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but one or two of us old stagers will keep them in the right road. Talking of that, did you come by the coach? Wing. No, I came on foot.

Bus. O, a walking gentleman! What brought you upon the stage?

Wing. Why, I became enamoured of the profession -

Bus. So you embraced it.
Wing. Ha! ha!-Heigho!
Bus. Why do you sigh?


Wing. A performer is such a singular machineBus. So far singular, that he goes upon a self-acting principle that should not make you melancholy.

Wing. You know I am married—

Bus. Ah! I forgot!

Wing. Do it once, and you'll never forget it!
Bus. Where is Mrs. Wing?

Wing. I have not, at present, the felicity of knowing. I one day remonstrated with her on the subject of her vagaries and my finances-She replied that I was a bad manager, and she would cancel her engagement:

Bus. Well!

Wing. Well! She took herself off next day, accompanied by Mr. Attitude, our Harlequin, (a pretty man, with extensive whiskers.) Ah! it does not much matter, she was such a vixen!

Bus. Ha ha ha! Well, you may think yourself lucky that she is discharged from your company. Besides losing your better half, what other success have you had? Wing. O! intolerable!

Bus. Benefits?

Wing. (R. C.) "Flat, stale, and unprofitable !"

Bus. What, this last season?

[In character.

Wing. No, not so bad-don't let me disparage —this

year they were decent-I only lost ten shillings!

Bus. Lost!

Wing. Yes, and very well off too-last season I was minus the matter of one pound fifteen!

Bus. Mighty beneficial!

Wing. A fact, I do assure you


Bus. (L. c.) Well, what do you want, with your mouth open like Ophelia's grave?

Geo. (L.) Please- here's a lady come down by the High lver.

Bus. Ah! my tragedy heroine, I suppose-What did she say her name was ?

Geo Mrs.-Mrs.-O, it was Mrs. something!

Wing. Explanatory as a drunken prompter.
Bus. Elucidate-

[Wing retires up towards table, and looks at the things Takes up the French horn.] Geo. No, 'twasn't Lucy, at all.

upon it.

Bus. Was it any thing like Mrs. Mary Goneril?
Geo. That be the very one!

Bus. (c.) She is, I hear, a first-rate actress—a star, and a great favourite of the public and the manager.

Geo. Bless you, I just peeped into her bundle, and there I saw a bloody dagger-a crown-a cat's paw, kivered with brickdust, and a long tail of black hair, for all the world like the parson's poney-Here she be. [Exit Geoffrey, L.


Bus. (R.) Mrs. Goneril!

Mrs. G. (L.) I presume I am addressing Mr. O. P. Bustle?


Bus. I am Mr. O. P. Bustle.

Mrs. G. You perceive, sir, I am punctual-I started from the coach office at five in the morming-an early hour for our profession; but it is my maxim never to keep the stage waiting.

Bus. No, ma'am; if you do that, you stand a chance of losing your place-He! he! pardon my pun! I trust you are not too much fatigued to afford me a little specimen of your talent, as I must return an immediate and very exact report to my employers, respecting your manner, person, action, delivery!

Mrs. G. I shall esteem myself honoured in giving an op.. portunity for the very able criticism of Mr. O. P. Bustle! Juliet, sir, is my favourite part, and, supported by a tolerable Romeo, I have played it to a fountain of tears!

Bus. That must have been refreshing-kept the house so cool!

Mrs. G. Yes, sir, there was not a dry eye in the theatre --not even the constables!

Bus. Well, I've a Romeo in my eye for you-yonder he stands. [Pointing to Wing, who is fencing at the wall, at the back of the stage, R.]

Mrs. G. [Aside.] What a figure of fun!

[She puts her hat on the table.

Bus. I must introduce you to each other-Mrs. Goneril, give me leave to present-[Wing comes forward, R.] Mr. Wing to you. [She shrieks. Wing starts, and exit R. à la

Stranger," Act 4. Scene last, and is pulled back by the skirts of his coat, by Bustle.] Very well! bravo! a very natural tragedy outcry.

Wing. [Aside, R.] By all that's uneasy! 'tis my runaway wife.

Mrs W. [Aside, L.] The figure of fun is my forlorn husband-he is as wretched and ragged as ever-Ï mustn't

know him.

Wing. [Aside.] If she won't discover the acquaintance, curse me if I do.

Bus. (c.) Now, madam, and sir, we will have a specimen of your mutual abilities-be kind enough to go through part of a scene-I shall then be able to judge. Come, the garden-now Romeo, begin

Wing. [Confused.] Sir-I-I am very unfit-I cannot at present.

Bus. Psha! nonsense.

Wing. [Apart.] How embarrassing-the fact is, Mr. Bustle, I-scalded my throat with your hot tea.

Bus. Why, you seem determined to throw cold water on it. Now, ma'am, please to begin at the part in the garden. [Takes out a book.] Your cue is-" shall I speak to this?" [In character. Mrs. W. ""Tis but thy name that is my enemy!

What's in a name? That which we call a rose,
By any other name would smell as sweet."

Bus. Beg pardon for stopping-but I think you are a little too affected.

Mrs W. It is very pathetic, and I ought to be affected, you know.

Bus. Yes, ma'am, but you mince the words to atomsnow observe me-distinct-" Romeo! quit thy name"sonorous, yet tender, you see.

Mrs. W. No, I don't see-but I hear.

"Romeo, quit thy name,

And for thy name, which is no part of thee,
Take all myself."

Aside.] The dirty sinner! I would give five pounds to be rid of him.

Hing. (c.) "I take thee at thy word


Call me but love, I will forswear my name,
And never more be Romeo."

Mrs. W." If they do see thee, they will murder thee!
"Alack! there lies more peril in thine eye
[Aside. Spitfire !]
Than twenty of their swords-look thou but

And I am proof against their enmity."

Bus. (c.) Bravo! bravo! this will do admirably! A little too much of the familiar, but that is the new school, so let it pass-consider yourselves both engaged. O! how the fashionable dramatists will be delighted-I expect some of them presently—

Mrs. W. "I would not for the world they saw thee here: By whose direction found'st thou out this


Wing. [Apart.] Yes, I wonder what unlucky devil brought me here.

Bus. If you two do not astonish them, I shall be surprised; perhaps, ma'am, you would like to refresh yourself. Wing. I should like to have something-I have had nothing yet.

Bus. Yes, you have had some tea.

Wing. Yes, but nothing to eat.

Bus. That room-now come, one more touch of the tender, at parting-look lovingly at each other,—friend Wing," I would I were thy bird."

Wing. [Throwing himself into an attitude.] "I would I were thy bird."—

Mrs. Wing. [Half aside.] If you were, I'd wring your neck off! [Exit into a room, L. door in flut. Wing. (R.) There's a touch of the tender. Mr. Bustle, the sight of that woman has thrown me into an irritationI must be gone.

Bus. (L.) Eh! go-what is the matter?

Wing. Your Juliet-is-my wife!

Bus. The devil!

Wing. The devil, indeed.

Bus. Psha! don't run, man-do not fret about her reappearance-depend upon't, she has a more substantial protector thau you could be. I heard something about a Manager! mum! ha ha!-the very cut of your coat is a safeguard to you.

Wing. [Looking at his clothes.] I don't know whether it is a safe-guard, but it strikes me to be very blackguard.

Bus. Do not despond! tho' " thou art a fellow almost damu'd in a fair wife." To change the subject, I am in momentary expectation of Mr. Berry, another performer, the gentleman who is to do the heavy business —Do you sing?

Wing. Yes-I have introduced" Together let us range the fields," in Young Meadows, before now.

Bus. [Goes to the table, c.] Well then, here's an original song for you to study-it was written and composed by one of our Amateurs-he will be here in half an hour, and I should like you to sing to him-he is a cursed tenacious old fellow tho'-so be perfect.

Wing. [Hums the tune.] I have heard that air before. Ah! it is by one of the Amateur Composers, and that accounts for it. I'll go to my room, and→


"When Cupid was made first lord of the heart.”

[Exit Wing, singing, R D. F. Bus. Ah! that will do for the present. Let me see, what properties do we still want-[Takes out a paper.]— "List, list, oh list!"-[Reads.] "A brace of pistols, and a snow-storm,' "—" Harlequin's wand," and "a tinder-box," -" a diamond ring," and "a red cow for John Bull,' 66 a pair of russet shoes," and "two of Foote's pieces," Well! of all the varieties, a private play is the most amusing.


The rehearsal is call'd, the Performers are met,
And parts are distributed-what a gay set!

Here's Romeo, here Richard, and Buckingham, cousins,
Here Hamlet, and Hotspur, and Henrys by dozens !
Here Tragedy, Comedy, Farce, Pantomimes,
With Operas, Interludes, Epilogues, Rhymes!

'Midst this Tyro-Dramatic profusion,

Safe hous'd from the wind and the weather,
Such a scene of confounded confusion,
Lords and Lampmen are jostled together.

We want Lady Teazle,
Penruddock and Weazle!
Oh, I'll play Othello,
I'll do it so well O!
Mr. Crop is a Brutus
I think will quite suit us.

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