Chapter 19

_Wit_. Oh! Luckless, I am overjoyed to meet you; here, take this paper, and you will be discouraged from writing, I warrant you.

_Luck_. What is it?--Oh! one of my play-bills.

_Wit_. One of thy play-bills!

_Luck_. Even so--I have taken the advice you gave me this morning.

_Wit_. Explain.

_Luck_. Why, I had some time since given this performance of mine to be rehearsed, and the actors were all perfect in their parts; but we happened to differ about some particulars, and I had a design to have given it over; 'till having my play refused by Marplay, I sent for the managers of the other house in a passion, joined issue with them, and this very evening it is to be acted.

_Wit_. Well, I wish you success.

_Luck_. Where are you going?

_Wit_. Anywhere but to hear you damned, which I must, was I to go to your puppet-show.

_Luck_. Indulge me in this trial; and I assure thee, if it be successless, it shall be the last.

_Wit_. On that condition I will; but should the torrent run against you, I shall be a fashionable friend and hiss with the rest.

_Luck_. No, a man who could do so unfashionable and so generous a thing as Mr Witmore did this morning----

_Wit_. Then I hope you will return it, by never mentioning it to me more. I will now to the pit.

_Luck_. And I behind the scenes.