_Nev._ Vapid! I rejoice to see you,--'tis a long time since we met; give me leave to introduce you to a particular friend of mine--Mr Ennui--Mr Vapid.
_Ennui._ I've an idea--you do me honour--Mr Vapid, I shall be proud to be better acquainted with you--in fact--any thing of consequence stirring in the fashionable or political world?
_Vapid._ Some whispers about a new pantomime, sir,--nothing else.
_Nev._ And I'm afraid, in the present scarcity of good writers, we have little else to expect.--Pray, Vapid, how is the present dearth of genius to be accounted for; particularly dramatic genius?
_Vapid._ Why, as to dramatic genius, sir, the fact is this--to give a true picture of life, a man should enter into all its scenes,--should follow nature, sir--but modern authors plunder from one another--the mere shades of shadows.--Now, sir, for my part, I dive into the world--I search the heart of man;--'tis true I'm called a rake--but, upon my soul, I only game, drink, and intrigue, that I may be better able to dramatize each particular scene.
_Nev._ A good excuse for profligacy.--But tell me, Vapid, have you got any new characters since you came to Bath?
_Vapid._ 'Faith, only two--and those not very new either.
_Ennui._ In fact--may we ask what they are?
_Vapid._ Then I'll tell you:--The first is a charitable divine, who, in the weighty consideration how he shall best lavish his generosity, never bestows it at all:--and the other is a cautious apothecary, who, in determining which of two medicines is best for his patient, lets him die for want of assistance.--You understand me, I think, this last will do something, eh?
_Ennui._ I've an idea--the apothecary would cut a good figure in a comedy.
_Vapid._ A comedy! pshaw! I mean him for a tragedy.
_Ennui._ In fact--I don't comprehend, nor, possibly, the town.
_Vapid._ I know it--that's the very thing--hark ye, I've found out a secret--what every body understands, nobody approves; and people always applaud most where they least comprehend.--There is a refinement, sir, in appearing to understand things incomprehensible--else whence arises the pleasure at an opera, a private play, or a speech in parliament? why, 'tis the mystery in all these things--'tis the desire to find out what nobody else can--to be thought wiser than others--therefore--you take me--the apothecary is the hero of my tragedy.