Nev. Then she has heard yours, and admires your genius; however, read the letter, and be satisfied she loves you.
[Vapid reads.
Arrived at Bath—duty I owe—virtuous part of mankind—beheld your merit—wish to encourage—six this evening.—A. Waitfor't—Grove.
Vapid. Yes, yes, it's plain enough now—she admires my talents!—It isn't the first time, Neville, this has happened.—Sweet fond fool!—I'll go and prepare myself directly.
Nev. Ay do, Vapid,—she'll be all on fire to see you.
Vapid. All on fire! I suppose so.—Write a play, Neville, write a play—you see the effect of the muses and graces when they unite—you see, Neville, you see——but, hold, hold—how the devil came you by this letter?
Nev. That's true enough. [Aside.] I'll tell you—I was at her party last night, and on coming out of the room she slipt it into my hand, and desired me to direct it, and give it to you—She has often spoke to me in your favour, and I did you all the good I could—however, to be sure it's no mistake, ask the servant, who admits you, if the name at the bottom is not her own hand-writing.
Vapid. Oh, no!—it's no mistake,—there's no doubt of the matter.—Write a play, Neville, write a play—and charm the ladies, you dog!—adieu!
[Exit.
Ennui. I've an idea—if we've common fortune, this will do every thing.