Clink. Beyond all patience! the part, Sir, lies before you; you are never to perplex the drama with speeches extempore.
Plot. Madam, 'tis what the top players often do.
Town. Though love denies, companion bids me save thee.
[Plotwell kisses her.
Clink. Fye, Mr. Plotwell; this is against all the decorum of the stage; I will no more allow the libertinism of lip-embraces than the barbarity of killing on the stage; your best tragedians, like the ladies of quality in a visit, never turn beyond the back-part of the cheek to a salute, as thus Mr. Plotwell.
[Kisses Plotwell.
Plot. I don't find in Aristotle any precept against killing.
Clink. Yet I would not stand upon the brink of an indecorum.
Plot. True, madam, the finishing stroke of love and revenge should never shock the eyes of an audience. But I look upon a kiss in a comedy to be upon a par with a box on the ear in a tragedy, which is frequently given and taken by your best authors.
Clink. Mighty just! for a lady can no more put up a kiss than a gentleman a box on the ear.
Take my muse, Sir, into your protection [Gives him her play] the players I see are here. Your personating the author will infallibly introduce my play on the stage, and spite of their prejudice, make the theatre ring with applause, and teach even [that injudicious Canaille] to know their own interest.
Exit.
