_Lady W._ [_Without._] Tell my lord, sir, I'll wait in the library.

_Mari._ Oh lord! my aunt, what's to be done?

_Vapid._ What's to be done!--why?

_Mari._ She mustn't find you here--she'll be the death of us, she is so
violent.

_Vapid._ Well, I'm not afraid--she's no manager.

_Mari._ If you have any pity for me--here--hide yourself for a moment
behind this sofa, and I'll get her out of the room directly.

_Vapid._ Behind the sofa! here's an incident!

_Mari._ Nay--pray--she's here! come--quick!--quick!--

[_VAPID gets behind the Sofa, MARIANNE sits on it, takes
out her work bag, and begins singing----_

_Mari._ Toll de roll, &c.

_Enter LADY WAITFOR'T._

_Lady._ Marianne, how came you here? I desire you'll leave the room
directly.

_Mari._ Leave the room, aunt?

_Lady._ Yes, leave the room immediately--what are you looking at?

_Mari._ Nothing, aunt, nothing--Lord! lord! what will become of poor,
poor Mr Poet? [_Exit._

_Lady._ So--here's my lord--now to mention Ennui's play, and if it does
but prejudice him against him, Willoughby marries Louisa, and Neville is
in my own power.

_Enter LORD SCRATCH._

_Lord._ That curst pantomime ruffian! nobody knows any thing about
him--perhaps my lady has got a sudden touch of the dramatic mania, and
prefers him--here she is--now if she would talk about the stage.

_Lady._ Pray be seated, my lord--I want to ask you a favour.

_Lord._ Ask me a favour? Is it possible? [_They sit._

_Lady._ Yes, for your friend Ennui--what do you think he has done?

_Lord._ What?

_Lady._ Turned author.--He has written a comedy.

_Lord._ A comedy!--she has it.

_Lady._ Yes--it's very true, and it has been approved of by men of the
first dramatic fame.

_Lord._ Dramatic fame! she has it!--dam'me, she has it!

_Lady._ Nay, if you need farther proof, my lord, it has been approved by
the manager of one of the theatres, and the curtain is to draw up next
winter.

_Lord._ The curtain draw up!--Look ye, madam, I care no more for the
manager or his theatre----

_Lady._ Now, my lord, the favour I have to ask of you is this--promise
me to peruse the play, make alterations, and write the epilogue.

_Lord._ The epilogue!--fire and forefathers! [_LADY holds him._

_Lady._ Ay, or the prologue.

_Lord._ The prologue! blood and gunpowder!

[_VAPID comes from behind the sofa,