Gul. Gulwell, Madam-Pray, be feated.

Mrs Dog. I come, Mr Gulwell, to inquire after a perfon that can write short-hand-I want an amanuenfis.

Gul. An amanuenfis, Madam?

Mrs Dog. Yes, Sir, an amanuenfis, to take down my ideas. They flow upon me in fuch torrents, that I cannot commit them to paper a tenth part so fast as I could wish-My name, Sir, is not altogether unknown to the literary world. You have undoubtedly heard of the celebrated Mrs Slatternella Doggerel the dramatic poetefs-Hey, have not you?

Gu!. O yes, Madam, ten thousand times-Tho' the devil fetch me if ever I heard of the name before!—I thought he was of the rhiming fisterhood, or a mad woman, which is pretty much the fame. [Afide. What's your

Mrs Dog. I have written, Mr a-a name, Sir?

Girl. Gulwell, mama, is the gentleman's name. Mrs Dog. Ay, ay, child-I have written, Mr Gulwell, no less than nine tragedies, eight comedies, seven tragi-comedies, fix farces, five operas, four mafques, three oratorios, two mock-tragedies, and one tragi-comioperatico-magico-farcico-paftoral dramatic romance ;— making in the whole, as Scrub fays, five-and-forty, Girl. Yes, Sir, five-and-forty.

Gul. And pray, Madam, how many of them have been brought upon the stage?

Mrs Dog. Not one, Sir:-But that is no dimunition of their merit; for while the ftage is under the direction of people who fcribble themselves, it is no wonder they are fo backward in producing the works of others. As what do you call 'um fays in the play, "Who the devil cares for any man that has more wit than himself?"

Hey, Mr Gulwell!

Gul. Very true, Madam-But fuppofe we should beat about for a patron among the great?

Mrs Dog. A patron, quotha! Why, the very word, applied as an encourager of literary merit, is almoft obfolete. You might as foon find a real patriot as a real patron. Our great men are too much engaged in the trifles and follies of the age to give themselves any con

cern about dramatic genius-Indeed, if I could fubmit to write a treatise on the fcience of gaming, a new hi ftory of peerage, or an effay on improving the breed of running-horfes, perhaps fome of our right honourable jockies might vouchfafe to give me a recommendation to their brother jockeys of the theatrical turf.

Gul. Madam, I am of opinion, that a well-written pamphlet in favour of the miniftry could not fail of procuring you a patron.

Mrs Dog. And fo you would have me facrifice confcience to intereft, you ftrange creature you!

Gul. Conscience, Madam! what have authors, that write for bread, to do with conscience? A learned profeffor in the law, tho' he has amaffed even a ministerial fortune at the bar, will for a few guineas proftitute his eloquence by pleading in a bad caufe; then why should not a poor devil of an author, against his confcience, brandish his pen in a political fquabble, to keep himself from ftarving?

Mrs Dog. But what author of true genius could ever ftoop to write a parcel of dull ftuff about ins and outs? No, no; depend on't, the moft certain way to get my pieces on the stage will be to go upon the stage myself. -Many rickety dramatic brats have heen allowed to crawl upon the stage, which would never have made their theatrical appearance, if they had not been of theatrical parentage.

Gul. Madam, your obfervation is very juft.

Mrs Dog. But pray, what do you think of my perfon? With a large hoop, instead of this trollopee, should not I make a tolerably elegant figure in tragedy, nay, not to fay a magnificent one?

Gul. The moft elegant and magnificent in the world. Mrs Dog. I once play'd Belvidera with fome of my city-acquaintance, and got fuch prodigious applause, that Mr Alderman Loveturtle came waddling up to me, with a, Madam, you've play'd the part fo finely, that tho' I love good eating better than any thing in the world, I would mortify upon bread and water a whole month for the pleasure of feeing you play it again."

66

Gul. Madam, you are an excellent mimic.

Mrs Dog. And what has rais'd the reputation of fome VOL. III. performers

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performers fo much as mimicry?-But I'll give you a fpeech in Belvidera's mad fcene.

Gul. Madam, you will oblige me greatly.

Girl. My mama fpeaks it delightfully, I affure you, Sir.

Mrs Dog. Take my cap, Melpomene-I must have my hair about my ears; there is no playing a mad scene without difhevell'd hair.

"Ha! look there!

"My husband bloody, and his friend too!-vanish'd! "Here they went down!-O I'll dig, dig the den upHo! Jaffier! Jaffier!"

Girl. Pray, don't cry, mama, don't cry.

[Weeps. Mrs Dog. Pray, Mr Gulliver, lend me your hand to help me up-Well, what do you think of this acting? Gul. I'm aftonish'd at it- -Why don't you apply to the managers?

Girl. My mama did apply to one of them.

Mrs Dog. Yes, and fpoke that very speech.

Gul. And what did he fay, was he not in raptures? Mrs Dog. So far from it, that he did nothing all the while but titter, and he! he! he!

Girl. Yes, he did nothing but titter, and he! he! Gul. Titter, and he! he! he! (They all force a laugh.) Pray, has Miss any turn for the stage?

Mrs Dog. Yes, yes; I fhall breed her up myfelf. With her own capabilities, and my inftructions, I don't doubt but she will make all our tragedy heroines turn pale-She will eclipfe them all, I warrant her-I have already taught her the part of Sappho in my two-act tragedy of that name. Give the gentleman a fpeech, Mel

pomene.

Girl. Yes, mama- -Where fhall I begin?

Mrs Dog. At "O Phaon! Phaon !"—You are to obferve, Sir, that all my tragedies are written in heroics. I hate your blank verfe; it is but one remove from prose, and confequently not fublime enough for tragedyNow begin, Melly.

Girl. "O Phaon! Phaon! could my eyes impart "The fwelling throes and tumults of my heart!"

Mrs Dog. The fwelling throes and tumults of my heart!"-Child, you are too languid by ten thousand

degrees.

degrees. Your fifter Calliope would fpeak it abundantly better; nay, little Clio, that is not quite three years old, could not speak it worse- Give it more energy, child; fet yourself a-heaving like a tragedian out of breath-It fhould be spoke thus-" The fwelling throes and tumults of my heart!"

Girl." The fwelling throes and tumults of my heart,
"Thou never wouldft thy Sappho's love desert."
Mrs Dog. There's a pathetic fpeech for you!

Gul. Very pathetic indeed! and the dear little girl hath spoke it like an angel.

Mrs Dog. I'll now give you a touch of the pompous "By hell and vengeance!"-I forgot to tell you it is the turnkey's foliloquy in my tragedy of Betty Canning.

By hell and vengeance, Canning fhall be mine! "Her, but with life, I never can refign.

“Should Ætna bar my paffage to the dame,

Headlong I'd plunge into the fulphurous flame;
"Or, like the Titans, wage a war with Jove,
"Rather than lofe the object of my love."

Gul. Madam, this must have a fine effect. It will certainly bring the house down whenever it is play'd.

Mrs Dog. You fenfible creature, I must embrace you for the kind expreffion-Yes, yes, it must have a fine effect, or it never would have had a run of fifty nights-I affure you, it was play'd no less than fifty nights by Mr Flockton's company.

Gul. Flockton's company! Pray, who is Flockton? Mrs Dog. He is mafter of the beft company of-puppets in England.

I

Gul. So then your piece has been play'd by wooden actors, ha, ha, ha!

Mrs Dog. Wooden actors! And why this farcafm on wooden actors? Pray, Sir, let me ask you what piece is now-a-days play'd without wooden actors?Well, Mr a-Culpepper

Girl. Lud! mama, what a queer name is that! they call him Gullwell.

Mrs Dog. My dear, I knew his name began with either Gull or Cull- -I ask your pardon, Sir; I am fre quently fo envelop'd in thought, that I even forget my

Gg. 2

own

own name; I hope therefore you will not take it amiss that I fhould not remember yours.

Gul. No apology, Madam.

Mrs Dog. Well Mr-a-Gullcatcher, if you hear of an amanuenfis, pray give me the most early intelligence.

Gul. But I hope, madam, I fhall not offend you in asking you how he is to be paid?

Mrs Dog. Paid! why I really did not think of this— Let me fee-Suppofe-No, this won't do-hum-ay: He fhall have a tenth part of the profits of my future productions-He fhall tythe 'em.

Gul. Madam, I feel for your young mufes, and can diffemble with you no longer. Take my advice. Go immediately home, and burn all your pieces; for I am certain you'll never make a fhilling of them, unless you fell them for wafte paper.

Mrs Dog. Wafte paper! Heaven and earth! such excellent compofitions go for wafte paper!

Girl. Wafte paper indeed! I fhould not have thought of wafte paper!

Gul. Burn them all immediately. Give me your folemn promife to leave off fcribbling; and if any place worthy your acceptance fall in my way, I will endeavour to fix you in it.

Mrs Dog. What! facrifice immortality for a place?— I must tell you, Sir, you're an envious, impertinent, selffufficient puppy, to prefume to advise me, who have a million times your understanding.

Girl. Yes, a million times your understanding.

Mrs Dog. Wafte paper! O ye gods !—If I had the wealth of Crofus, I would give it all to be reveng'd on this affronting favage.

[Exit.

Girl. Ah! you're a naughty creature to vex my poor mama in this manner.

[Exit.

Gul. So! This comes of my plain-dealing. I am rightly ferv'd for endeavouring to wash the blackamoor white.

Re-enter Mrs Doggerel and Girl. Mrs Dog. I'm return'd to tell you, that I will have ample vengeance for this indignity. I will immediately

fet