[Snatches the book from Lady Amaranth,
throws it on the ground, and steps on it.
Rover. Trample on Shakspeare! "You sacrilegious thief, that, from a shelf the precious diadem stole, and put it in thy pocket!" [Takes up the book and presents it again to Lady Amaranth.] Silence, "thou owl of Crete," and hear the "Cuckoo's song."
Lady Am. To practise it I'm content.
[Lamp begins to play. Ephraim jostles
him, and puts him out of tune.
Lamp. Why, what's that for, my dear sir?
Eph. Friend, this is a land of freedom, and I've as much right to move my elbow as thou hast to move thine. [Rover pushes him.] Why dost thou so friend?
Rover. Friend, this is a land of freedom, and I have as much right to move my elbow, as thou hast to move thine.
[Mimicking, shoves Ephraim out.
Lady Am. But, Harry, do your people of fashion act these follies themselves.
Rover. Ay, and scramble for the top parts as eager as for star, ribband, place, or pension. Lamp, decorate the seats out smart and theatrical, and drill the servants that I've given the small parts to—