Mar. Lord, Mr. Powell, these Men are not half tall enough, nor half big enough! What shall I do for a larger sort of Men?
Mr. Pow. Faith, Madam, I can't tell, they say the Race diminishes every Day.
Mar. Ay, so they do with a witness, Mr. Powell. Oh, these puny Fellows will spoil the Design of my Prologue! Hark ye! Mr. Powell, you know the huge tall Monster, that comes in one Play, which was taken Originally from Bartholomew-fair Against this, is spoke Publickly; cou'd not we contrive to dress up two such things, twou'd set the Upper-Gallery a Clapping like mad? And let me tell you, Mr. Powell, that's a Clapping not to be despis'd.
Mr. Pow. We'll see what may be done; But, Madam, you had as good hear these speak it now.
Mar. Well, Sheep-biters, begin!
1st.——Well, Brother Monster, what do you do here!
Mars. Ah! And t'other looks no more like a Monster than I do; speak it fuller in the Mouth Dunce. Well, Brother Monster, what do you do here?
1st.——Well, Brother Monster, what do you do here?
2d.——I come to put the Criticks in a mortal Fear.
Mars. O Heav'ns! You shou'd have every thing that is terrible in that Line! You shou'd speak it like a Ghost, like a Giant, like a Mandrake, and you speak it like a Mouse.