WOFF. (_aside_). This man is acting gaiety. And have your pieces been successful? TRIP. Eminently so--in the closet; the managers have as yet excluded them from the stage. WOFF. Ah! now if those things were comedies, I would offer to act in one of them, and then the stage door would fly open at sight of the author. TRIP. I'll go home and write a comedy (_moves_). WOFF. On second thoughts, perhaps you had better leave the tragedies with me. TRIP. My dear madam!--and you will read them? WOFF. Ahem! I will make poor Rich read them. TRIP. But he has rejected them. WOFF. That is the first step--reading comes after, when it comes at all. TRIP. (_aside_). I must fly home and tell my wife. WOFF. (_aside_). In the mean time I can put five guineas into his pocket. Mr. Triplet, do you write congratulatory verses--odes--and that sort of thing? TRIP. Anything, madam, from an acrostic to an epic. WOFF. Good, then I have a commission for you; I dine to-day at Mr. Vane's, in Bloomsbury Square. We shall want some verses. Will you oblige us with a copy? TRIP. (_aside_). A guinea in my way, at least. Oh, madam, do but give me a subject. WOFF. Let's see--myself, if you can write on such a theme. TRIP. 'Tis the one I would have chosen out of all the heathen mythology; the praises of Venus and the Graces. I will set about it at once (_takes up portrait_). WOFF. (_sees picture_). But what have you there? not another tragedy? TRIP. (_blushing_). A poor thing, madam, a portrait--my own painting, from memory. WOFF. Oh! oh! I'm a judge of painted faces; let me see it. TRIP. Nay, madam! WOFF. I insist! (_She takes off the baize._) My own portrait, as I live! and a good likeness too, or my glass flatters me like the rest of them. And this you painted from memory? TRIP. Yes, madam; I have a free admission to every part of the theatre before the curtain. I have so enjoyed your acting, that I have carried your face home with me every night, forgive my presumption, and tried to fix in the studio the impression of the stage. WOFF. Do you know your portrait has merit? I will give you a sitting for the last touches. TRIP. Oh, madam! WOFF. And bring all the critics--there, no thanks or I'll stay away. Stay, I must have your address. TRIP. (_returning to her_). On the fly leaf of each work, madam, you will find the address of James Triplet, painter, actor, and dramatic author, and Mrs. Woffington's humble and devoted servant. (_Bows ridiculously low, moves away, but returns with an attempt at a jaunty manner._) Madam, you have inspired a son of Thespis with dreams of eloquence; you have tuned to a higher key a poet's lyre; you have tinged a painter's existence with brighter colours; and--and--(_gazes on her and tries in vain to speak_) God in heaven bless you, Mrs. Woffington! [_Exit L. hastily._ WOFF. So! I must look into this! [_Enter Sir Charles Pomander L._] POM. Ah, Mrs. Woffington, I have just parted with an adorer of yours.