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Silence! oh! silence!

I hear you a mile hence!

Study Romeo, Second Dromio, Corps de Ballet, Lying Valet.

Admit n Orders, Lower borders, Do the Fops, Take up drops.

Alarms without, Jerry Grout, Timour Tartar, Real Water!
Chorus sing, O. P. Wing, Ring in Band, Music Grand-

No pay, we play, so gay, all day-
Curse the expense, chace care away!

Let Hastings make haste, as Jane Shore has just landed,
And by my Lord Sands, from her carriage is handed.
Refreshments send round-take some coffee to Lear-
Bring great Alexander a glass of small beer!

But where is Queen Kath'rine-has Cromwell yet sought her?

She's gone to fetch Wolsey some warm rum and water!

And nobility quickly creating,

A Count is transform'd from a Cook!
The Lacqueys are made Lords in waiting,
By a mark in the Prompter's red book!
O! let me play Ranger-
You're cast for the Stranger;
And here is a Rolla

Will beat 'em all hollow.
Here Mertons and Mingles,
And one for Three Singles-
Silence! oh! silence!
I hear you a mile hence!

Who plays Hector? Castle Spectre, Dick and Brass, Light up Gas,

Famous Rover, Farce is over Give the word-Act the


Embroider'd coats, Play Wild Oats-Exits crosses, Basket


Father Paul, is too small-Success is certain--Drop the curtain.

No pay, we play, so gay, all day-
Curse the expense, ehase care away!


[Exit, R.


SCENE I.-Same as before.

BUSTLE'S Lodgings-Table, Chairs, Crush, &c. &c. Large Grating with chain and padlock to it, before R. S. E. Enter GEOFFRY, L.

Geo. (c.) Lauk! how they hurries me about!-That nasty ill-natered old landlady has lock'd up the pantry, and I am as hungry as a grunter-There's a short dinner again today: O Lord! I am sure I shall come off but poorly, 'cause I took such a wery little beef-steak-pye to the bake-house -It is astonishing, what a small sight of wittles I do contrive to persist on !-They say, a song lightens labour, and makes merry a sad heart-I'll sing one I heard once.


One morn, whilst I was brewing,
My thoughts each thought pursuing,
First malt and hops, next Molly Popps:
Thinks I, I'll go a wooing!

Oh yes I will! indeed I will! tol de rol, &c.

Chance in my brew-house brought her—
"Dame Popps, I love your daughter,

And feel inclin❜d to tell my mind,

And cut my longing shorter !"

Oh yes I do! indeed I do! tol de rol, &c.

My Molly dear now came in,

Whilst love my heart inflaming

Her mother said, "the lad's afraid

His passion you'll be blaming."

Oh yes he is! he really is! tol de rol, &c.

Cried Moll," You stupid rash cub,
Think I'd marry such a scrub?

Your hopes desist"-
"-so with her fist

She sous'd me in the mash-tub!

O yes she did! she really did! tol de rol, &c.

[A loud knocking without, at L. D.

Enter BUSTLE hastily, R.

Bus. (c.) "Open locks, whoever knocks"-Geoffry, why the devil don't you fly to the door?

Geo. Fly, Sir!-I'm tir'd-fly, indeed!—If this fag goes on, I shall die!—then, mayhap, I may be a cherrybum, like them there on the tomb-stones-then I'll fly!-

[Going very slowly.

Bus. Oh! Oh! your sentimentals-go and open the door, there's a good lad-I expect several people.

Geo. I'll go, Sir, as you speak sweet humouredly; but I don't know what you means by my regimentals.

[Exit leisurely, L.

Bus. That's a charity boy! but curse me, if it would not be a charity for any body to throw him into a well, or tie him to the sails of a wind-mill!-Hollo! [Looking out.] Mr. Dulcet and Miss Mary Hardacre! What can bring them here together?-An elopement !—mum, they enter.

Enter DULCET and MARY, L.

Dul. (c.) Ha! Bustle, my hero! my dramatic chronicle, how are you?-give me leave to introduce you, my dear, to a perambulating Play-bill!

Bus. (R.) Miss Hardacre, I am proud of the present honor.

Dul. Not a word of this young lady's first appearance here Bustle, I can trust you-we were early friendsyou know my sentiments :

[Sings.]"Give me but this, I ask no more

"Than my sweet girl, my friend, and pitcher."

Bus. Why, ha ha! we are all here, except the pitcher! Dul. Miss Hardacre's guardian and herself did not agree. -You are acquainted with him?

Bus. Never had the pleasure of seeing the gentleman. Dul. Never saw him?-Oh, he is a captious country magistrate knows as much of the world as an Otaheitean infant-Don't think he was ever inside of a theatre in his


Miss Hard. (L.) That I am sure he never was.

Bus. Never in a theatre ?-Poor man, I pity him!

Dul. Well, how goes on business-have you sent to town? My noble relative, the patron of private theatricals, anxious to bring forward our performances as perfect as possible, desired you to engage some professional persons to assist.

Bus. The principal tragedy lady has arrived, Mrs. Mary Goneril(a namesake of your's, Miss) an exquisite actress -fine eyes-good teeth-well-shaped leg→→


Dul. Ha ha! bravoBus. Then there's Mr. Wing-he is a provincial ;—a barn-door fowl--he has also arrived, and will be usefulDul. There's another actor, too, for the heavy parts?

Bus. For the serious business, I have written to a Mr. Berry-an elderly man-he is in the neighbourhood, but I have not yet seen him-[Crosses to L.] but excuse me; I am very busy, for, you must know, my property-man died intestate last week, and I am obliged to look after his concerns going now to the umbrella shop, to buy three pounds of swan-shot and a gross of tenter-hooks, to make a shower of rain-therefore, good bye-[Sings.] "The word"

Dul. "Good night!"
Both. "All's well!"

[Exit Bustle, L.

Dul. Ha! ha! that's a notable fellow-but, my dearest Mary, you are serious! [Takes her hand.

Mary. It is the consideration that I have been guilty of an act of folly.

Dul. Nay, a very trifle-why should an ignorant and morose guardian prevent your pleasure?

Mary. (R. c.) With all his oddity, he is a simple, goodhearted man-I will not much longer tease you with my coyness.

Dul. (L. c.) Psha!—My relatives will be rejoiced to receive you you shall take a part in our projected play; and, when we appear on the stage, the whole audience will exclaim

[Sings.] "Ah, sure a pair was never seen," &c. &c.

Mary. O, I should be dreadfully alarmed! Ah, but you have a method of softening error by levity-Had we not better proceed to the hall? It is hardly correct, that I should yet be seen in a strange place with you.

Dul. [Sings.]" In truth, lovely tear,

"It strange doth appear,

"That we should be both here together."

Mary. Nay, come

Dul. I obey, and will shortly prove

[Sings.] "How much, dear maid, I love thee."

[Exeunt, singing, R.

Re-enter BUSTLE, followed by WING, L.

Bus. (R. C.) I tell you I am very angry-confounded asses! unless one has an eye to every thing!

Wing. (L. c.) Have patience!

Bus. Patience; exemplify the word!-Patience! take a rod in your hand, and go a fishing-there's patience! or take a rod in your hand, and keep a school-there's patience! but a manager! alack, he is broiling on a red-hot gridiron from morning till night.

Wing. Poor fellow! and so he is indeed! especially if he happens to be an author too; for what with the audience before the curtain, and the actors behind--with sometimes a morning dose of critical severity in the newspapers, he may think himself well off, if, having perchance escaped the King's Bench, he does not end his uneasy days in Bedlam. But what's the particular matter just now?

Bus. Matter!-a matter of magnitude! Would you believe it? A stupid rascal of a tailor has been stuffing King Richard's hump with hay instead of horse-hair!

IVing. Fie! Mr. Bustle, keep your temper-don't set your back up, about a hump-when a man gets into a passion he's apt to lose his temper; and a manager without temper is like a tragedy actor without talent,―sure to get laugh'd at by the company.

Bus. (c.) Such arrant stupidity! When I was younger, I undertook every department in a Theatre, and never failed -videlicet, "Stuck bills, kept box-book, white-washed Pit entrance, counted checks, scower'd gallery stairs, lit lamps, assisted in first music, dressed Prince Edward and the Duke of York, kept places, spoke occasional address, prompted play, then on for Buskin in the Farce-[Bustle here imitates the best imitator in the world.

Wing. Ha! ha! you're an excellent mimic, Mr. Bustle. Bus. Are you perfect in your song?

Wing. Perfect! my modesty forbids reply-but I have it pretty nearly—

[Sings.] "When Cupid was made first lord of the heart."

Bus. Ah! that will do-wait till the composer comes, and be sure you sing it to him, for his good opinion is worth having [Wing exit singing, R. Geo. [Without, L.] Take care how you turns your old body up the crooked stairs.

Bus. Who have we here ?-my other actor, I suppose. 1

Enter GEOFFRY, introducing ELDERBERRY, L.

Geo. There, that be Muster Bustle.

[Exit, L.

Eld. (L.) My goodness! Phew! what a waddle have I

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