFF.

Aye, that's right,—for as we have the scenes, and dresses, egad, we'll go to't, as if it was the first night's performance;—but you need not mind stopping between the acts.

[Exit Under Prompter.]

(Orchestra play. Then the Bell rings.)

Soh! stand clear gentlemen.—Now you know there will be a cry of down!—down!—hats off! silence!—Then up curtain,—and let us see what our painters have done for us.

SCENE II.

The Curtain rises and discovers TILBURY FORT. Two Centinels asleep.

DANGLE.

Tilbury Fort!—very fine indeed!

PUFF.

Now, what do you think I open with?

SNEER.

Faith, I can't guess—

PUFF.

A clock.—Hark!—(clock strikes.) I open with a clock striking, to beget an aweful at|tention

in the audience—it also marks the time, which is four o'clock in the morning, and saves a description of the rising fun, and a great deal about gilding the eastern hemisphere.

DANGLE.

But pray, are the centinels to be asleep?

PUFF.

Fast as watchmen.

SNEER.

Isn't that odd tho' at such an alarming crisis?

PUFF.

To be sure it is,—but smaller things must give way to a striking scene at the opening; that's a rule.—And the case is, that two great men are coming to this very spot to begin the piece; now, it is not to be supposed they would open their lips, if these fellows were watching them, so, egad, I must either have sent them off their posts, or set them asleep.

SNEER.

O that accounts for it!—But tell us, who are these coming?—

PUFF.

These are they—SIR WALTER RALEIGH, and SIR CHRISTOPHER HATTON.—You'll know Sir

CHRISTOPHER, by his turning out his toes—fa|mous you know for his dancing. I like to preserve all the little traits of character.—Now attend.

Enter Sir WALTER RALEIGH and Sir CHRISTOPHER HATTON.

SIR CHRISTOPHER.

True, gallant Raleigh!—

DANGLE.

What, they had been talking before?

PUFF.

O, yes; all the way as they came along.—I beg pardon gentlemen

[to the Actors]

but these are particular friends of mine, whose remarks may be of great service to us.—Don't mind in|terrupting them whenever any thing strikes you.

[To Sneer and Dangle.]

SIR CHRISTOPHER.

True, gallant Raleigh! But O, thou champion of thy country's fame, There is a question which I yet must ask; A question, which I never ask'd before— What mean these mighty armaments? This general muster? and this throng of chiefs?

SNEER.

Pray, Mr. Puff, how came Sir Christopher Hatton never to ask that question before?

PUFF.

What, before the Play began? how the plague could he?

DANGLE.

That's true efaith!

PUFF.

But you will hear what he thinks of the matter.

SIR CHRISTOPHER.

Alas, my noble friend, when I behold Yon tented plains in martial symmetry Array'd.—When I count o'er yon glittering lines Of crested warriors, where the proud steeds neigh, And valor-breathing trumpet's shrill appeal, Responsive vibrate on my listning ear; When virgin majesty herself I view, Like her protecting Pallas veil'd in steel, With graceful confidence exhort to arms! When briefly all I hear or see bears stamp Of martial vigilance, and stern defence, I cannot but surmise.—Forgive, my friend, If the conjecture's rash—I cannot but Surmise.—Then state some danger apprehends!

SNEER.

A very cautious conjecture that.

PUFF.

Yes, that's his character; not to give an opi|nion, but on secure grounds—now then.

SIR WALTER.

O, most accomplished Christopher.

PUFF.

He calls him by his christian name, to shew that they are on the most familiar terms.

SIR WALTER.

O most accomplish'd Christopher, I find Thy staunch sagacity still tracks the future, In the fresh print of the o'ertaken past.

PUFF.

Figurative!

SIR WALTER.

Thy fears are just.

SIR CHRISTOPHER.

But where? whence? when? and what The danger is—Methinks I fain would learn.

SIR WALTER.

You know, my friend, scarce two revolving suns, And three revolving moons, have closed their course, Since haughty PHILIP, in despight of peace, With hostile hand hath struck at ENGLAND's trade.

SIR CHRISTOPHER.

I know it well.

SIR WALTER.

PHILIP you know is proud, IBERIA's king!

SIR CHRISTOPHER.

He is.

SIR WALTER.

—His subjects in base bigotry And Catholic oppression held,—while we You know, the protestant persuasion hold.

SIR CHRISTOPHER.

We do.

SIR WALTER.

You know beside,—his boasted armament, The fam'd Armada,—by the Pope baptized, With purpose to invade these realms—

SIR CHRISTOPHER.

—Is sailed, Our last advices so report.

SIR WALTER.

While the Iberian Admiral's chief hope, His darling son—

SIR CHRISTOPHER,

—Ferolo Wiskerandos hight—

SIR WALTER.

The same—by chance a pris'ner hath been ta'en, And in this fort of Tilbury—

SIR CHRISTOPHER.

—Is now Confin'd,—'tis true, and oft from you tall turrets top

I've mark'd the youthful Spaniard's haughty mien Unconquer'd, tho' in chains!

SIR WALTER.

You also know—

DANGLE.

—Mr. Puff, as he knows all this, why does Sir Walter go on telling him?

PUFF.

But the audience are not supposed to know any thing of the matter, are they?

SNEER.

True, but I think you manage ill: for there certainly appears no reason why Sir Walter should be so communicative.

PUFF.

For, egad now, that is one of the most ungrate|ful observations I ever heard—for the less in|ducement he has to tell all th••s, the more I think, you ought to be oblig'd to him; for I am sure you'd know nothing of the matter without it.

DANGLE.

That's very true, upon my word.

PUFF.

But you will find he was not going on.

SIR CHRISTOPHER.

Enough, enough,—'tis plain—and I no more Am in amazement lost!—

PUFF.

Here, now you see, Sir Christopher did not in fact ask any one question for his own informa|tion.

SNEER.

No indeed:—his has been a most disinterested curiosity!

DANGLE.

Really, I find, we are very much oblig'd to them both.

PUFF.

To be sure you are. Now then for the Com|mander in Chief, the EARL OF LEICESTER! who, you know, was no favourite but of the Queen's.—We left off—"in amazement lost!"—

SIR CHRISTOPHER.

Am in amazement lost.— But, see where noble Leicester comes! supreme In honours and command.

SIR WALTER.

And yet methinks, At such a time, so perilous, so fear'd, That staff might well become an abler grasp.

SIR CHRISTOPHER.

And so by heav'n! think I; but soft, he's here!

PUFF.

Aye, they envy him.

SNEER.

But who are these with him?

PUFF.

O! very valiant knights; one is the Governor of the fort, the other the master of the horse.—And now, I think you shall hear some better language: I was obliged to be plain and intel|ligible in the first scene, because there was so much matter of fact in it; but now, efaith, you have trope, figure, and metaphor, as plenty as noun-substantives.

Enter Earl of LEICESTER, the Governor, and others.

LEICESTER.

How's this my friends! is't thus your new fledg'd zeal And plumed valor moulds in roosted-sloth? Why dimly glimmers that heroic flame, Whose red'ning blaze by patriot spirit fed, Should be the beacon of a kindling realm? Can the quick current of a patriot heart, Thus stagnate in a cold and weedy converse, Or freeze in tideless inactivity?

No! rather let the fountain of your valor Spring thro' each stream of enterprize, Each petty channel of conducive daring, Till the full torrent of your foaming wrath O'erwhelm the flats of sunk hostility!

PUFF.

There it is,—follow'd up!

SIR WALTER.

No more! the fresh'ning breath of thy rebuke Hath fill'd the swelling canvass of our souls! And thus, tho' fate should cut the cable of

[All take hands.

Our topmost hopes, in friendship's closing line We'll grapple with despair, and if we fall, We'll fall in Glory's wake!

EARL OF LEICESTER.

There spoke Old England's genius! Then, are we all resolv'd?

ALL,

We are—all resolv'd.

EARL OF LEICESTER.

To conquer—or be free?

ALL.

To conquer, or be free.

EARL OF LEICESTER.

All?

ALL.

All.

DANGLE.

Nem. con. egad!

PUFF.

O yes, where they do agree on the stage, their unanimity is wonderful!

EARL OF LEICESTER.

Then, let's embrace—and now—

SNEER.

What the plague, is he going to pray?

PUFF.

Yes, hush!—in great emergencies, there is nothing like a prayer!

EARL OF LEICESTER.

O mighty Mars!

DANGLE.

But why should he pray to Mars?

PUFF.

Hush!

EARL OF LEICESTER.

If in thy homage bred, Each point of discipline I've still observ'd; Nor but by due promotion, and the right Of service, to the rank of Major-General Have ris'n; assist thy votary now!

GOVERNOR.

Yet do not rise,—hear me!

MASTER OF HORSE.

And me!

KNIGHT.

And me!

SIR WALTER.

And me!

SIR CHRISTOPHER.

And me!

PUFF.

Now, pray all together.

ALL.

Behold thy votaries submissive beg, That thou will deign to grant them all they ask; Assist them to accomplish all their ends, And sanctify whatever means they use To gain them!

SNEER.

A very orthodox quintetto!

PUFF.

Vastly well, gentlemen.—Is that well managed or not? Have you such a prayer as that on the stage?

SNEER.

Not exactly.

(Earl of Leicester to Puff.)

But, Sir, you hav'nt settled how we are to get off here.

PUFF.

You could not go off kneeling, could you?

(Sir Walter to Puff.)

O no, Sir! impossible!

PUFF.

It would have a good effect efaith, if you could! exeunt praying!—Yes, and would vary the established mode of springing off with a glance at the pit.

SNEER.

O never mind, so as you get them off, I'll answer for it the audience wont care how.

PUFF.

Well then, repeat the last line standing, and go off the old way.

ALL.

And sanctify whatever means we use to gain them.

[Exeunt.

DANGLE.

Bravo! a fine exit.

SNEER.

Well, really Mr. Puff.—

PUFF.

Stay a moment.—

The CENTINELS get up.

1st CENTINEL.

All this shall to Lord Burleigh's ear.

2d CENTINEL.

'Tis meet it should.

[Exeunt Centinels.

DANGLE.

Hey!—why, I thought those fellows had been asleep?

PUFF.

Only a pretence, there's the art of it; they were spies of Lord Burleigh's.

SNEER.

—But isn't it odd, they were never taken no|tice of, not even by the commander in chief.

PUFF.

O lud, Sir, if people who want to listen, or overhear, were not always conniv'd at in a Tragedy, there would be no carrying on any plot in the world.

DANGLE.

That's certain!

PUFF.

But take care, my dear Dangle, the morning gun is going to fire.

[Cannon fires.]

DANGLE.

Well, that will have a fine effect.

PUFF.

I think so, and helps to realize the scene.—

[Cannon twice.]

What the plague!—three morning guns!—there never is but one!—aye, this is always the

away at the Theatre—give these fellows a good thing, and they never know when to have done with it. You have no more cannon to fire?

PROMPTER from within.

No Sir.

PUFF.

Now then, for soft musick.

SNEER.

Pray what's that for?

PUFF.

It shews that TILBURINA is coming; nothing introduces you a heroine like soft musick.—Here she comes.

DANGLE.

And her confidant, I suppose?

PUFF.

To be sure: here they are—inconsolable to the minuet in Ariadne!

Soft musick.

Enter TILBURINA and CONFIDANT.

TILBURINA.

Now has the whispering breath of gentle morn, Bad Nature's voice, and Nature's beauty rise; While orient Phoebus with unborrow'd hues, Cloaths the wak'd loveliness which all night slept In heav'nly drapery! Darkness is fled. Now flowers unfold their beauties to the sun, And blushing, kiss the beam he sends to wake them. The strip'd carnation, and the guarded rose,

The vulgar wall flow'r, and smart gillyflower, The polyanthus mean—the dapper daizy, Sweet William, and sweet marjorum,—and all The tribe of single and of double pinks! Now too, the feather'd warblers tune their notes Around, and charm the listning grove.—The lark! The linnet! chafinch! bullfinch! goldfinch! green|finch! —But O to me, no joy can they afford! Nor rose, nor wall flow'r, nor smart gillyflower, Nor polyanthus mean, nor dapper daizy, Nor William sweet, nor marjoram—nor lark, Linnet, nor all the finches of the grove!

PUFF.

Your white handkerchief madam—

TILBURINA.

I thought, Sir, I wasn't to use that'till, 'heart rending woe.'

PUFF.

O yes madam—at 'the finches of the grove,' if you please.

TILBURINA.

Nor lark, Linnet, nor all the finches of the grove!

[Weeps.

PUFF.

Vastly well madam!

DANGLE.

Vastly well indeed!

TILBURINA.

For, O too sure, heart rending woe is now The lot of wretched Tilburina!

DANGLE.

O!—'tis too much.

SNEER.

Oh!—it is indeed

CONFIDANT.

Be comforted sweet lady—for who knows, But Heav'n has yet some milk-white day in store.

TILBURINA.

Alas, my gentle Nofa, Thy tender youth, as yet hath never mourn'd Love's fatal dart.—Else wouldst thou know, that when The soul is sunk in comfortless despair, It cannot taste of merryment!

DANGLE.

That's certain.

CONFIDANT.

But see where your stern father comes; It is not meet that he should find you thus.

PUFF.

Hey, what the plague!—what a cut is here!—why, what is become of the description of her first meeting with Don Wiskerandos? his gal|lant behaviour in the sea fight, and the simile of the canary bird?

TILBURINA.

Indeed Sir, you'll find they will not be miss'd.

PUFF.

Very well.—Very well!

TILBURINA.

The cue ma'am if you please.

CONFIDANT.

It is not meet that he should find you thus.

TILBURINA.

Thou counsel'st right, but 'tis no easy task For barefaced grief to wear a mask of joy.

Enter GOVERNOR.

How's this—in tears?—O Tilburina, shame! Is this a time for maudling tenderness, And Cupid's baby woes?—hast thou not heard That haughty Spain's Pope-consecrated fleet Advances to our shores, while England's fate, Like a clipp'd guinca, trembles in the scale!

TILBURINA.

Then, is the crisis of my fate at hand! I see the fleets approach—I see—

PUFF.

Now, pray gentlemen mind.—This is one of the most useful figures we tragedy writers have, by which a hero or heroine, in consideration of their being often obliged to overlook things that are on the stage, is allow'd to hear and see a number of things that are not.

SNEER.

Yes—a kind of poetical second-sight!

PUFF.

Yes—now then madam.

TILBURINA.

I see their decks Are clear'd!—I see the signal made! The line is form'd!—a cable's length asunder! I see the frigates station'd in the rear; And now, I hear the thunder of the guns! I hear the victors shouts—I also hear The vanquish'd groan!—and now 'tis smoke—and now I see the loose sails shiver in the wind! I see—I see—what soon you'll see—

GOVERNOR.

Hold daughter! peace! this love hath turn'd thy brain: The Spanish fleet thou canst not see—because —It is not yet in sight!

DANGLE.

Egad tho', the governor seems to make no allowance for this poetical figure you talk of.

PUFF.

No, a plain matter-of-fact man—that's his character.

TILBURINA.

But will you then refuse his offer?

GOVERNOR.

I must—I will—I can—I ought—I do.

TILBURINA.

Think what a noble price.

GOVERNOR.

No more—you urge in vain.

TILBURINA.

His liberty is all he asks.

SNEER.

All who asks Mr. Puff? Who is—

PUFF.

Egad Sir, I can't tell.—Here has been such cutting and slashing, I don't know where they have got to myself.

TILBURINA.

Indeed Sir, you will find it will connect very well.

—And your reward secure.

PUFF.

O,—if they had'nt been so devilish free with their cutting here, you would have found that Don Wiskerandos has been tampering for his li|berty, and has persuaded Tilburina to make this proposal to her father—and now pray observe the conciseness with which the argument is con|ducted. Egad, the pro & con goes as smart a hits in a fencing match. It is indeed a sort of small-sword logic, which we have borrowed from the French.

TILBURINA.

A retreat in Spain!

GOVERNOR.

Outlawry here!

TILBURINA.

Your daughter's prayer!

GOVERNOR.

Your father's oath!

TILBURINA.

My lover!

GOVERNOR.

My country!

TILBURINA.

Tilburina!

GOVERNOR.

England!

TILBURINA.

A title!

GOVERNOR.

Honor!

TILBURINA.

A pension!

GOVERNOR.

Conscience!

TILBURINA.

A thousand pounds!

GOVERNOR.

Hah! thou hast touch'd me nearly!

PUFF.

There you see—she threw in Tilburina, Quick, parry cart with England!—Hah! thrust in teirce a title!—parried by honor.—Hah! a pension over the arm!—put by by conscience.—Then flankonade with a thousand pounds—and a palpable hit egad!

TILBURINA.

Canst thou— Reject the suppliant, and the daughter too?

GOVERNOR.

No more; I wou'd not hear thee plead in vain, The father softens—but the governor Is fix'd!

[Exit.

DANGLE.

Aye, that antithesis of persons—is a most establish'd figure.

TILBURINA.

Tis well,—hence then fond hopes,—fond passion hence; Duty, behold I am all over thine—

WISKERANDOS without.

Where is my love—my—

TILBURINA.

Ha!

WISKERANDOS entering.

My beauteous enemy—

PUFF.

O dear ma'am, you must start a great deal more than that; consider you had just deter|mined in favour of duty—when in a moment the sound of his voice revives your passion,—overthrows your resolution, destroys your obe|dience.—If you don't express all that in your start—you do nothing at all.

TILBURINA.

Well, we'll try again!

DANGLE.

Speaking from within, has always a fine effect.

SNEER.

Very.

WISKERANDOS.

My conquering Tilburina! How! is't thus We meet? why are thy looks averse! what means That falling tear—that frown of boding woe? Hah! now indeed I am a prisoner! Yes, now I feel the galling weight of these Disgraceful chains—which, cruel Tilburina! Thy doating captive gloried in before.— But thou art false, and Wiskerandos is undone!

TILBURINA.

O no; how little dost thou know thy Tilburina!

WISKERANDOS.

Art thou then true? Begone cares, doubts and fears, I make you all a present to the winds; And if the winds reject you—try the waves.

PUFF.

The wind you know, is the established re|ceiver of all stolen sighs, and cast off griefs and apprehensions.

TILBURINA.

Yet must we part?—stern duty seals our doom: Though here I call yon conscious clouds to witness, Could I pursue the bias of my soul, All friends, all right of parents I'd disclaim, And thou, my Wiskerandos, should'st be father

And mother, brother, cousin, uncle, aunt, And friend to me!

WISKERANDOS.

O matchless excellence!—and must we part? Well, if—we must—we must—and in that case, The less is said the better.

PUFF.

Hey day! here's a cut!—What, are all the mutual protestations out?

TILBURINA.

Now, pray Sir, don't interrupt us just here, you ruin our feelings.

PUFF.

Your feelings!—but zounds, my feelings, ma'am!

SNEER.

No; pray don't interrupt them.

WISKERANDOS.

One last embrace.—

TILBURINA.

Now,—farewell, for ever.

WISKERANDOS.

For ever!

TILBURINA.

Aye, for ever.

[Going.

PUFF.

S'death and fury!—Gadslife! Sir! Madam! if you go out without the parting look, you might as well dance out—Here, here!

CONFIDANT.

But pray Sir, how am I to get off here?

PUFF.

You, pshaw! what the devil signifies how you get off! edge away at the top, or where you will—

[Pushes the confidant off.]

Now ma'am you see—

TILBURINA.

We understand you Sir.

Aye for ever.

BOTH.

Ohh!—

[Turning back and exeunt. Scene closes.

DANGLE.

O charming!

PUFF.

Hey!—'tis pretty well I believe—you see I don't attempt to strike out any thing new—but I take it I improve on the established modes.

SNEER.

You do indeed.—But pray is not Queen Eli|zabeth to appear?

PUFF.

No not once—but she is to be talked of for ever; so that egad you'll think a hundred times that she is on the point of coming in.

SNEER.

Hang it, I think its a pity to keep her in the green room all the night.

PUFF.

O no, that always has a fine effect—it keeps up expectation.

DANGLE.

But are we not to have a battle?

PUFF.

Yes, yes, you will have a battle at last, but, egad, it's not to be by land—but by sea—and that is the only quite new thing in the piece.

DANGLE.

What, Drake at the Armada, hey?

PUFF.

Yes, efaith—fire ships and all—then we shall end with the procession.—Hey! that will do I think.

SNEER.

No doubt on't.

PUFF.

Come, we must not lose time—so now for the UNDER PLOT.

SNEER.

What the plague, have you another plot?

PUFF.

O lord, yes—ever while you live, have two plots to your tragedy.—The grand point in ma|naging them, is only to let your under plot have as little connexion with your main plot as possi|ble. —I flatter myself nothing can be more dis|tinct than mine, for as in my chief plot, the

characters are all great people—I have laid my under plot in low life—and as the former is to end in deep distress, I make the other end as happy as a farce.—Now Mr. Hopkins, as soon as you please.

Enter UNDER PROMPTER. UNDER PROMPTER.

Sir, the carpenter says it is impossible you can go to the Park scene yet.

PUFF.

The Park scene! No—I mean the description scene here, in the wood.

UNDER PROMPTER.

Sir, the performers have cut it out.

PUFF.

Cut it out!

UNDER PROMPTER.

Yes Sir.

PUFF.

What! the whole account of Queen Eliza|beth?

UNDER PROMPTER.

Yes Sir.

PUFF.

And the description of her horse and side-saddle?

UNDER PROMPTER.

Yes Sir.

PUFF.

So, so, this is very fine indeed! Mr. Hopkins, how the plague could you suffer this?

HOPKINS, from within.

Sir, indeed the pruning knife—

PUFF.

The pruning knife—zounds the axe! why, here has been such lopping and topping, I shan't have the bare trunk of my play left presently.—Very well, Sir—the performers must do as they please, but upon my soul, I'll print it every word.

SNEER.

That I would indeed.

PUFF.

Very well—Sir—then we must go on—zounds! I would not have parted with the description of the horse!—Well, Sir, go on—Sir, it was one of the finest and most laboured things—Very well, Sir, let them go on—there you had him and his accoutrements from the bit to the crup|per —very well, Sir, we must go to the Park scene.

UNDER PROMPTER.

Sir, there is the point, the carpenters say, that unless there is some business put in here before the drop, they shan't have time to clear away the fort, or sink Gravesend and the river.

PUFF.

So! this is a pretty dilemma truly!—Gentle|men —you must excuse me, these fellows will never be ready, unless I go and look after them myself.

SNEER.

O dear Sir—these little things will happen—

PUFF.

To cut out this scene!—but I'll print it—egad, I'll print it every word!

[Exeunt.

END OF ACT II.