ACT THE SECOND.

SCENE, an old-fashioned House.

Enter HARDCASTLE, followed by three or four aukward fervants.

HARDCASTLE.

WELL, I hope you're perfect in the table ex

ercife I have been teaching you thefe three days. You all know your pofts and your places, and can fhew that you have been used to good company, without ever stirring from home.

Aye, aye.

OMNES.

HARDCASTLE.

When company comes, you are not to pop out and ftare, and then run in again, like frighted rabbits in

You, Diggory, whom I have taken from the barn, are to make a fhew at the fide-table; and you, Roger, whom I have advanced from the plough, are to

place

place yourself behind my chair. But you're not to ftand fo, with your hands in your pockets. Take your hands from your pockets, Roger; and from your head, you blockhead you. See how Diggory carries his hands. They're a little too ftiff, indeed, but that's no great matter.

DIGGORY.

Aye, mind how I hold them. I learned to hold my hands this way, when I was upon drill for the militia. And fo being upon drill

HARDCASTLE.

You must not be fo talkative, Diggory. You must be all attention to the guests. You must hear us talk, and not think of talking; you muft fee us drink, and not think of drinking; you muft fee us eat, and not think of eating.

DIGGORY.

By the laws, your worship, that's parfectly unpoffible. Whenever Diggory fees yeating going forward, ecod he's always withing for a mouthful himfelf.

HARDCASTLE.

Blockhead! Is not a belly-full in the kitchen as good as a belly-full in the parlour? Stay your ftomach with that reflection.

DIGGORY.

Ecod I thank your worship, I'll make a shift to ftay my ftomach with a flice of cold beef in the

pantry.

HARD

HARDCASTLE.

Diggory, you are too talkative. Then if I happen to fay a good thing, or tell a good ftory at table, you must not all burst out a-laughing, as if you made part of the company.

DIGGORY.

Then ecod your worship must not tell the ftory of ould grouse in the gun room: I can't help laughing at that he he! he!-for the foul of me. We have laughed at that thefe twenty years-ha! ha! ha!

HARDCASTLE.

Ha ha ha! The ftory is a good one. Well, honest Diggory, you may laugh at that- but still remember to be attentive. Suppose one of the company should call for a glafs of wine, how will you behave? A glafs of wine, Sir, if you pleafe, (To Diggory)-Eh, why don't you move?

DIGGORY.

Ecod, your worship, I never have courage till I fee the eatables and drinkables brought upo' the table, and then I'm as bauld as a lion.

HARDCASTLE.

What, will nobody move?

FIRST SERVANT.

I'm not to leave this place.

SECOND SERVANT.

I'm fure it's no place of mine.

THIRD SERVANT.

Nor mine, for fartain.

DIGGORY.

Wauns, and I'm fure it canna be mine.

HARDCASTLE.

You numbfkulls! and fo while, like your betters, you are quarrelling for places, the guests must be starved. O you dunces! I find I must begin all over again.- -But don't I hear a coach drive into the yard? To your pots, you blockheads. I'll go in the mean time and give my old friend's fon 'a hearty reception at the gate. [Exit Hardcastle.

DIGGORY.

By the elevens, my place is gone quite out of my head.

ROGER.

I know that my place is to be every where."

My pleace is to be no where at all; and fo ize go about my bufinefs. [Exeunt fervants, running about as if frighted, different ways.

Enter SERVANT with Candles, fhewing in MARLow and HASTINGS.

SERVANT.

Welcome, gentlemen, very welcome! This

way.

HAST

HASTINGS.

After the difappointments of the day, welcome once more, Charles, to the comforts of a clean room and a good fire. Upon my word, a very welllooking houfe; antique but creditable.

MARLOW.

The ufual fate of a large manfion. Having first ruined the mafter by good houfekeeping, it at laft comes to levy contributions as an inn.

HASTINGS.

As you say, we passengers are to be taxed to pay all these fineries. I have often feen a good fideboard, or a marble chimney-piece, though not actually put in the bill, inflame a reckoning confoundedly.

MARLOW.

Travellers, George, muft pay in all places. The only difference is, that in good inns, you pay dearly for luxuries; in bad inns, you are fleeced and ftarved.

HASTINGS.

You have lived pretty much among them. In truth, I have been often furprised, that you who have feen fo much of the world, with your natural good fenfe, and your many opportunities, could never yet acquire a requifite fhare of assurance.

MARLOW.

The Englishman's malady. But tell me, George, where could I have learned that affurance you talk

VOL. II.

M

of?