Fust. I can't say so, unless I tasted it.
Trap. Faith, sir, if it had not been for that dram my play had been at an end.
Fust. The devil take the dram with all my heart!
Trap. Now, Mr Fustian, the plot, which has hitherto been only carried on by hints, and opened itself like the infant spring by small and imperceptible degrees to the audience, will display itself like a ripe matron, in its full summer's bloom; and cannot, I think, fail with its attractive charms, like a loadstone, to catch the admiration of every one like a trap, and raise an applause like thunder, till it makes the whole house like a hurricane. I must desire a strict silence through this whole scene. Colonel, stand you still on this side of the stage; and, miss, do you stand on the opposite.—There, now look at each other. A long silence here.
Fust. Pray, Mr Trapwit, is nobody ever to speak again?
Trap. Oh! the devil! You have interrupted the scene; after all my precautions the scene's destroyed; the best scene of silence that ever was penned by man. Come, come, you may speak now; you may speak as fast as you please.
Col. Madam, the army is very much obliged to you for the zeal you shew for it; me, it has made your slave for ever; nor can I ever think of being happy unless you consent to marry me.
Miss M. Ha! and can you be so generous to forgive all my ill usage of you?
Fust. What ill usage, Mr Trapwit? For, if I mistake not, this is the first time these lovers spoke to one another.
Trap. What ill usage, sir? a great deal, sir.