_Wit_. This is the most finished gentleman I ever saw; and hath
not, I dare swear, his equal.

_Luck_. If he has, here he comes.




SCENE VII.--LUCKLESS, WITMORE, BOOKWEIGHT.


_Luck_. Mr Bookweight, your very humble servant.

_Book_. I was told, sir, that you had particular business with
me.

_Luck_. Yes, Mr Bookweight; I have something to put into your
hands. I have a play for you, Mr Bookweight.

_Book_. Is it accepted, sir?

_Luck_. Not yet.

_Book_. Oh, sir! when it is, it will be then time enough to talk
about it. A play, like a bill, is of no value till it is accepted; nor
indeed when it is, very often. Besides, sir, our playhouses are grown
so plenty, and our actors so scarce, that really plays are become very
bad commodities. But pray, sir, do you offer it to the players or the
patentees?