Enter Glib, Sir Toby, Lady and Miss Fuz, Patent, &c.
Glib. What, we have lost Sir Macaroni! no great matter, for he was half asleep all the time he was here --very little better than a caput mortuum--Now, Ladies, and Gentlemen, of the jury, take your places. --Hiss and clap, condemn or applaud me as your taste directs you, and Apollo and the Nine send me a good deliverance.
Lady Fuz. We'll go into the front boxes.--What is the matter with you, Fanny?--You had rather be at your inconstant moon than hear Mr. Glib's wit.
Miss Fuz. I never was happier in all my life, Mama. [Sighs. What will become of me? [Aside.
Sir Tob. I shall be very critical, Mr. Author.
Lady Fuz. Pray are we to have a prologue, Mr. Glib? We positively must have a prologue.
Glib. Most certainly--entre nous--I have desired the Manager to write me one--which has so flattered him, that I shall be able to do anything with him-- [Aside to Lady Fuz.] I know 'em all from the Patentees, down to the waiting fellows in green coats--
Sir Tob. You are very happy in your acquaintance, Sir.