' BOSWELL. 'It is easy for you, Mr. Garrick, to talk to an
authour as you talked to Elphinston; you, who have been so long the
manager of a theatre, rejecting the plays of poor authours. You are
an old Judge, who have often pronounced sentence of death. You are a
practiced surgeon, who have often amputated limbs; and though this may
have been for the good of your patients, they cannot like you. Those
who have undergone a dreadful operation, are not very fond of seeing
the operator again.' GARRICK. 'Yes, I know enough of that. There was
a reverend gentleman, (Mr. Hawkins,) who wrote a tragedy, the SIEGE
of something, which I refused.' HARRIS. 'So, the siege was raised.'
JOHNSON. 'Ay, he came to me and complained; and told me, that Garrick
said his play was wrong in the CONCOCTION. Now, what is the concoction
of a play?' (Here Garrick started, and twisted himself, and seemed
sorely vexed; for Johnson told me, he believed the story was true.)
GARRICK. 'I--I--I--said FIRST concoction.
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