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SCENE I.-Covent Garden. | Wil. I have given orders, that my post-chaise

| shall wait in the broad way by Exeter 'Change, Enter Wilson and Marvin, booted. and the moment the lady steps from her chair Wil. My dear Jack, ten thousand thanks for to the chaise, the postilions will crack their your punctuality-ready equipped, I see, to whips, and drive away like lightning. serve your friend.

| Ner. You are a romantic fellow! How can you Mer. But how can I serve you, my young possibly imagine, that your hot-headed scheme, Don Quixotte? Am I to be your Sancho, while to run away with this young lady, can ever be your knight-errantship is running away with this executed ? Dulcinea del Toboso?

| Wil. From the justice of my cause, Jack.


1st Wom. Between you and I Betty, and our as he pleases, with all the proper scenes dresses, two brooms, the house-keeper is grown a little machinery, and music; so, what signifies all our purse-proud; he thinks himself a great actor prating? forsooth, since he played the Scotch fellow, and Saun. Very little, as you say—but damn all the fat cook in Queen Mab.

these new vagaries, that put us all upon our 2d Wom. The quality spoils bim too: why, heads topsy versy!--my men have sat up all woman, he talks to them for all the world as if night, and I have finished every thing but the he was a lord!

Dancing Cows. 1st Wom. I shall certainly resign, as the great Hop. Bless my heart, man, the author defolks call it in the newspaper, it they won't pro-pends most upon his cows! mise to give me the first dresser's place that falls, Saun. His cows! bow came they to be his? and make our little Tommy a page; what, wo- they are my cows ;-these poets are pretty fel. man! though we are well paid for our work, lows, faith! they say, I'll bave a flying devil, or we ought to inake sure of something when our a dancing bear, or any such conundrum ; why, brooms are taken from us—'tis the fashion, l 'tis easily said, but who is to make them fly, and Betty.

dance? ha, Master Prompter? Why, poor Pill 2d Wom. Right, right, Mrs, Besom ; service is Garlic—the audience applauds, the author is no inheritance, and to be always doing dirty conceited; but the capenter is never thought of. work, and to have no prospect to rest, and Hop. These are bold truths, Mr. Saunders. clean ourselves, is the curse only of us poor Saun. Why, then, out with them, I say-great folks.

men spin the brains of the little ones, and take 1st Wom. You and I will drink a dish of tea the credit of them. Do you know how I was together in confort this afternoon, and talk over served in our dramatic romance of Cymon? these and other matters—but mum-here's the Hop. You did your business well there, parprompter, [They sing, and sweep again. ticularly in the last scene.

Saun. And what was the consequence? One Enter Hopkins.

fine gentleman in the boxes said, my master

brought it from Italy—No, damn it, (says anHop. Come, come, away with your brooms, other, taking snuff) I saw the very same thing at and clear the stage; the managers will be here Paris ;' when you all know here, behind the directly. (The Sweepers hurry off.) Where are scenes, that the whole design came from this the carpenters?-Carpenters !

head; and the execution from these hands-but

nothing can be done by an Englishman now a A Carpenter above.

days; and so your servant, Mr. Hopkins. Car. What do you want, Mr. Hopkins?

[Going. Hop. What do I want? Come down, and set

Hop. Hark’ye, Saunders ? the managers have the scenes for the new Burletta of Orpheus.

ordered me to discharge the man at the lightnCar. We an't ready for it ; the beasts are now

ing; he was so drunk the last time he flashed, in hand-they an't finished.

that he has singed all the clouds on that side Hop. Not finished the beasts! here's fine horse fine the stage.

(Pointing to the clouds. work! the managers and author will be here

Saun. Yes, yes, I see it; and, harkye? he has directly, and nothing ready- fie, fie, fie!

burnt a hole in the new cascade, and set fire to Saunders Saunders !

the shower of rain-but mum(Calls out.

Hop. The deuce! he must be discharged diEnter SAUNDERS.


Exit SAUNDERS. Saun. Here! here !-Zooks, what a bawling

Pat. [Without.) Where's the prompter? you make! do keep your breath for your prompt

Hop. Here I am, sir.

, ing, Master Hopkins, and send it not after me at this rate-I'm not deaf!

Enter Patent. Hop. But your men are, and asleep too, I be- Pat. Make haste with your scenes, Saunders; here; I can't get a soul of them near me ; 'tis so, clear the stage, Mr. Hopkins, and let us go to ten o'clock, Looking at his watch.) and not a business. Is the extraordinary author of this scene prepared for the rehearsal; 'tis I sball be very extraordinary performance come yet! blamed, and not you.

Hop. Not yet, sir, but we shall be soon ready Saun, Blamed for wbat! Tis but a rehearsal, for him. 'Tis a very extraordinary thiog indeed, and of one act only--would you have us to finish to rehearse only one act of a performance, and our work, before the poet has done his? Don't with dresses and decorations, as if it were really you know, that carpenters are always the last in before an audience. the house and yet you want us to get out of it, Pat. It is a novelty, indecd, and a little exbefore the author has covered in!

pensive too, but we could not withstand the soHop. You may be as witty as you please; licitations, that were made to us; we shan't often bat the managers will do as they please, and repeat the same experiment. they have promised the author to rehearse the Hop. I hope not, sir; 'tis a very troublesome first act of bis Burletta of Orpheus this morning, one, and the performers murmur greatly at it.


Glib. Be quiet a little. You know, I suppose, Pat. I will prepare some tea and chocolate in that Cerberus is a dog, and has three heads? the green-room for the ladies, while the prompter Pat. I have heard as much.

prepares inatters for the rehearsal. Glib. Then you shall see some sport-He Lady Fuz. I never breakfast but once a day, shall be a comical dog, too, I warrant you, ba, Mr. Manager; Sir Toby, indeed, never refuses ha, ha!

| any thing at any time; he's at it from morning Pat. What, is Cerberus a character in your till night. performance?

Sir Toby. I love to be social, my dear; beGlib, Capital, capital! I have thrown all my sides, trifling with tea, chocolate, macaroons, fancy and invention into his mouth, or rather bisquets, and such things, is never reckoned mouths—there are three of them, you know, eating, you know.

Pat. Most certainly, if there are three heads. Glib. You are indefatigably obliging, Mr. PaGlib. Poh, that's nothing to what I have intent.

[Erit Patent. petto for you-Observe me now-when Orpheus Miss Fuz. Bless me, papa, what a strange comes to the gates of hell, Cerberus stops him- place this is ! I am sure I should not have known but how, how now for it-guess

it again—I wonder wbere he is! I wish I could Pat. Upon my soul, I can't gues.

get a peep at him; and yet I am frighted out of Glib. I make his three heads sing a trio. iny wits.

[ Aside, and looking about. Pat. A trio?

Sir Toby. Now the manager is gone, one may Glib. A trio! I knew I should hit you-a venture to say, that the play-house is no morntrio, treble, tenor, and bass—and what shall they ing beauty; paint and candle-light are as great sing? nothing in the world but, Bow, wow, wow! friends to the theatres, as to the ladies; they Orpheus begins

hide many wrinkles-don't they, Mr. Glib? ha,

ha, ha! O bark not, Cerberus, nor grin

Glib. You have hit it, Sir Toby, and this is A stranger, sure, to pass within,

the old house, too, ha, ha, ha! Your goodness will allow !

[Sir Toby shews his daughter the scenes. Bow, wow, wow!

Lady Fuz. (Looking about with a glass.] My

dear Sir Toby, you, you may be as sarcastical Treble, tenor, and bass—Then Orpheus shall | as you please; but I protest, a play-house is a tickle his lyre, and treble, tenor, and bass, shall prodigious odd sort of a thing, now there is nofall asleep by degrees, and one after another, body in it-is it not, Sir Macaroni? fainter and fainter-Bow, wow, wow-fast, you Sir Mac. O yes, and a prodigious odd sort of uoderstand me!

a thing, when 'tis full too-I abominate a playPat. Very ingenious, and very new I hope house; my ingenious countrymen have no taste the critics will understand it.

now for the bigh seasoned comedies; and I am Glib. I will make every body understand it, sure that I have none for the pap and loplolly of or my name is not Derry-down Glib-When I our present writers. write, the whole town shall understand me-You Glib. Bravo, Sir Macaroni! I would not give onderstand me?

a pin for a play, no more than a partridge, that Pat. Not very clearly, sir; but it is no matter has not the fumet. -Here's your company.

Sir Mac. Not amiss, faith! ha, ha, ha!

Lady Fuz. Don't let us lose time, Mr. Glib; Enter Sir Toby, Lady Fuz, Sir MACARONI

if they are not ready for the rehearsal, suppose VIRTU, and Miss Fuz.

the manager entertains us with thunder and

lightning, and let us see his traps, and his whims, Glib. Ladies and gentlemen, you do me ho- and harlequin pantomimes. nour; Mr. Patent, Sir Toby, and Miss Fuz, and Sir Toby. And a shower of rain, or an eclipse; this, Sir Macaroni Virtu. [All bow and curtsey.] and I must beg one peep at the Patagonians. Sir Toby, one of the managers.

Miss Fuz. Pray, Mr. Glib, let us have some [Introducing PATENT. thunder and lightning. Sir Toby. I am one of the manager's most Glib. Your commands shall be obeyed, Miss; humble and obedient.

I'll whip up to the clouds, and be your Jupiter Glib. I take it as a most particular compli Tonans in a crack.

[Erit. ment, Sir Macaroni, that you would attend my Sir Mac. A play-house in England is to me trifle at so early an hour.

as dull as a church, and fit only to sleep io. Sir Mac. Why, faith, Glib, without a compli- ' Lady Fuz. Sir Toby thinks so, too---I'll tell ment, I had much rather be in bed than here, or you what happened the last time we were any where else.

Yawns. there. Lady Fuz. I have a prodigious curiosity to Miss Fuz. Ay, do, my dear lady, tell what see your play-house by day-light, Mr. Manager: happened to papa; 'twas very droll. tave not you, Sir Macaroni ?

I Sir Toby. Fic, fe, Fanny !---my lady, you Sir Múc. Ono, mny lady, I never have any cu- should not tell tales out of school. Twas an riosity to see it at all.

[Half asleep. accident,

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