Lady. Yes—it's very true, and it has been approved of by men of the first dramatic fame.
Lord. Dramatic fame! she has it!—dam'me, she has it!
Lady. Nay, if you need farther proof, my lord, it has been approved by the manager of one of the theatres, and the curtain is to draw up next winter.
Lord. The curtain draw up!—Look ye, madam, I care no more for the manager or his theatre——
Lady. Now, my lord, the favour I have to ask of you is this—promise me to peruse the play, make alterations, and write the epilogue.
Lord. The epilogue!—fire and forefathers!
[Lady holds him.
Lady. Ay, or the prologue.
Lord. The prologue! blood and gunpowder!
[Vapid comes from behind the sofa, and smacks him on the back.