Con. Did you intend to give the part to Fitzcharles? They say you are smitten in that quarter. She’ll listen to you. She delights in literary men—but they are not the wise men who know themselves to be fools.
Fle. I did not intend to give the part to Fitzcharles, I am not smitten with her, and you know that well.
Con. Well, now, we must attend particularly to the scene when the father and daughter recognize each other. I candidly confess that at present I have no idea of it. When I exclaim “My father!” I always feel inclined to laugh.
Fle. Then that would damn the piece.
Con. Hush! Let us hope that I shall find it no laughing matter on the day of representation.
Fle. Most fervently, I hope so.
Con. Ah! you must send some one for my part; I have left it at home.
Fle. You go to the rehearsal without your part, and you don’t know a word of it.
Con. But I have the credit of knowing it, for I spoke to my cue.
Fle. Not without a prompter; I’ll send for it. Jones! Jones! Where is he? Jones! Jones!