we'll put off the rest of his education, like Dr Drowsy's sermons, to a fitter opportunity.

Enter Diggory.

Diggory. Where's the Squire? I have got a letter for your worship.

Tony. Give it to my mamma. She reads all my letters first.

Diggory. I had orders to deliver it into your own hands. Tony. Who does it come from?

Diggory. Your worship mun ask that o' the letter itself. Tony. I could wish to know though, (turning the letter and gazing on it.)

Miss Neville. (Aside.) Undone! undone! A letter to him from Hastings: I know the hand. If my aunt sees it, we are ruined for ever. I'll keep her employed a little, if I can. (To Mrs Hardcastle.) But I have not told you, madam, of my cousin's smart answer just now to Mr Marlow. We so laughed You must know, madam-This way a little, for he must not hear us. (They confer.)

Tony. (Still gazing.) A damned cramp piece of penmanship, as ever I saw in my life. I can read your print hand very well; but here there are such handles, and shanks, and dashes, that one can scarce tell the head from the tail. "To Anthony Lumpkin, Esquire." It's very odd, I can read the outside of my letters, where my own name is, well enough. But when I come to open it, it's all - buzz. That's hard

- very hard; for the inside of the letter is always the cream of the correspondence.

Mrs Hardcastle. Ha! ha! ha! Very well, very well. And so my son was too hard for the philosopher?

Miss Neville. Yes, madam; but you must hear the rest, madam. A little more this way, or he may hear us. You'll hear how he puzzled him again.

Mrs Hardcastle. He seems strangely puzzled now himself, methinks.

Tony. (Still gazing.) A damned up and down hand, as if it was disguised in liquor. (Reading.) "Dear sir,"- Ay, that's that. Then there's an M, and a T, and an S, but whether the next be an izzard or an R, confound me, I cannot tell!

Mrs Hardcastle. What's that, my dear; can I give you any assistance?

Miss Neville. Pray, aunt, let me read it. Nobody reads a

cramp hand better than I. (Twitching the letter from him.) Do you know who it is from?

Tony. Can't tell, except from Dick Ginger the feeder.

Miss Neville. Ay, so it is, (pretending to read.) Dear Squire, hoping that you're in health, as I am at this present. The gentlemen of the Shake Bag Club has cut the gentlemen of the Goose Green quite out of feather. The odds

um

odd battle-um-long fighting- um-here, here, it's all about cocks and fighting; it's of no consequence-here, put it up, put it up. (Thrusting the crumpled letter upon him.)

Tony. But I tell you, miss, it's of all the consequence in the world. I would not lose the rest of it for a guinea. Here, mother, do you make it out. Of no consequence!

[Giving Mrs Hardcastle the letter. Mrs Hardcastle. How's this! (reads,) "Dear Squire, I'm now waiting for Miss Neville, with a postchaise and pair, at the bottom of the garden, but I find my horses yet unable to perform the journey. I expect you'll assist us with a pair of fresh horses, as you promised. Despatch is necessary, as the hag"-ay, the hag- "your mother, will otherwise suspect us. Yours, Hastings." Grant me patience: I shall run distracted! My rage chokes me!

Miss Neville. I hope, madam, you'll suspend your resentment for a few moments, and not impute to me any impertinence, or sinister design, that belongs to another.

As

Mrs Hardcastle. (Curtsying very low.) Fine spoken madam; you are most miraculously polite and engaging, and quite the very pink of courtesy and circumspection, madam. (Changing her tone.) And you, you great ill-fashioned oaf, with scarce sense enough to keep your mouth shut,- - were you, too, joined against me? But I'll defeat all your plots in a moment. for you, madam, since you have got a pair of fresh horses ready, it would be cruel to disappoint them. So, if you please instead of running away with your spark, prepare, this very moment, to run off with me. Your old aunt Pedigree will keep you secure, I'll warrant me. You too, sir, may mount your horse, and guard us upon the way. Here, Thomas, Roger, Diggory! I'll shew you, that I wish you better than you do yourselves. [Exit.

Miss Neville. So now I'm completely ruined.
Tony. Ay, that's a sure thing.

Miss Neville. What better could be expected, from being connected with such a stupid fool, and after all the nods and signs I made him?

Tony. By the laws, miss, it was your own cleverness, and not my stupidity, that did your business! You were so nice and so busy with your Shake Bags and Goose Greens, that I thought you could never be making believe.

Enter Hastings.

Hastings. So, sir, I find by my servant, that you have shewn my letter, and betrayed us. Was this well done, young gentleman?

Tony. Here's another. Ask miss, there, who betrayed you. Ecod! it was her doing, not mine.

Enter Marlow.

Marlow. So, I have been finely used here among you. Rendered contemptible, driven into ill manners, despised, insulted, laughed at.

Tony. Here's another. We shall have all Bedlam broke loose presently.

Miss Neville. And there, sir, is the gentleman to whom we all owe every obligation.

Marlow. What can I say to him? a mere boy, an idiot, whose ignorance and age are a protection.

Hastings. A poor contemptible booby, that would but disgrace correction.

Miss Neville. Yet with cunning and malice enough to make himself merry with all our embarrassments.

Hastings. An insensible cub.

Marlow. Replete with tricks and mischief.

Tony. Baw! damme, but I'll fight you both, one after the other with baskets.

Marlow. As for him, he's below resentment. But your conduct, Mr Hastings, requires an explanation: You knew of my mistakes, yet would not undeceive me.

Hastings. Tortured as I am with my own disappointments, is this a time for explanations? It is not friendly, Mr Marlow. Marlow. But, sir

Miss Neville. Mr Marlow, we never kept on your mistake, till it was too late to undeceive you. Be pacified.

Enter Servant.

Servant. My mistress desires you'll get ready immediately, madain. The horses are putting to. Your hat and things are in the next room. We are to go thirty miles before morning. [Exit Servant.

Miss Nevil'e. Well, well, I'll come presently.

Marlow. (To Hastings.) Was it well done, sir, to assist in rendering me ridiculous?-To hang me out for the scorn of all my acquaintance? Depend upon it, sir, I shall expect an explanation.

Hastings. Was it well done, sir, if you're upon that subject, to deliver what I intrusted to yourself, to the care of another,

sir?

Miss Neville. Mr Hastings! Mr Marlow! Why will you increase my distress by this groundless dispute? I implore I intreat you.

Enter Scrvant.

Servant. Your cloak, madam. My mistress is impatient. [Exit Servant. Miss Neville. I come. Pray, be pacified. If I leave you thus, I shall die with apprehension.

Enter Servant.

Servant. Your fan, muff, and gloves, madam. The horses are waiting. [Exit Servant. Miss Neville. Oh, Mr Marlow, if you knew what a scene of constraint and ill-nature lies before me, I am sure it would convert your resentment into pity!

Marlow. I'm so distracted with a variety of passions, that I don't know what I do. Forgive me, madam. George, forgive me. You know my hasty temper, and should not

exasperate it.

Hastings. The torture of my situation is my only excuse. Miss Neville. Well, my dear Hastings, if you have that esteem for me that I think-that I am sure you have, your constancy for three years will but increase the happiness of our future connection.

If

Mrs Hardcastle. (Within.) Miss Neville! Constance, why Constance, I say!

Miss Neville. I'm coming! Well, constancy; remember, constancy is the word.

[Exit.

Hastings. My heart! how can I support this? To be so near happiness, and such happiness!

Marlow. (To Tony.) You see now, young gentleman, the effects of your folly. What might be amusement to you, is here disappointment, and even distress.

Tony. (From a reverie.) Ecod, I have hit it: it's here! Your hands. Yours, and yours, my poor Sulky. My boots there, ho! Meet me, two hours hence, at the bottom of the garden; and if you don't find Tony Lumpkin a more goodnatured fellow than you thought for, I'll give you leave to take my best horse, and Bet Bouncer into the bargain. Come along. My boots, ho! [Exeunt

ACT FIFTH.

Enter Hastings and Servant.

Hastings. You saw the old lady and Miss Neville drive off, you say?

Servant. Yes, your honour. They went off in a post-coach, and the young squire went on horseback. They're thirty miles off by this time.

Hastings. Then all my hopes are over!

Servant. Yes, sir. Old Sir Charles is arrived. He and the old gentleman of the house have been laughing at Mr Marlow's mistake this half hour. They are coming this way. [Exit. Hastings. Then I must not be seen. So now to my fruitless appointment at the bottom of the garden. This is about the time. [Exit.

Enter Sir Charles Marlow and Hardcastle.

Hardcastle. Ha! ha! ha! The peremptory tone in which he sent forth his sublime commands!

Sir Charles. And the reserve with which I suppose he treated all your advances.

Hardcastle. And yet he might have seen something in me above a common innkeeper, too.

Sir Charles. Yes, Dick, but he mistook you for an uncommon innkeeper; ha! ha! ha!

Hardcastle. Well, I'm in too good spirits to think of any