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run, to the house. Was ever author fo little anxious for the fate of his piece?

My piece!

BEVER.

JULIET.

Fly, and

Sir Thomas! I know by his walk. pray all the way for the fall of your play. And, do you hear, if you find the audience too indulgent, inclined to be milky, rather than fail, fqueeze in a little acid yourself. Oh, Mr. Bever, at your return let me fee you, before you go to my uncle; that is, if you have the good luck to be damn'd.

BEVER.

You need not doubt that.

Enter Sir Thomas Lofty.

Sir THOMAS.

So, Juliet; was not that Mr. Bever?

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Exit.

He is rather tardy; by this time his caufe is come on. And how is the young gentleman affected? for this is a trying occafion.

JULIET.

He seems pretty certain, Sir.

Sir THOMAS.

Indeed, I think he has very little reason to fear : I confefs I admire the piece; and feel as much for it's fate as if the work was my own.

JULIET.

That I moft fincerely believe. I wonder, Sir, you did not choose to be present.

Sir THOMAS.

Better not. My affections are ftrong, Juliet, and my nerves but tenderly ftrung; however, intelligent people are planted, who will bring me every act a faithful account of the process.

JULIET.

JULIET.

That will answer your purpose as well.

Str THOMAS.

Indeed, I am paffionately fond of the arts, and therefore can't help-did not fomebody knock? no. My good girl, will you ftep, and take care that when any body comes the fervants may not be out of the way. [Exit Juliet.] Five and thirty minutes past fix; by this time the first act must be over: John will be presently here. I think it can't fail; yet there is fo much whim and caprice in the public opinion, that-This young man is unknown; they'll give him no credit. I had better have own'd it myself: Reputation goes a great way in these matters: people are afraid to find fault; they are cautious in cenfuring the works of a man who hufh! that's he: no; 'tis only the fhutters. After all, I think I have chose the best way for, if it fucceeds to the degree I expect, it will be easy to circulate the real name of the author; if it falls, I am concealed, my fame fuffers no-There he is. [Loud knocking.] I can't conceive what kept him fo long. [Enter John.] So, John; well; and-but you have been a monstrous while. JOHN.

Sir, I was wedged fo clofe in the pit that I could fcarcely get out.

Sir THOMAS.

The house was full then?

As an egg, Sir.

JOHN.

Sir THOMAS.

That's right. Well John, and did matters go fwimmingly? hey?

JOHN.

Exceedingly well, Sir.

Sir THOMAS.

Exceedingly well. I don't doubt it. What, vaft clapping and roars of applaufe, I suppose.

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JOHN.

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Very well, Sir! You are damn'd coftive, I think. But did not the pit and boxes thunder again? JOHN.

I can't fay there was over much thunder.

Sir THOMAS.

No! Oh, attentive, I reckon. Ay, attention! that is the true, folid, fubftantial applause. All elfe may be purchafed; hands move as they are bid: but when the audience is hushed still, afraid of lofing a word, then

JOHN.

Yes, they were very quiet indeed, Sir.
Sir THOMAS.

I like them the better, John; a ftrong mark of their great fenfibility. Did you fee Robin?

JOHN.

Yes, Sir; he'll be here in a trice; I left him lift'ning at the back of the boxes, and charged him to make all the hafte home that he could.

Sir THOMAS.

That's right, John; very well; your account pleases me much, honeft John. [ Exit John.] No, I did not expect the firft act would produce any prodigious effect. And, after all, the first act is but a mere introduction; juft opens the business, the plot, and gives a little infight into the cha racters: fo that if you but engage and intereft the house, it is as much as the beft writer can flatt--[knocking without] Gadfo! what, Robin already! why the fellow has the feet of a Mercury. [Enter Robin.] Well, Robin, and what news do you bring?

Sir, I, I, I,

ROBIN.

Sir THOMAS.

Stop, Robin, and recover your breath. Now, Robin.

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I don't know: belike at the words the play-folk were talking.

Sir THOMAS.

At the players! how can that be? Oh, now I begin to conceive. Poor fellow, he knows but little of plays. What, Robin, I fuppofe, hallow ing, and clapping, and knocking of sticks?

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Impoffible! Oh, most likely fome drunken, disorderly fellows, that were disturbing the house and interrupting the play; too common a cafe; the people were right: they deferv'd a rebuke. Did not you hear them cry, Out, out, out?

ROBIN.

Noa; that was not the cry; 'twas Off, off, off! Sir THOMAS.

That was a whimsical noife. Zounds! that must be the players. Did you obferve nothing else?

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ROBIN.

Belike the quarrel first began between the gentry and a black-a-moor man.

Sir THOMAS.

With Friday! The public tafte is debauched; honeft nature is too plain and fimple for their vitiated palates! [Enter Juliet.] Juliet, Robin brings me the strangeft account; fome little dif turbance; but I fuppofe it was foon fettled again. Oh, but here comes Mr. Staytape, my taylor; he is a rational being; we fhall be able to make fomething of him. [Enter Staytape.] So, Staytape; what, is the third act over already?

STAYTAPE.

Over, Sir! no; nor never will be.

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STAYTAPE.

Why, Sir, the poet has made a mistake in measuring the taste of the town; the goods, it feems, did not fit; fo they returned them upon the gentleman's hands.

Sir THOMAS.

Rot your affectation and quaintnefs, you puppy! speak plain.

STAYTAPE.

Why, then, Sir, Robinson Crufoe is dead.

Dead!

Sir THOMAS.

STAYTAPE.

Ay; and, what is worfe, will never rife any more. You will foon have all the particulars; for there were four or five of your friends clofe at my heels. Sir THOMAS.

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