ACT II. SCENE, An Old-Fashioned House. Enter Hardcastle, followed by three or four Hardcastle. Well, I hope you're 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 stir- 5 ring from home. Omnes. Ay, ay. Hard. When company comes, you are not to pop out and stare, and then run in again, like frighted rabbits in a warren. Omnes. No, no. IO Hard. You, Diggory, whom I have taken from the barn, are to make a shew at the sidetable; and you, Roger, whom I have advanced from the plough, are to place yourself behind 15 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, 10 frighted, octavos; recent editions, frightened. you blockhead, you. See how Diggory carries his hands. They're a little too stiff, indeed, but 20 that's no great matter. Diggory. Ay, mind how I learned to hold my hands this was upon drill for the militia. upon drill hold them. I way, when I 25 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 eat- 30 ing. 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. 35 Dig. Ecod, I thank your worship, I'll make a shift to stay my stomach with a slice of cold 4° 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 45 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! 50 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 55 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. 60 Hard. What, will no body move? First Servant. I'm not to leave this pleace. Second Servant. I'm sure it's no pleace of mine. Third Servant. Nor mine, for sartain. 65 Dig. Wauns, and I'm sure it canna be mine. Hard. You numbskulls! and so, 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 70 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. Dig. By the elevens, my pleace is gone quite out of my head! Roger. I know that my pleace is to be every where! First Serv. Where the devil is mine? Second Serv. My pleace is to be no where at all; and so Ize go about my business! Exeunt Servants, running about as Enter Servant with candles, shewing in Servant. Welcome, gentlemen, very welcome. 75 80 Hastings. After the disappointments of the day, welcome once more, Charles, to the comforts of a clean room and a good fire. Upon my 85 word, a very well-looking house; antique but creditable. Marlow. The usual fate of a large mansion. Having first ruined the master by good housekeeping, it at last comes to levy contributions as 90 an inn. Hast. As you say, we passengers are to be taxed to pay all these fineries. I have often seen a good sideboard, or a marble chimney-piece, tho' not actually put in the bill, enflame a reckoning 95 confoundedly. Marl. Travellers, George, must pay in all places. The only difference is that in good inns you pay dearly for luxuries; in bad inns you are fleeced and starved. 100 Hast. You have lived pretty much among them. In truth, I have been often surprized that you who have seen so much of the world, with your natural good sense, and your many opportunities, could never yet acquire a requisite 105 share of assurance. 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 110 that lovely part of the creation that chiefly teach men confidence. I don't know that I was ever familiarly acquainted with a single modest woman -except my mother-But among females of another class, you know Hast. Ay, among them you are impudent enough of all conscience! Marl. They are of us, you know. 115 Hast. But in the company of women of reputation I never saw such an ideot, such a trembler ; 120 you look for all the world as if you wanted an opportunity of stealing out of the room. Marl. Why, man, that's because I do want to steal out of the room. Faith, I have often |