[Kneels.

Sneer. A very orthodox quintetto!

Puff. Vastly well, gentlemen!—Is that well managed or not? Have you such a prayer as that on the stage?

Sneer. Not exactly.

Leic. [To Puff.] But, sir, you haven’t settled how we are to get off here.

Puff. You could not go off kneeling, could you?

Sir Walt. [To Puff.] O no, sir; impossible!

Puff. It would have a good effect, i’faith, if you could exeunt praying!—Yes, and would vary the established mode of springing off with a glance at the pit.

Sneer. Oh, never mind, so as you get them off!—I’ll answer for it, the audience won’t care how.

Puff. Well, then, repeat the last line standing, and go off the old way.

[Exeunt.”

Dang. Bravo! a fine exit.

Sneer. Well, really, Mr. Puff—

Puff. Stay a moment!

“The Sentinels get up.

[Exeunt.”

Dang. Hey!—why, I thought those fellows had been asleep?

Puff. Only a pretence; there’s the art of it: they were spies of Lord Burleigh’s.

Sneer. But isn’t it odd they never were taken notice of, not even by the commander-in-chief?

Puff. O Lud, sir! if people, who want to listen or overhear, were not always connived at in a tragedy, there would be no carrying on any plot in the world.

Dang. That’s certain!

Puff. But take care, my dear Dangle! the morning-gun is going to fire.

[Cannon fires.

Dang. Well, that will have a fine effect!

Puff. I think so, and helps to realize the scene.—[Cannon twice.] What the plague! three morning guns! there never is but one!— Ay, this is always the way at the theatre: give these fellows a good thing, and they never know when to have done with it.—You have no more cannon to fire?