Fitz-Growl.—Some spirit, sir! there is a ghost in it.
Manager.—A ghost, my dear sir! that won't do for my theatre; my audience would have too much sense for a thing of that kind.
Fitz-Growl.—Then you'll never do any good, sir; but, may I ask what sort of pieces you intend producing?
Manager.—Variety and novelty, sir, will be my aim.
Fitz-Growl.—Novelty! then my piece is the very thing. I sink the whole stage.
Manager.—Thank you; but I'd rather leave the task of sinking the stage to others; my aim shall be to raise it.
Fitz-Growl.—My dear sir, you know nothing of effect; if you could only cover the stage with people, and then let them all down at once, it would be terrific!
Manager.—My dear sir, I don't want to cover my stage with people, and then let them down; I'd sooner hold my performers up than see them let down.
Fitz-Growl.—That's very fine talking; but you must get the money, and I can assure you mine are the only pieces to do it.
Manager.—Indeed, sir; then I'm too generous to my fellow-managers to think of monopolising the only author whose pieces will draw.