vard, sir, if you treat a gentilhomme of my rank and qualité, comme ça,-depend upon it, I shall be a little en cavalier, vit you.

Esop. Pray, sir, of what rank and quality are you?

French. Sir, I am a marquis Français;-- j'entends les beaux arts, sir;--I have been an avanturier all over de varld, and am at present in Angleterre-in England; vere I am more honoré and caress, den ever I was in my own countrée; or, indeed, any vere else.

Esop. And pray, sir, what is your business in England? French. I am arrive dere, sir,-pour polir la nation;— de Inglis, have too much a lead in dere heels, and too much tought in their head; so, sir, if I can lighten bote, I shall make dem tout-a-fait, Français, and quite another ting.

Esop. And pray, sir, in what particular accomplishment does your merit consist?

French. Sir, I speak de French,-j'ai bonne addresse,— I dance un minuet,-I sing des litel chansons,—and I have,―une tolérable assurance :—enfin, sir,—my merit consist in one vard,-I am foreignere,—and, entre vous,— vile de Inglis be so great a fool, to love de foreignere, better dan demselves,-de foreignere would still be more great a fool, did dey not leave dere own country,—vere dey have noting at all,—and come to Inglande, vere dey vant for noting at all;-Parbleu,—cela n'est ce pas vrai? Monsieur Æsop.

Now,

Æsop. Well, sir, what is your business with me? French. Attendez un peu ;—you shall hear, sir ;—I am in love vid de grande fortune of one Inglis lady ;—and de lady, she be in love with my qualité and bagatelles. sir, me want twenty or tirty douzains of your vaters,-for fear I be oblige to leave Inglande, before I have fini dis grande affaire.

Esop. Twenty or thirty dozen? For what?

French. For my crediteurs; to make'em forget de vay to my logements,—and no trouble me for de future.

Esop. What, you have so many creditors?

French. So many. Begar, I have 'em,-dans tous les quartiers de la ville,—in all parts of the town, faitÆsop. Wonderful and surprising!

French. Vonderful?-Vat is vonderful?

borrow money

y?

Dat I should

Æsop. No, sir, that any body should lend it you.

French, En verité, vous vous trompez ; -- you do mistake it, mon ami; if fortune give me no money, nature give me des talents;-j'ai des talents, Monsieur Æsop,— vich are de same ting. Eh, bien donc !-sal I have dis twenty or tirty douzains of your vater?-Oui? ou non? Esop. 'Tis impossible, sir.

French. Impossible?-pourquoi donc ?-Vy not?

Esop. Because, if every fine gentleman who owes money should make the same demand, we should have no water left for our other customers.

French. Que voulez vous donc, que je fasse? Vat must I do, den, sir.

Esop. Marry the lady as soon as you can; pay your debts with part of her portion ;-drink the water to forget your extravagancies,―retire with her to your own country, and be a better economist for the future.

French. Go to my own country!-Je vous demande pardon, I had much rather stay vere I am; I cannot go dere upon my vard.

Esop. Why not, my friend?

French. Entre nous, I had much rather pass for one French Marquis in Inglande, keep bonne campagnie, manger des delicatesses, and do noting at all, dan keep a shop en Provence,-couper et frizzer les cheveux, and live upon soupe and salade de rest of my life.

Esop. I cannot blame you for your choice; and if other people are so blind as not to distinguish the barber from the fine gentleman, their folly must be their punishment, and you shall take the benefit of the water with them. French. Monsieur Æsop, sans flatterie, ou compliments, I am, your very humble serviteur, Jean Friperon, en Provence, ou le Marquis Français, en Angleterre.

FOOTE.

SYLVESTER DAGGERWOOD.

FUSTIAN and DAGGERWOOD discovered-FUSTIAN sitting in one chair, DAGGERWOOD asleep in another. The clock strikes eleven.

Fus. Eight, nine, ten, eleven? Zounds, eleven o'clock, and here I have been waiting ever since nine for an interview with the manager.

[A servant crosses. Hark ye, young man, is your master visible yet?

Serv. Sir?

Fus. I say, can I see your master.

Serv. He has two gentlemen with him at present, sir. Fus. Ay, the old answer. Who is this asleep here in

the chair?

Serv. Oh, that, sir, is a gentleman who wants to come out.

Fus. Come out! then wake him, and open the door. Gad! the greatest difficulty in this house is to get in.

Serv. Ha, ha! I mean he wants to appear on the stage, sir, 'tis Mr. Sylvester Daggerwood, of the Dunstable company.

Fus. O ho! a country candidate for a London truncheon, a sucking Prince of Denmark; he snores like a tinker; fatigued with his journey I suppose.

Serv. No, sir. He has taken a nap in this room for these five mornings, but has not been able to obtain an audience here yet.

Fus. No, nor at Dunstable, neither, I take it.

Serv. I am so loth to disturb him, poor gentleman, that I never wake him till a full half-hour after my master is gone out.

Fus. Upon my honour, that 's very obliging! I must keep watch here, I find, like a lynx. Well, friend you'll let your master know Mr. Fustian is here, when the two gentlemen have left him at leisure.

Serv. The moment they make their exit.

[Exit.

Fus. Make their exit! This fellow must have lived here some time, by his language, and I'll warrant him lies by rote like a parrot. [Sits down and pulls out a manuscript.]

If I could nail this manager for a minute, I'd read him such a tragedy.

Dag. [Dreaming.] Nay, and thou 'lt mouth-I'll rant as well as thou.

Fus. Eh! he's talking in his sleep! Acting Hamlet before twelve tallow candles in the country.

Dag. "To be, or not to be"

Fus. Yes, he 's at it: let me see. [Turning over the leaves of his play.] I think there's no doubt of its running. Dag. [Dreaming.] "That's the question" would fardels bear. . . ."

... who

Fus. Zounds! There's no bearing you! His grace's patronage will fill half the boxes, and I'll warrant we 'll stuff the critics in the pit.

Dag. [Dreaming] "To groan and sweat

When he himself might his quietus make."

Fus. Quietus! I wish with all my heart I could make yours. The Countess of Crambo insists on the best places for the first night of performance: she 'll sit in the stage box.

do

Dag. [Still dreaming.] "With a bare bodkin!”

Fus. O, the deuce, there's no enduring this! Sir, sir, you intend to sleep any more?

Dag. [Waking.] Eh! what? when?

Methought I heard a voice say, "Sleep no more!"

Fus. Faith, sir, you have heard something very like it; that voice was mine.

Dag. Sir, I am your servant to command, Sylvester Daggerwood-whose benefit is fixed for the 11th of June, by particular desire of several persons of distinction; you 'd make an excellent Macbeth, sir.

Fus. Sir!

Dag. Macbeth doth murder sleep, the innocent sleep, balm of hurt minds, great nature's second course-nay, and sometimes her first course too; when a dinner is unavoidably deferred, by your humble servant Sylvester Daggerwood.

Fus. I am very sorry, sir, you should ever have occasion to postpone so pleasant a performance.

Dag. Eating, sir, is a most popular entertainment, for man and horse, as I may say; but I am apt to appear nice

sir, and somehow or other, I never could manage to sit down to dinner in bad company.

Fus. Has your company been bad, then, of late, sir?

Dag. Very bad indeed, sir-the Dunstable company, where I have eight shillings a week, four bits of candle, one wife, three shirts, and nine children.

Fus. A very numerous family.

Dag. A crowded house to be sure, sir, but not very profitable. Mrs. Daggerwood, a fine figure, but, unfortunately, stutters, so of no use in the theatrical line; children too young to make a debut, except my eldest, Master Apollo Daggerwood, a youth only eight years old, who has twice made his appearance in Tom Thumb, to an overflowing and brilliant barn-house, I mean, with unbounded applause. Fus. Have you been long on the stage, Mr. Daggerwood?

Dag. Fifteen years since I first smelt the lamp, sir; my father was an eminent button maker, at Birmingham, and meant me to marry Miss Molly Mop, daughter to the rich director of coal works at Wolverhampton; but I had a soul above buttons, and abhorred the idea of a mercenary marriage. I panted for a liberal profession, so ran away from my father, and engaged with a travelling company of comedians. In my travels I had soon the happiness of forming a romantic attachment with the present Mrs. Daggerwood, wife to Sylvester Daggerwood, your humble servant to command, whose benefit is fixed for the 11th of June, by desire of several persons of distinction; so you see, sir, I have a taste.

Fus. Have you? then sit down and I'll read you my tragedy; I'm determined some one shall hear it before I go out of this house. [Sits down.

Dag. A tragedy; sir, I'll be ready for you in a moment; let me prepare for woe. [Takes out a very ragged pockethandkerchief.] "This handkerchief did an Egyptian to my mother give.'

Fus. Faith, I should think so; and to all appearance one of the Norwood party.

Dag. Now, sir, for your title, and then for the dramatis persona.

Fus. The title, I think, will strike; the fashion of plays,