DANGLE. But Puff is coming.—Signor and little signoras obligatissimo!—Sposa Signora Danglena—Mrs. Dangle, shall I beg you to offer them some refreshments, and take their address in the next room. [_Exit_ MRS. DANGLE _with_ SIGNOR PASTICCIO, SIGNORE PASTICCIO, MUSICIANS, _and_ INTERPRETER, _ceremoniously._] _Re-enter_ SERVANT. SERVANT. Mr. Puff, sir. [_Exit_.] _Enter_ PUFF. DANGLE. My dear Puff! PUFF. My dear Dangle, how is it with you? DANGLE. Mr. Sneer, give me leave to introduce Mr. Puff to you. PUFF. Mr. Sneer is this?—Sir, he is a gentleman whom I have long panted for the honour of knowing—a gentleman whose critical talents and transcendent judgment— SNEER. Dear Sir— DANGLE. Nay, don’t be modest, Sneer; my friend Puff only talks to you in the style of his profession. SNEER. His profession. PUFF. Yes, sir; I make no secret of the trade I follow: among friends and brother authors, Dangle knows I love to be frank on the subject, and to advertise myself _viva voce_.—I am, sir, a practitioner in panegyric, or, to speak more plainly, a professor of the art of puffing, at your service—or anybody else’s. SNEER. Sir, you are very obliging!—I believe, Mr. Puff, I have often admired your talents in the daily prints. PUFF. Yes, sir, I flatter myself I do as much business in that way as any six of the fraternity in town.—Devilish hard work all the summer, friend Dangle,—never worked harder! But, hark’ee,—the winter managers were a little sore, I believe. DANGLE. No; I believe they took it all in good part. PUFF. Ay! then that must have been affectation in them: for, egad, there were some of the attacks which there was no laughing at! SNEER. Ay, the humorous ones.—But I should think, Mr. Puff, that authors would in general be able to do this sort of work for themselves. PUFF. Why, yes—but in a clumsy way. Besides, we look on that as an encroachment, and so take the opposite side. I dare say, now, you conceive half the very civil paragraphs and advertisements you see to be written by the parties concerned, or their friends? No such thing: nine out of ten manufactured by me in the way of business. SNEER. Indeed!