Drat the woman," continued he, half ashamed of his emotion; "she makes us laugh, and makes us cry, just as she used." "What does he say, young woman ?" said the old lady, dryly, to Mrs.
Clive.
"He says you make us laugh, and make us cry, madam; and so you do me, I'm sure." "And that's Peg Woffington's notion of an actress! Better it, Cibber and Bracegirdle, if you can," said the other, rising up like lightning.
She then threw Colley Cibber a note, and walked coolly and rapidly out of the room, without looking once behind her.
The rest stood transfixed, looking at one another, and at the empty chair.

Then Cibber opened and read the note aloud.

It was from Mrs.
Bracegirdle: "Playing at tric-trac; so can't play the fool in your green-room to-night.

B." On this, a musical ringing laugh was heard from outside the door, where the pseudo Bracegirdle was washing the gray from her hair, and the wrinkles from her face--ah! I wish I could do it as easily!--and the little bit of sticking-plaster from her front tooth.
"Why, it is the Irish jade!" roared Cibber.
"Divil a less!" rang back a rich brogue; "and it's not the furst time we put the comether upon ye, England, my jewal!" One more mutual glance, and then the mortal cleverness of all this began to dawn on their minds; and they broke forth into clapping of hands, and gave this accomplished _mime_ three rounds of applause; Mr.Vane and Sir Charles Pomander leading with, "Bravo, Woffington!" Its effect on Mr.Vane may be imagined.

Who but she could have done this?
This was as if a painter should so paint a man as to deceive his species.