_Fitz-Growl._--My dear sir, you know nothing of effect; if you could only cover the stage with people, and then let them all down at once, it would be terrific! _Manager._--My dear sir, I don't want to cover my stage with people, and then let them down; I'd sooner hold my performers up than see them let down. _Fitz-Growl._--That's very fine talking; but you must get the money, and I can assure you mine are the only pieces to do it. _Manager._--Indeed, sir; then I'm too generous to my fellow-managers to think of monopolising the only author whose pieces will draw. (_Enter Servant._) _Servant._--A gentleman named Scowl is below. _Manager._--Oh! the gentleman I was to see respecting an engagement. Beg him to walk up. (_Exit Servant._) _Fitz-Growl._--Ah! he's an old friend of mine. He plays the devil in all my pieces. _Manager._--Plays the devil, does he? _Fitz-Growl._--My best friend, sir; he has made the character I allude to his own. _Manager._--It is to be hoped, for his sake, that the character you allude to will not return the compliment. (_Enter Scowl._) _Fitz-Growl._--Ah! my dear Scowl, how are you? _Scowl._--So, so; I swallowed a quantity of the smoke last night in your new piece. _Manager._--Did the audience swallow it too? _Scowl._--Sir? _Manager._--I beg your pardon, sir; I believe you wish to lead the business at my theatre? _Fitz-Growl._--He's the very man for it. _Manager._--What is your line, sir? _Scowl._--Why, I don't mind the heavy business; but I prefer the demons, or the singing scoundrels. _Manager._--But I don't think I shall do that sort of thing. _Scowl._--More fool you. If you want your theatre to pay, you must stick to the melodrama: the people are sure to come if you can only frighten them away. _Fitz-Growl._--Yes, I find it so with my pieces; they draw the same people over and over again, because they are forced to come several times before they can venture to sit them out. _Manager._--But I sha'n't aim at that. _Scowl._--More fool you. But if I can be of any service to you in the combat way,--I can fight with a sword in each hand, a dagger in my mouth, and a bayonet in my eye. What do you think of that? _Manager._--Astonishing! _Scowl._--My friend Mr. Fitz-Growl has written me an excellent new part. _Manager._--What's that about? _Fitz-Growl._--Oh! nothing particular. I write down a few horrors, make a list of the murders, and my friend Scowl knows what to be up to. _Manager._--Really, gentlemen, I don't see that we can come to terms. _Fitz-Growl._--Don't see!--what! you don't want my pieces? _Scowl._--Nor my acting? _Manager._--Neither, gentlemen, I thank you. _Fitz-Growl._--Then I'll go home and write a melodrama, called the "_Doomed Manager_," and you shall be the hero. _Manager._--Thank you. _Scowl._--And I'll play the part. _Manager._--What! you represent me? That's too cruel. But I must wish you good morning. _Scowl._--Farewell! remember me!