Whoever is the author of this comedy, he has not written up with spirit to that delightful Louis the Fifteenth linen cupboard.
I cannot catch a word "Macbeth" is saying, but I can see at a glance that his kilt would be extremely cheap at seventy pounds.
I am not surprised to hear that the "Tartar's lips" for the cauldron alone add nightly something like fifty-five-and-sixpence to the expenses.
Do not bother me about the situation when I am looking at the quality of the velvet pile.
Since the introduction of the live hedgehog into domestic drama obliged the management to raise the second-tier private boxes to forty guineas, the Duchess has gone into the slips with an order.
They had, perhaps, better take away the champagne-bottle and the diamond-studded whistle from the prompter.
Ha! here comes the chorus of villagers, provided with real silk pocket-handkerchiefs.
It is all this sort of thing that elevates the drama, and makes me so contented to part with a ten-pound note for an evening's amusement.