"This will never do," said Tom Bertram at last. "We are
wasting time most abominably. Something must be fixed on.
No matter what, so that something is chosen. We must not be
so nice. A few characters too many must not frighten us.
We must _double_ them. We must descend a little.
If a part is insignificant, the greater our credit in making
anything of it. From this moment I make no difficulties.
I take any part you chuse to give me, so as it be comic.
Let it but be comic, I condition for nothing more."

For about the fifth time he then proposed the Heir at Law,
doubting only whether to prefer Lord Duberley or Dr. Pangloss
for himself; and very earnestly, but very unsuccessfully,
trying to persuade the others that there were some fine
tragic parts in the rest of the dramatis personae.

The pause which followed this fruitless effort
was ended by the same speaker, who, taking up one
of the many volumes of plays that lay on the table,
and turning it over, suddenly exclaimed--"Lovers' Vows!
And why should not Lovers' Vows do for _us_ as well
as for the Ravenshaws? How came it never to be thought
of before? It strikes me as if it would do exactly.
What say you all? Here are two capital tragic parts for
Yates and Crawford, and here is the rhyming Butler for me,
if nobody else wants it; a trifling part, but the sort
of thing I should not dislike, and, as I said before,
I am determined to take anything and do my best.
And as for the rest, they may be filled up by anybody.