When he has absorbed all the moisture his victims are able to supply, he may be seen walking about in moody solitude in the parks, where he sponges upon the ducks, and owes for the use of the chairs.  In this dry and destitute condition, behold the sponge of the Covent-Garden Comedy—­Captain Tarradiddle.  He is in St. James’ Park; for, possessing imaginary rather than substantial claims to military rank, he flits about the Horse-Guards to keep up his character.  A person is already upon the stage, for whom you instinctively shudder—­you perceive, at once, that he is “in” for dinner, wine, theatre, and supper—­you pity him; you see the sponge, speciously, but surely, fasten himself upon his victim like a vampire. Mr. Pye Hilary, being a barrister and a man of the world, resigns himself, however, to his fate.  As to shaking off his leech, he knows that to be impossible; and he determines to make what use of him he can.  There is a fine opportunity, for Mr. Pye Hilary is in love, in despair, and in waiting:  he expects his mistress’s abigail; in negociating with whom, he conceives Tarradiddle will be a valuable assistant. Mrs. Tattle arrives.  Preliminaries having been duly settled, articles offensive and defensive are entered into, to carry out a plan by which the lover shall gain an interview with the mistress; and the treaty is ratified by a liberal donation, which the Captain makes to the maid out of his friend’s purse.  The servant is satisfied, and goes off in the utmost agitation, for Miss Mayley and her guardian are coming; and she dreads being caught in the fact of bribery. Mr. Hilary trembles; so does the young lady, when she appears; and the agitation of all parties is only put an end to by the fall of the act-drop.

If any class of her Majesty’s subjects are more miserable than another, it is that of gentlemen’s servants.  One of these oppressed persons is revealed to us in the next act.  Poor fellow! he has nothing to do but to sit in the hall, and nothing to amuse him but the newspaper.  But his misfortunes do not end here:  as if to add insult to injury, the family governess presumes to upbraid him, and actually insists upon his taking a letter to the post. Mr. Nibble declines performing so undignified a service, in the most footman-like terms; but unfortunately, as it generally happens, in families where there are pretty governesses and gallant sons, Miss de Vere has a protector in the Hon. Charles Norwold, who overhears her unreasonable demand, and with a degree of injustice enough to make the entire livery of London rave with indignation, inflicts upon his father’s especial livery, and Nibble’s illustrious person, a severe caning.  The consequence of this “strike” is, that Nibble gives warning, Lord and Lady Norwold are paralysed at this important resignation; for by it they discover that a secret coalition has taken place between their son and the governess—­they are man and wife!  Good heavens! the heir of all the Norwolds marry a teacher, who has nothing to recommend her but virtue, talent, and beauty!  Monstrous!—­“What will the world say?”