FUSTIAN. Sir, I can deny you nothing.-Ay, I have a few tickets in my pockets. [Pulls out a vast quantity of Paper. MACHINE. Gentlemen, I must beg you to clear the stage entirely for in things of this serious nature, if we do not comply with the exactest decency, the audience will be very justly offended. : FUSTIAN. Things of a serious nature! Oh, the devil! MACHINE. Harkye, Prompter, who is that figure there? PROMPTER. That, sir, is Mr. Fustian, author of the new tragedy. MACHINE. Oh! I smoke him, I smoke him. But Mr. Prompter, I must insist that you cut out a great deal of Othello, if my pantomime is performed with it, or the audience will be palled before the entertainment begins. PROMPTER. We'll cut out the fifth act, sir, if you please. MACHINE. Sir, that's not enough, I'll have the first cut out too. FUSTIAN. Death and the devil! Can I bear this? Shall Shakespeare be mangled to introduce this trumpery? PROMPTER. Sir, this gentleman brings more money to the house than all the poets put together. MACHINE. Pugh, pugh, Shakespeare!Come, let down the curtain, and play away the overture.-Prompter, to your post. [The curtain draws up, discovers Phaeton leaning against the scene. SCENE.-A Cobbler's Stall. Enter CLYMENE. SNEERWELL. Pray, sir, who are these extraordinary fig ures? MACHINE. He leaning against the scene is Phaeton; and the lady is Clymene; or Clymene as they call her in Drury Lane. This scene, sir, is in the true altercative, or scolding style of the ancients. Come, madam, begin. |