"This," said Elliston, drawing out a small unbound volume from his pocket, "this is the French farce from which Kemble has taken the new piece he is to bring out next Thursday. What think you of our getting it up the same evening?"
"Let me see it," said Livius. Elliston desired that he would translate a few lines.
George Lamb and Elliston together, after they had listened to a page or two, with one voice exclaimed, "Very stupid."
"Mine is but mere literal translation," said Livius. "Harriette, no doubt, could make something of it."
"Will you oblige me by undertaking it, madam?" inquired Elliston, "and completing it in two days?"
"If anybody can be found to accomplish the songs," I observed, "I won't be behindhand."
"I will rhyme them in English," said George Lamb, "if you really wish it."
"And I will set them to music," added Livius, "provided Mr. Lamb will sit up all night to get them done in time for me."
"I think it wont answer," said George, "and be only tiring the poor performers, as well as ourselves, to no purpose; but, if you really have fixed your heart upon the thing, I will devote a night, and finish the songs."
Elliston waxed more generous as he waxed more drunk, and suddenly throwing the farce behind the fire, exclaimed, "This competition with the other house is paltry and ungentlemanlike. I will have none of it. It is in too bad a taste; besides," said he, half in mockery, "Mr. Livius's piece is to have such a run, we shall want nothing else all the season!"