_Spoken by Mr. Liston and Mr. Emery in character_
_Gosling._ False world----
_Sampson._ You're bit, Sir.
_Gosling_. Boor! what's that to you?
With Love's soft sorrows what hast thou to do?
'Tis _here_ for consolation I must look.
(_Takes out his pocket book_).
_Sampson_. Nay, Sir, don't put us down in your black book.
_Gosling_. All Helicon is here.
_Sampson_. All Hell.
_Gosling_. You Clod!
Did'st never hear of the Pierian God,
And the Nine Virgins on the Sacred Hill?
_Sampson_. Nine Virgins!--Sure!
_Gosling_. I have them all at will.
_Sampson_. If Miss fight shy, then--
_Gosling_. And my suit decline.
_Sampson_. You'll make a dash at them.
_Gosling_. I'll tip all nine.
_Sampson_. What, wed 'em, Sir?
_Gosling_. O, no--that thought I banish.
I woo--not wed; they never bring the Spanish.
Their favours I pursue, and court the bays.
_Sampson_. Mayhap, you're one of them that write the plays?
_Gosling_. Bumpkin!
_Sampson_. I'm told the public's well-nigh crammed
With such like stuff.
_Gosling_. The public may be damned.
_Sampson_. They ha'nt damned you? (_inquisitively_).
_Gosling_. This fellow's wond'rous shrewd!
I'd tell him if I thought he'd not be rude.
Once in my greener years, I wrote a piece.
_Sampson_. Aye, so did I--at school like--
_Gosling_. Booby, cease!
I mean a Play.
_Sampson_. Oh!
_Gosling_. And to crown my joys,
'Twas acted--
_Sampson_. Well, and how--
_Gosling_. It made a noise,
A kind of mingled--(_as if musing_).
_Sampson_. Aye, describe it, try.
_Gosling_. Like--Were you ever in the pillory?
_Sampson_. No, Sir, I thank ye, no such kind of game.
_Gosling_. Bate but the eggs, and it was much the same.
Shouts, clamours, laughs, and a peculiar sound,
'Like, like--
_Sampson_. Like geese, I warrant, in a pound.
I like this mainly!
_Gosling_. Some began to cough,
Some cried--
_Sampson_. Go on--
_Gosling_. A few--and some--"Go off!"
I can't suppress it. Gods! I hear it now;
It was in fact a most confounded row.
Dire was the din, as when some storm confounds
Earth, sea, and sky, with all terrific sounds.
Not hungry lions sent forth notes more strange,
Not bulls and bears, that have been hoaxed on 'Change.
_Sampson_. Exeter 'Change you mean--I've seen they bears.
_Gosling_. The beasts I mean are far less tame than theirs.
Change Alley Bruins, nattier though their dress,
Might at Polito's study politesse.
Brief let me be. My gentle Sampson, pray,
Fight Larry Whack, but never write a play.
_Sampson_. I won't, Sir: and these christian souls petition,
To spare all wretched folks in such condition.
