one of the actors, I don't know—I’ve not a free hand in the matter; but being a respectable actor, I stand by him to the last and so, obeying without dispute the will of the author, I shout mockingly: Let down the curtain; the farce is over. (The curtains fall behind him.) Ladies and gentlemen, I forgot to tell you that neither your applause nor your hissing of the piece is likely to be taken seriously by the author, who preaches that nothing in life is worth taking seriously. And I suggest that if truth is on his side, then you should hardly take his play seriously, all the more as Harlequin has probably risen from his deathbed already, and, perhaps, is already tidying himself in anticipation of a call, because, say what you like, but the actors can’t be responsible for the free-thinking of the author. (Exit.)
(Curtain)
