Promp. Then, sir, you must give the part to somebody else; for the present is so lame he can hardly walk the stage.
Fust. Then he shall be carried, for no man in England can act a ghost like him. Sir, he was born a ghost—he was made for the part—and the part writ for him.
Promp. Well, sir, then we hope you will give us leave to rehearse the comedy first.
Fust. Ay, ay, you may rehearse it first, if you please, and act it first too. If it keeps mine back above three nights, I am mistaken. I don't know what friends the author may have; but if ever such stuff, such damned, incoherent, senseless stuff, was ever brought on any stage—if the audience suffer it to go through three acts—Oh! he's here.
Enter TRAPWIT.
Dear Mr Trapwit! your most humble servant, sir; I read your comedy over last night, and a most excellent one it is: if it runs as long as it deserves you will engross the whole season to yourself.
Trap. Sir, I am glad it met with your approbation, as there is no man whose taste and judgment I have a better opinion of. But pray, sir, why don't they proceed to the rehearsal of your tragedy? I assure you, sir, I had much difficulty to get hither so early.
2 Play. Yes, faith, I believe you had. [Aside.
Fust. Sir, your comedy is to be rehearsed first.
Trap. Excuse me, sir, I know the deference due to tragedy better.