But we were all a little too hard on Triplet
here; and, if he will accept my apology--"
"Why, sir," said Triplet, half trembling, but driven on by looks from
Mrs. Woffington, "'Cibber's Apology' is found to be a trifle wearisome."
"Confound his impertinence!" cried the astounded laureate. "Come along,
Jemmy."
"Oh, sir," said Quin, good-humoredly, "we must give a joke and take a
joke. And when he paints my portrait--which he shall do--"
"The bear from Hockley Hole shall sit for the head!"
"Curse his impudence!" roared Quin. "I'm at your service, Mr. Cibber,"
added he, in huge dudgeon.
Away went the two old boys.
"Mighty well!" said waspish Mrs. Clive. "I did intend you should have
painted Mrs. Clive. But after this impertinence--"
"You will continue to do it yourself, ma'am!"
This was Triplet's hour of triumph. His exultation was undignified, and
such as is said to precede a fall. He inquired gravely of Mrs.
Woffington, whether he had or had not shown a spirit. Whether he had or
had not fired into each a parting shot, as they sheered off. To repair
which, it might be advisable for them to put into friendly ports.
"Tremendous!" was the reply. "And when Snarl and Soaper sit on your next
play, they won't forget the lesson you have given them."
"I'll be sworn they won't!" chuckled Triplet. But, reconsidering her
words, he looked blank, and muttered: "Then perhaps it would have been
more prudent to let them alone!"
"Incalculably more prudent!" was the reply.
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