_Fr_. I know the sort of thing; and what about it?

_Luc_. I am afraid that before I have done you will find that I make
as sad work of it as they do,--jumbling things together pell-mell,
spoiling the whole point sometimes by inadequate expression; and you
will end by damning the play instead of the actor. I could put up with
my own share of the disgrace; but it would vex me indeed, that my
subject should be involved in my downfall; I cannot have _it_
discredited for my shortcomings. Remember, then: whatever the
imperfections in my speech, the author is not to be called to account;
he sits far aloof from the stage, and knows nothing of what is going
forward. The memory of the actor is all that you are invited to
criticize; I am neither more nor less than the 'Messenger' in a
tragedy. At each flaw in the argument, be this your first thought,
that the author probably said something quite different, and much more
to the point;--and then you may hiss me off if you will.

_Fr_. Bless me; here is quite a professional exordium! You are about
to add, I think, that 'your consultation with your client has been but
brief'; that you 'come into court imperfectly instructed'; that 'it
were to be desired that your client were here to plead his own cause;
as it is, you are reduced to such a meagre and inadequate statement of
the case, as memory will supply.' Am I right? Well then, spare
yourself the trouble, as far as I am concerned. Imagine all these
preliminaries settled. I stand prepared to applaud: but if you keep me
waiting, I shall harbour resentment all through the case, and hiss you
accordingly.

_Luc_. I should, indeed, have been glad to avail myself of the