Truff. Then let that rose-your fittest representative-answer for you.

Miss T. [Tremulously taking a rose from her bouquet, and giving it] Take it-it is myself.

Truff. [Taking the rose from his lapel, and presenting it] And this is me!

[Enter, unobserved, FLORENTINE and BESSY, on one

side, and BANTAM and CHICKEN on the other. Miss T. Is it too late to take it back again?

Truff. It is impounded by Hymen; and again to take it would be to rob the church.

[MISS TUCKER, seeing FLORENTINE, screams, and then deliberately faints, supported by TRUFFLES.

Tableau.

Scene: DangLE'S House. MR. DANGLE, Mrs. DanGLE, and SNEER discovered sitting near a table. Dangle has a newspaper. Enter Servant, L.

Serv. Sir Fretful Plagiary, sir.

Dan. Beg him to walk up. [Exit SERVANT, L.] Now, Mrs. Dangle, Sir Fretful Plagiary is an author to your own taste.

Mrs. D. I confess he is a favorite of mine, because every body else abuses him.

Sneer. Very much to the credit of your charity, madam, if not of your judgment.

Dan. But, egad, he allows no merit to any author but himself, that's the truth on 't-though he's my friend.

Sneer. Never. He is as envious as an old maid verging on the desperation of six-and-thirty.

Dan. Very true, egad―though he's my friend.

Sneer. Then his affected contempt of all newspaper strictures; though, at he same time, he is the sorest man alive, and shrinks, like scorched parchment, from the fiery ordeal of true criticism.

Dan. There's no denying it-though he is my friend.

Sneer. You have read the tragedy he has just finished, haven't you?

Dan. Oh, yes; he sent it to me yesterday. Sneer. Well, and you think it execrable, do n't you?

Dan. Why, between ourselves, egad, I must own -though he's my friend-that it is one of the most -[Aside] he's here-finished and most admirable perform―

Sir F. [Without, L.] Mr. Sneer with him, did you say?

[Enter SIR FRETFUL, L. He crosses to L. C. Dan. Ah, my dear friend!-Egad, we were just speaking of your tragedy.-Admirable, Sir Fretful, admirable!

Sneer. (R. C.) You never did any thing beyond it Sir Fretful-never in your life.

Sir F. (L. C.) You make me extremely happy; for without a compliment, my dear Sneer, there is n't a man in the world whose judgment I value as I do yours-and Mr. Dangle's.

Mrs. D. (R.) They are only laughing at you, Sir Fretful, for it was but just now that—

Dan. (L.) Mrs. Dangle! Ah, Sir Fretful, you

A. A. 22.

know Mrs. Dangle. My friend, Sneer, was rallying just now He knows how she admires you, and—

Sir F. Oh, Lord, I am sure Mr. Sneer has more taste and sincerity than to-[Aside] A despicable double-faced fellow!

Dan. Yes, yes-Sneer will jest-but a better humored

Sir F. Oh, I know—

Dan. He has a ready turn for ridicule-his wit costs him nothing.

Sir F. [Aside] No, egad-or I should wonder how he came by it.

Mrs. D. [Aside] Because his jest is always at the expense of his friend.

Dan. But, Sir Fretful, have you sent your play to the managers yet? or can I be of any service to you?

Sir F. [Pompously] No, no, I thank you; I sent it to the manager of Covent Garden Theatre this morning.

Sneer. I should have thought, now, that it might have been cast, as the actors call it, better at Drury Lane.

Sir F. Oh, lud! no-never send a play there while I live-harkee! [Whispers to SNEER.

Sneer.

Writes himself! I know he doesSir F. I say nothing—I take away from no man's merit—am hurt at no man's good fortune-I say nothing. But this I will say - through all my knowledge of life, I have observed-that there is not

a passion so strongly rooted in the human heart as envy!

Sneer. I believe you have reason for what you say, indeed.

Sir F. Besides-I can tell you it is not always so safe to leave a play in the hands of those who write themselves.

Sneer. What, they may steal from them, hey, my dear Plagiary?

Sir F. Steal!-to be sure they may; and, egad, serve your best thoughts as gipsies do stolen children-disfigure them to make 'em pass for their own. Sneer. But your present work is a sacrifice to Melpomene, and he, you know, never

Sir F. That's no security. A dexterous plagiarist may do any thing.-Why, sir, for aught I know, he might take out some of the best things in my tragedy, and put them into his own comedy.

Sneer. That might be done, I dare be sworn.

Sir F. And then, if such a person gives you the least hint or assistance, he is devilish apt to take the merit of the whole

Dan. If it succeeds.

Sir F. Aye-but with regard to this piece, I think I can hit that gentleman, for I can safely swear he never read it.

Sneer. I'll tell you how you may hurt him