Mr.Pious drops a tear at the close of the introduction, the four bars of which have been transformed into eight bars by the great _virtuoso_.

During the tremulous, affected performance of "True Happiness," Mr.Pious rolls up his moistened eyes; and, at the end of the first verse, where the accompanist once more gives the reins to his fancy, he says, "I am speechless, I cannot find words to express my emotion!"_) DOMINIE (_aside to Emma_).

That you may call forged sentiment, the counterfeit of feeling.

You hear now how one ought _not_ to sing.

For an earnest, true musician, such a warmth in singing is only empty affectation, disgusting, sentimental rubbish, and hollow dissimulation.
You will, however, frequently meet with such amateur infelicities.
(_Mrs.Gold has finished singing all the verses of "True Happiness," and seems now to have almost entirely recovered.