« 이전계속 »
Tony. It's a damn'd long, dark, boggy, dirty, dangerous way. Stingo, tell the gentlemen the way to Mr. Hardcastle's ! (Winking upon the Landlord.) Mr. Hardcastle's, of Quagmire Marsh, you understand me?
Land. Master Hardcastle's! Lock-a-daisy, my masters, you're come a deadly deal wrong! When you came to the bottom of the hill, you should have cross'd down Squash-Lane.
Marl. Cross down Squash-Lane !
Land. Then you were to keep straight forward, 'till you came to four roads.
Marl. Come to where four roads meet!
Tony. Ay; but you must be sure to take only one of them.
Marl. O Sir, you're facetious.
Tony. Then keeping to the right, you are to go sideways 'till you come upon
Crack-skull common: there you must look sharp for the track of the wheel, and go forward 'till you come to farmer Murrain's barn. Coming to the farmer's barn you are to turn to the right, and then to the left, and then to the right about again, till
find out the old mill.
Marl. Zounds, man ! we could as soon find out the longitude !
Hast. What's to be done, Marlow ? · Marl. This house promises but a poor reception ; though perhaps the landlord can accommodate us.
Land. Alack, master, we have but one spare bed in the whole house.
Tony. And to my knowledge, that's taken up by three lodgers already. (After a pause, in which the rest seem disconcerted.) I have hit it. Don't you think, Stingo, our landlady could accommodate the gentlemen by the fireside, with three chairs and a bolster ?
Hast. I hate sleeping by the fire-side.
Marl. And I detest your three chairs and a bolster.
you go on a mile further, to the Buck’s Head; the old Buck's Head on the hill, one of the best inns in the whole county ?
Hast. O ho! so we have escaped an adventure for this night, however.
Land. (A part to Tony.) Sure, you ben't sending them to your father's as an inn, be you
? Tony. Mum, you fool you. Let them find that out. (To them.) You have only to keep on straight forward, till you come to a large old house by the road side. You'll see a pair of large horns over the door. That's the sign. Drive up the yard, and call stoutly about you.
Hast. Sir, we are obliged to you. The servants can't miss the way?
Tony. No, no; but I tell you though, the landlord is rich, and going to leave off business ; so he wants to be thought a gentleman, saving your presence, he ! he ! he! He'll be for giving you his company, and ecod, if you mind him, he'll persuade you that his mother was an alderman, and his aunt a justice of peace.
Land. A troublesome old blade to be sure ; but a' keeps as good wines and beds as any in the whole country.
Marl. Well, if he supplies us with these, we shall want no farther connexion. We are to turn to the right, did you say
? Tony. No, no : straight forward. · I'll just step myself, and shew you a piece of the way. (To the landlord.) Mum.
Land. Ah, bless your heart, for a sweet, pleasantdamn'd mischievous son of a whore.
H, at tible
litir face for They're a little too stiff, indeed, but that's no great
Hard. Well, I hope you are perfect in the table exercise I have been teaching you these three days. You all know your posts and your places, and can shew that you have been used to good company, without ever stirring from home.
Omnes. Ay, ay. (Ataudinleme
out and stare, and then run in again, like frighted rabbits in
Omnes. No, no.
Hard. You, Diggory, whom I have taken from the barn, are to make a shew at the side-table; and you, Roger, whom I have advanced from the plough, are to place yourself behind my chair. But you're not to stand so, 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.
Dig. Ay, mind how I hold them. I learned to hold my hands this way, when I was upon drill for the militia. And so being upon drill
Hard. You must not be so talkative, Diggory. You must be all attention to the guests. You must hear us talk, and not think of talking; you must see us drink, and not think of drinking—you must see us eat, and not think of eating.
Dig. By the laws, your worship, that's parfectly unpossible. Whenever Diggory sees yeating going forward, ecod, he's always wishing for a mouthful himself.
Hard. Blockhead! Is not a belly-full in the kitchen as good as a belly-full in the parlour ? Stay your stomach with that reflection.
Dig. Ecod, I thank your worship, I'll make a shift to stay my stomach with a slice of cold beef in the pantry.
Hard. Diggory, you are too talkative. Then if I happen to say a good thing, or tell a good story at table, you must not all burst out a-laughing, as if you made part of the company
Dig. Then ecod, your worship must not tell the story of ould grouse in the gun-room : I can't help laughing at that he ! he! he !—for the soul of me. We have laughed at that these twenty years—ha! ha! ha!
Hard. Ha! ha! ha! The story 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 glass of wine, how will you behave ? A glass of wine, Sir, if you please, (To Diggory)—Eh, why don't you move ?
Dig. Ecod, your worship, I never have courage till I see the eatables and drinkables brought upo' the table, and then I'm as bauld as a lion.
Hard. What, will nobody move ?
Hard. You numbskulls ! and so while, like your betters, you are quarrelling for places, the guests must be starved. 0
dunces ! I find I must begin all over againBut don't I hear a coach drive into the yard ? To your posts, you blockheads. I'll go in the mean time, and give my old friend's son a hearty reception at the gate.
[Exit Hardcastle. E 3
Dig. By the elevens, my place is gone quite out of my
Roger. I know that my place is to be every where.
Second Serv. My place is to be no where at all; and so
as if frighted, different ways.
'hongth im holder
at hem tell he beans Enter Servant with candles, shewing in Marlow and
Hast. After the disappointments of the day, welcome
Marl. The usual fate of a large mansion. Having first
Hast. As you say, we passengers are to be taxed to pay
Hast. You have lived pretty much among them. In
Marl. The Englishman's malady. But tell me, George, where could I have learned that assurance you talk of ? My life has been chiefly spent in a college or an inn, in seclusion from that lovely part of the creation that chiefly