WOFF. Do you know your portrait has merit? I will give you a sitting for the last touches.
TRIP. Oh, madam!
WOFF. And bring all the critics—there, no thanks or I’ll stay away. Stay, I must have your address.
TRIP. (returning to her). On the fly leaf of each work, madam, you will find the address of James Triplet, painter, actor, and dramatic author, and Mrs. Woffington’s humble and devoted servant. (Bows ridiculously low, moves away, but returns with an attempt at a jaunty manner.) Madam, you have inspired a son of Thespis with dreams of eloquence; you have tuned to a higher key a poet’s lyre; you have tinged a painter’s existence with brighter colours; and—and—(gazes on her and tries in vain to speak) God in heaven bless you, Mrs. Woffington!
[Exit L. hastily.
WOFF. So! I must look into this!
[Enter Sir Charles Pomander L.]
POM. Ah, Mrs. Woffington, I have just parted with an adorer of yours.
WOFF. I wish I could part with them all.