Plag. None.
Cank. Nor groaning?
Plag. Not one, Sir.
Cank. Well if such Plays go down——
Plag. I pulled out my Handkerchief and blowed—and coughed—and hawked—and spit, a hundred times I believe, (Makes a noise by blowing in his Handkerchief) but was constantly interrupted with "Silence—pray, Sir, be silent—let us hear."
Grub. I heard you from the other side of the Pit and did the same but was interrupted too by the Fools about me.
Cank. To see the partiality of Audiences—Idiots—damn 'em, they never would attend to a Play of mine.
Grub. Nor mine.
Plag. No nor mine.
Cank. They always begun with me in the first Act by calling for the Epilogue. Dear Plagiary, do you think this thing will run?