“Ah, then you will see how Mr. Garrick could enter upon the scene, beginning to play bowls with Horatio, using skulls for the game; this goes on for some time, while they quarrel on the score of the score. They fling their skulls at one another, and then they take to fencing with two thigh bones which they pick up. Hamlet runs Horatio through with his bone, and he falls atop of the first grave-digger, who has been watching the fight, and in pantomime--much is done by pantomime nowadays--laying odds on Hamlet. Both topple over into the grave, and Hamlet stands on the brink, convulsed with laughter. This, you observe, gives extra point to Hamlet's enquiry, 'Whose grave is that, sirrah?' and certainly extraordinary point to the man's reply, 'Mine, sir.' Has it ever occurred to you to act the scene after that fashion?” “Never, madam--never, I swear,” cried Mr. Bates heartily. “Ah, there you see is the difference between Mr. Garrick and you,” said Kitty. “Do you bring on Hamlet's Irish servant, Mr. Bates?” “Hamlet's Irish servant?” “Is it possible that you have not yet followed the new reading in the scene where Hamlet comes upon the king praying?” “I know the scene,” cried Mr. Bates, throwing himself into an attitude as he began: “Oh, my offense is rank; it smells to heaven!” “That is it,” cried Kitty, interrupting him. “Well, then Hamlet appears with his Irish servant.” “'Tis the first I've heard of him.” “Let it not be the last.'T is a new reading. Hamlet enters, sees the king, and then turns to his Irish servant saying, 'Now might I do it, Pat'--the man's name is Patrick, you perceive?” “Madam, a more ridiculous innovation I protest I never heard of,” said Mr. Bates. “By my faith, sir,'t is not more ridiculous than some stage innovations that I could name,” said Kitty. “I could understand Kitty Clive introducing such a point into one of the farces in which I hear she is a merry baggage, but--” “You have never seen Kitty Clive then?” “Never, but I hear she is a romp. Are you an admirer of hers, madam?” “Sir, she has no more devoted admirer than myself,” said Kitty, looking at the man straight in the face. “Is she not a romp?” “Oh, surely, a sad, sad romp. She has by her romping, saved many a play from being damned.” “She is so great a favorite with playgoers, I doubt her ability,” said Mr. Bates. “I doubt if she could move me. What is the nature of her merriment?”