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Show Love and a Bottle. 33 Enter Bullfinch. Bull, Mr. Lyrick, what do you mean by all this ? Here J you have lodg'd two Years in my Houfe, promifed me Eigh-teen- pence a Week for your Lodging, and I have ne'er re-ceiv'd eighteen Farthings, not the Value of that, Mi. Lyrick (Snaps with her Fingers.) you always put me off with telling me of your Play, your Play.-Sir, you fhall play no more with me, I'm in earneft. Lyr. This living on Love is the deareft Lodging - a Man's • eternally dunn'd, tho' perhaps he have lefs of one ready Coin than t'other.-There's more Trouble in a Play than you imagine, Madam. Bull. There's more Trouble with a Lodger than you think, Mr. Lyrick. Lyr. Firft, There's the Decorum of Time. Bull. Which you never obferve s for you keep the worft Hours of any Lodger in Town. Lyr. Then there's the Exaclnefs of Characters. Bull. And you have the moft fcandalous one I ever heard. Lyr. Then there's laying the Drama. Bull. Then vou foul m y Napkins and Towels. Lyr. Then there are Preparations of Incidents, working the Paffions, Beauty of Expreflion, Clofenefs of Plot, Juft-nefs of Place, Turn of Language, opening the Cataftrophe.- Bull. Then you wear out m y Sheets, burn my Fire and Candle, dirty my Houfe, eat my Meat, deftroy m y Drink, wear out m y Furniture 1 have lent you Money out of m y Pocket. Lyr. W a s ever poor Rogue fo ridden ? If ever the Mufes had aHorfe, I a m he. Faith, Madam, poor Pegafm is Jaded. Bull. Come,come,Sir,he fhan'tflip his Neck out of the Collar for all that. Money I will have, and Money I muft have j Ut you're Play and you both be damnd. Lyr. Well,' Madam, m y Bookfeller is to bring me fome twenty Guineas for a few Sheets of mine prefently, which I hope will free m e from your Sheets. Bull. M y Sheets, Mr. Lyrick ! Pray what dye mean? 111 allure you, Sir, m y Sheets are finer than any of your Mules fpinning. Marry come up. Lyr. Faith you have fpun m e fo fine, that you have al-mnfi crack'd m y Thread of Life, as may appear by m y Spm-dle- fhanks. . , ,., Bull. W h y fure-Where was your Thalia, and your Mel-pomene, when the Taylor wou'd have ftnppd you oi ywur |
