Though all thy force were armed to bar my way.”
TRIP. (aside, R.). Mrs. Woffington, the great original of my picture!
WOFF. (L.) “But like the birds, great nature’s happy commoners
Rifle the sweets”—I beg your pardon, sir!
TRIP. Nay, madam, pray continue; happy the hearer and still happier the author of verses so spoken.
WOFF. Yes, if you could persuade the authors how much they owe us, and how hard it is to find good music for indifferent words. Are you an author, sir?
TRIP. In a small way, madam; I have here three tragedies.
WOFF. (looking down at them with comical horror). Fifteen acts, mercy on us!
TRIP. Which if I could submit to Mrs. Woffington’s judgment——
WOFF. (recoiling). I am no judge of such things, sir.