nother person reads it, one often hits on a thought that might
otherwise have escaped; then, perhaps, he would have hit on that cursed
half line, I have so long been working at.

_Peter._ Sir, if it is not impertinent, and you'd permit me to read it--

_Vapid._ You read it!

_Peter._ Yes, sir, if you'd allow me that honour.

_Vapid._ 'Faith, I should have no objection,--but wouldn't it lower
one's dignity? No, no, Moliere used to read his plays to his servants,
so I believe all's regular.--Come, sir, begin.
[_PETER reading Epilogue._

In ancient times, when agonizing wars,
And bleeding nations, fill'd the world with jars;
When murder, battle, sudden death, prevail'd,
When----

_Vapid._ Stop--stop--I have it: not a word for your life; I feel
it--it's coming on--the last line directly--quick! quick!
[_PETER reads._

The tyrant totters, and the senate nods,
Die all, die nobly!----

_Peter._ Here's something wanting, sir.

_Vapid._ I know it, say nothing--I have it--
[_Walks backwards and forwards._

The tyrant totters, and the senate nods,
Die all, die nobly!----

Oh, damn it! damn it! damn it!--that cursed half line!--I shall never
accomplish it--all so chaste--all so correct,--and to have it marr'd for
want of one half line,--one curst half line! I could almost weep for
disappointment.

_Peter._ Never mind, sir, don't perplex yourself,--put in any thing.

_Vapid._ Put in any thing! why, 'tis the last line, and the epilogue
must end with something striking, or it will be no trap for applause--no
trap for applause, after all this fine writing!--Put in any thing!--what
do you mean, sirrah?

_Peter._ Methinks this is a strange epilogue to a comedy--[_Knock at the
door._]--Perhaps this is my master--[_Looks out._]--no, as I live, 'tis
Mr Floriville and Miss Courtney! she mustn't on any account be seen by
this gentleman.

_Vapid._ Well, who is it?--"The tyrant totters"--

_Peter._ Sir, it's a friend of my master's who has brought a lady with
him--I'm sure you've too much gallantry to interrupt an amour; and,
therefore, you'll be kind enough to get out of the way directly.

_Vapid._ Get out of the way! what the devil, in the middle of my
composition?--"Die all, die nobly"--

_Peter._ Nay, sir, only step for a moment into this closet