HARDCASTLE. Who gone?

MRS. HARDCASTLE. My dutiful niece and her gentleman, Mr. Hastings, from town-he who came down with our modest visitor, here.

SIR CHARLES. Who, my honest George Hastings? As worthy a fellow as lives, and the girl could not have made a more prudent choice.

HARDCASTLE. Then, by the hand of my body, I'm proud of the connection.

MRS. HARDCASTLE. Well, if he has taken away the lady, he has not taken her fortune; that remains in this family to console us for her loss.

HARDCASTLE. Sure, Dorothy, you would not be so mercenary? MRS. HARDCASTLE. Ay, that's my affair, not yours. But you

know, if your son, when of age, refuses to marry his cousin, her whole fortune is then at her own disposal.

HARDCASTLE. Ay, but he's not of age, and she has not thought proper to wait for his refusal.

Enter Hastings and Miss Neville.

MRS. HARDCASTLE [aside]. What! returned so soon? I begin not to like it.

HASTINGS [to Hardcastle]. For my late attempt to fly off with your niece, let my present confusion be my punishment. We are now come back, to appeal from your justice to your humanity. By her father's consent, I first paid her my addresses, and our passions were first founded in duty. MISS NEVILLE. Since his death, I have been obliged to stoop to dissimulation to avoid oppression. In an hour of levity, I was ready even to give up my fortune to secure my choice. But I'm now recovered from the delusion, and hope from your tenderness what is denied me from a nearer connection.

MRS. HARDCASTLE. Pshaw, pshaw! this is all but the whining end of a modern novel.

HARDCASTLE. Be it what it will, I'm glad they're come back to reclaim their due. Come hither, Tony, boy. Do you refuse this lady's hand whom I now offer you?

TONY. What signifies my refusing? You know I can't refuse her till I'm of age, father.

HARDCASTLE. While I thought concealing your age, boy, was

likely to conduce to your improvement, I concurred with your mother's desire to keep it secret. But since I find she turns it to a wrong use, I must now declare, you have been of age these three months.

TONY. Of age! Am I of age, father?

HARDCASTLE. Above three months.

TONY. Then you'll see the first use I'll make of my liberty. [Taking Miss Neville's hand.] Witness all men by these. presents, that I, Anthony Lumpkin, Esquire, of BLANK place, refuse you, Constantia Neville, spinster, of no place at all, for my true and lawful wife. So Constance Neville may marry whom she pleases, and Tony Lumpkin is his own man again!

SIR CHARLES. O brave 'Squire!

HASTINGS. My worthy friend!

MRS. HARDCASTLE. My undutiful offspring!

MARLOW. Joy, my dear George, I give you joy, sincerely. And could I prevail upon my little tyrant here to be less arbitrary, I should be the happiest man alive, if you would return me the favor. HASTINGS [to Miss Hardcastle]. Come, madam, you are now driven to the very last scene of all your contrivances. I know you like him, I'm sure he loves you, and you must and shall have him. HARDCASTLE [joining their hands]. And I say so, too. And, Mr. Marlow, if she makes as good a wife as she has a daughter, I don't believe you'll ever repent your bargain. So now to supper, to-morrow we shall gather all the poor of the parish about us, and the Mistakes of the Night shall be crowned with a merry morning. So, boy, take her; and as you have been mistaken in the mistress, my wish is, that you may never be mistaken in the wife.

EPILOGUE

By Dr. Goldsmith

West, having stooped to conquer with success
And gained a husband without aid from iress,
Still as a Barmaid, I could wish it too.
As I have conquered him, to conquer you:
And let me say, for all your resolution,
That pretty Barmaids have done execution.
Our life is all a play, composed to please.
“We have our exits and our entrances."
The first act shows the simple country maid,
Harmless and young, of everything afraid:
Blushes when hired, and with unmeaning action.
I hopes as how to give you satisfaction.
Her second act displays a livelier scene-
Th' unblushing Barmaid of a country inn.
Who whisks about the house, at market caters,
Talks loud, coquets the guests, and scolds the waiters
Next the scene shifts to town, and there she soars,
The chop-house toast of ogling connoisseurs.
On 'Squires and Cits she there displays her arts,
And on the gridiron broils her lovers' hearts-
And as she smiles, her triumphs to complete,
Even Common Councilmen forget to eat.
The fourth act shows her wedded to the 'Squire,
And madam now begins to hold it higher;
Pretends to taste, at Operas cries caro,
And quits her Nancy Dawson for Che Faro.
Dotes upon dancing, and in all her pride
Swims round the room, the Heinel of Cheapside:
Ogles and leers with artificial skill,

Till, having lost in age the power to kill,
She sits all night at cards, and ogles at spadille.
Such, through our lives, the eventful history-
The fifth and last act still remains for me.
The Barmaid now for your protection prays
Turns female Barrister, and pleads for Bayes.

EPILOGUE

By J. Cradock, Esq.

WELL-now all's ended-and my comrades gone,
Pray what becomes of mother's nonly son?
A hopeful blade!-in town I'll fix my station,
And try to make a bluster in the nation.
As for my cousin Neville, I renounce her,
Off-in a crack-I'll carry big Bet Bouncer.
Why should not I in the great world appear?
I soon shall have a thousand pounds a year;
No matter what a man may here inherit,

In London-'gad, they've some regard for spirit.
I see the horses prancing up the streets,
'And big Bet Bouncer bobs to all she meets;
Then hoikes to jiggs and pastimes ev'ry night-
Not to the plays-they say it a'n't polite,
To Sadler's-Wells perhaps, or Operas go,
'And once by chance, to the roratorio.
Thus here and there, forever up and down,
We'll set the fashions too, to half the town;
'And then at auctions-money ne'er regard,
Buy pictures like the great, ten pounds a yard:
Zounds, we shall make these London gentry say,
We know what's d-d genteel, as well as they.*

To be spoken in the character of Tony Lumpkin.