[Music ceases.
MABEL. Yes; (sadly) I find him changed.
POM. Changed? transformed! He is now the prop of the Cocoa-tree—the star of Ranelagh—the Lauzum of the Green Room.
MABEL. The green room?
POM. Ah, I forgot! you are fresh from Eden; the Green Room, my dear madam, is the bower where fairies put off their wings and goddesses become dowdies—where Lady Macbeth weeps over her lap-dog’s indigestion, and Belvidera groans over the amount of her last milliner’s bill. In a word, the Green Room is the place where actors and actresses become mere men and women, and the name is no doubt derived from the general character of its unprofessional visitors.
MABEL. And is it possible that Ernest, Mr. Vane, frequents such places?
POM. He has earned in six months a reputation that many a fine gentleman would give his ears for—not a scandalous journal he has not figured in—not an actress of reputation or no reputation, but gossip has given him for a conquest.
MABEL. You forget, sir, you are speaking to his wife.
POM. On the contrary, madam; but you would be sure to learn this, and it is best you should learn it at once and from a friend.
MABEL. Is it the office of a friend to calumniate the husband to the wife?