my command; but not mere dulness. I would do this in the interest of public morals. I regard a dull author who has to depend upon his pen for his livelihood as an object of pity, not of execration. If I want to be revenged upon him, I take care to caution my friends that the house at which his piece is being played is to be avoided.
Cross-examined.—I do not in the least like your play. I entirely coincide with the general opinions which the other witnesses have expressed, though I do not agree with them in detail. For example, I think the scene between the Home Secretary and the wicked Member is very characteristic, and contains many capital hits at the maladministration of our home affairs; but I regard the scenes between the duke and duchess, and that between the two tradespeople as ridiculously untrue to nature. Personally, I regard you as a dull and tedious author. I did not hiss you, simply because I did not think that the offence of mere incompetency deserved so severe a punishment, and because hissing unnerves the actors, and prevents them from doing their best with the play under consideration. I seldom hiss, but when I do it is at the end of an Act. I am not aware that, owing to nervousness caused by sounds of disapprobation, much of the dialogue was accidentally omitted, and still more of it paraphrased. I am not aware that owing to imperfect rehearsals many of the "situations" missed fire. I am not aware that certain characters and scenes were omitted, and others re-written in opposition to your earnest entreaty. The piece is advertised as having been written by you, and I, of
