issed with yet warmer objections. No piece could be proposed that
did not supply somebody with a difficulty, and on one side or the other
it was a continual repetition of, "Oh no, _that_ will never do! Let us
have no ranting tragedies. Too many characters. Not a tolerable
woman's part in the play. Anything but _that_, my dear Tom. It would be
impossible to fill it up. One could not expect anybody to take such a
part. Nothing but buffoonery from beginning to end. _That_ might do,
perhaps, but for the low parts. If I _must_ give my opinion, I have
always thought it the most insipid play in the English language. _I_ do
not wish to make objections; I shall be happy to be of any use, but I
think we could not chuse worse."

Fanny looked on and listened, not unamused to observe the selfishness
which, more or less disguised, seemed to govern them all, and wondering
how it would end. For her own gratification she could have wished that
something might be acted, for she had never seen even half a play, but
everything of higher consequence was against it.

"This will never do," said Tom Bertram at last. "We are wasting time
most abominably. Something must be fixed on. No matter what, so that
something is chosen. We must not be so nice. A few characters too many
must not frighten us. We must _double_ them. We must descend a little.
If a part is insignificant, the greater our credit in making anything of
it. From this moment I make no difficulties. I take any part you chuse
to give me, so as it be comic. Let it but be comic, I condition for
nothing more."

For about the fifth time he then proposed the Heir at Law, doubting only
whether to prefer Lord Duberley or Dr. Pangloss for himself; and very
earnestly, but very unsuccessfully, trying to persuade the others that
there were some fine tragic parts in the rest of the dramatis personae.

The pause which followed this fruitless effort was ended by the same
speaker, who, taking up one of the many volumes of plays that lay on the
table, and turning it over, suddenly exclaimed--"Lovers' Vows! And why
should not Lovers' Vows do for _us_ as well as for the Ravenshaws? How
came it never to be thought of before? It strikes me as if it would do
exactly. What say you all? Here are two capital tragic parts for Yates
and Crawford, and here is the rhyming Butler for me, if nobody else
wants it; a trifling part, but the sort of thing I should not dislike,
and, as I said before, I am determined