fentimux

SHE STOOPS TO CONQUER.

73

Marl. Nothing, my dear, nothing. But I was in for a list of blunders, and could not help making you a subscriber. My stupidity saw everything the wrong way. I mistook your assiduity for assurance, and your simplicity for allurement. But it's over. This house I no more show my face in.

Miss Hard. I hope, sir, I have done nothing to disoblige you. I'm sure I should be sorry to affront any gentleman who has been so polite, and said so many civil things to me. I'm sure I should be sorry [pretending to cry] if he left the family upon my account. I'm sure I should be sorry, people said anything amiss, since I have no fortune but my character.

Marl. [Aside.] By Heaven, she weeps. This is the first mark of tenderness I ever had from a modest woman, and it touches me. [To her.] Excuse me, my lovely girl, you are the only part of the family I leave with reluctance. But to be plain with you, the difference of our birth, fortune, and education, make an honourable connection impossible; and I can never harbour a thought of bringing ruin upon one whose only fault was being too lovely.

Miss Hard. [Aside.] Generous man! I now begin to admire him. [To him.] But I'm sure my family is as good as Mr. Hardcastle's; and though I'm poor, that's no great misfortune to a contented mind; and until this moment, I never thought that it was bad to want fortune.

Marl. And why now, my pretty simplicity?

Miss Hard. Because it puts me at a distance from

1

one, that if I had a thousand pound, I would give it all to.

Marl. [Aside.] This simplicity bewitches me So, that if I stay I'm undone. I must make one bold effort, and leave her. [To her.] Your partiality in my favour, my dear, touches me most sensibly; and were I to live for myself alone, I could easily fix my choice. But I owe too much to the opinion of the world, too much to the authority of a father, so thatI can scarcely speak it-it affects me.

Farewell.

[Exit.

Miss Hard. I never knew half his merit till now. He shall not go, if I have power or art to detain him. I'll still preserve the character in which I stooped to conquer; but will undeceive my papa, who, perhaps, may laugh him out of his resolution. [Exit.

Enter TONY, MISS NEVILLE.

Tony. Ay, you may steal for yourselves the next time. I have done my duty. She has got the jewels again, that's a sure thing; but she believes it was all a mistake of the servants.

Miss Nev. But, my dear cousin, sure you won't forsake us in this distress. If she in the least suspects that I'm going off, I shall certainly be locked up, or sent to my Aunt Pedigree's, which is ten times

worse.

Tony. To be sure, aunts of all kinds are bad things; but what can I do? I have got you a pair of horses that will fly like Whistle-jacket, and I'm sure you can't say but I have courted you nicely before her face.

Here she comes; we must court a bit or two more, for

fear she should suspect us.

[They retire and seem to fondle.

Enter MRS. HARDCASTLE.

Mrs. Hard. Well, I was greatly fluttered, to be sure. But my son tells me it was all a mistake of the servants. I shan't be easy, however, till they are fairly married, and then let her keep her own fortune. But what do I see? Fondling together, as I'm alive. I never saw Tony so sprightly before. Ah! have I caught you, my pretty doves? What! billing, exchanging stolen glances, and broken murmurs? Ah!

Tony. As for murmurs, mother, we grumble a little, now and then, to be sure. But there's no love lost between us.

Mrs. Hard. A mere sprinkling, Tony, upon the flame, only to make it burn brighter.

Miss Nev. Cousin Tony promises to give us more of his company at home. Indeed, he shan't leave us any more. It won't leave us, Cousin Tony, will it?

Tony. Oh! it's a pretty creature. No, I'd sooner leave my horse in a pound, than leave you, when you smile upon one So. Your laugh makes you so becoming.

Miss Nev. Agreeable cousin! Who can help admiring that natural humour, that pleasant, broad, red, thoughtless [patting his cheek], ah! it's a bold face.

Mrs. Hard. Pretty innocence !

Tony. I'm sure I always loved Cousin Con's hazel eyes, and her pretty long fingers, that she twists this

way and that, over the haspicholls, like a parcel of bobbins.

Mrs. Hard. Ah! he would charm the bird from the tree. I was never so happy before. My boy takes

The

after his father, poor
jewels, my dear Con,
You shall have them.
You shall be married to-morrow, and we'll put off the
rest of his education, like Mr. Drowsy's sermons, to a
fitter opportunity.

Mr. Lumpkin, exactly.
shall be yours incontinently.
Isn't he a sweet boy, my dear?

Enter DIGGORY.

Digg. Where's the 'squire ? I have got a letter for your worship.

Tony. Give it to my mamma.

letters first.

She reads all my

Digg. I had orders to deliver it into your own hands.

Tony. Who does it come from?

Digg. Your worship mun ask that o' the letter itself.

Tony. I could wish to know though. [Turning the letter and gazing on it.]

Miss Nev. [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 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, Esq." 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 is all-buzz. That's hard, very hard; for the inside of the letter is always the cream of the correspondence.

Mrs. Hard. Ha! ha ha! Very well, very well. And so my son was too hard for the philcsopher.

Miss Nev. 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. Hard. He seems strangely puzzled now himself, methinks.

Tony [Still gazing.] An 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 a S; but whether the next be izzard or an R, confound me, I cannot tell.

Mrs. Hard. What's that, my dear? you any assistance ?

Can I give

Miss Nev. 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 Nev. Ay, so it is. [Pretending to read.] "Dear 'Squire,-Hoping that you're in health, as I am