much of their early celebrity; for, contrary to the declarations of the knowing ones, John Bull welcomed this comedy with cheers; and, by the aid of Goldsmith, Nature and Laughter resumed their honours on the British stage. We know that this piece is, by some critics, considered as a farce; but still it must be ranked among the farces of a man of genias. One of the most ludicrous circumstances it contains (that of the robbery) is borrowed from Albumazar. It met with great success, and is still frequently acted.

ACT I.

humour. Come, Mr. Hardcastle, you must

SCENE I. A Chamber in an old-fashioned allow the boy a little humour.

House.

Hard. I'd sooner allow him an horsepond. If burning the footman's shoes, frighting the Enter HARDCASTLE and MRS. HARDCASTLE. maids, worrying the kittens, be humour, he Mrs. H. I vow, Mr. Hardcastle, you're very has it. It was but yesterday he fastened my particular. Is there a creature in the whole wig to the back of my chair, and when I went country, but ourselves, that does not take a to make a bow, I popp'd my bald head into trip to town now and then to rub off the rust Mrs. Frizzle's face.

a little? There's the two miss Hoggs, and our Mrs. H. And am I to blame? The poor boy neighbour, Mrs. Grigsby, go to take a month's was always too sickly to do any good. Ă polishing every winter. school would be his death. When he comes

Hard. Ay, and bring back vanity and affec-to be a little stronger, who knows what a tation to last them the whole year. I wonder year or two's Latin may do for him? why London cannot keep its own fools at Hard. Latin for him! a cat and a fiddle. home. In my time, the follies of the town No, no, the alehouse and the stable are the crept slowly among us, but now they travel only schools he'll ever go to.

faster than a stage-coach. Its fopperies come Mrs. H. Well, we must not snub the poor down, not only as inside passengers, but in boy now, for I believe we shan't have him the very basket. long among us. Any body that looks in his face may see he's consumptive.

Mrs. H. Ay, your times were fine times indeed; you have been telling us of them for many a long year. Here we live in an old rumbling mansion, that looks for all the world like an inn, but that we never see company. Our best visitors are old Mrs. Oddfish, the curate's wife, and little Cripplegate, the lame dancingmaster; and all our entertainment your old stories of prince Eugene and the duke of Marlborough. I hate such old-fashioned trumpery.

Hard. And I love it. I love every thing that's old: old friends, old times, old manners, old books, old wine; and I believe, Dorothy, [Taking her Hand] you'll own I have been pretty fond of an old wife.

Mrs. H. Lord, Mr. Hardcastle, you're for ever at your Dorothy's, and your old wives. You may be a Darby, but I'll be no Joan, I promise you. I'm not so old as you'd make me by more than one good year. Add twenty to twenty, and make money of that.

Hard. Let me see; twenty added to twenty makes just fifty and seven.

Hard. Ay, if growing too fat be one of the symptoms.

Mrs. H. He coughs sometimes. Hard. Yes, when his liquor goes the wrong way.

Mrs. H. I'm actually afraid of his lungs. Hard. And truly so am I; for he sometimes whoops like a speaking-trumpet-[Tony hallooing behind the Scenes]-O there he goes-A very consumptive figure, truly.

Enter TONY, crossing the Stage. Mrs. H. Tony, where are you going, my charmer? Won't you give papa and I a little your company, lovee?

of

Tony. I'm in haste, mother, I can't stay. Mrs. H. You shan't venture out this raw evening, my dear; you look most shockingly. Tony. I can't stay, I tell you. The Three Pigeons expect me down every moment. There's some fun going forward.

Hard. Ay; the alehouse, the old place: I thought so.

Mrs. H. Its false, Mr. Hardcastle: I was but Mrs. H. A low, paltry set of fellows. twenty when I was brought to bed of Tony, Tony. Not so low, neither. There's Dick that I had by Mr. Lumpkin, my first husband; Muggins the exciseman, Jack Slang the horseaud he's not come to years of discretion yet. doctor, little Aminidab that grinds the music Hard. Nor ever will, I dare answer for box, and Tom Twist that spins the pewter him. Ay, you have taught him finely.

Mrs. H. No matter; Tony Lumpkin has a good fortune. My son is not to live by his learning. I don't think a boy wants much learning to spend fifteen hundred a year. Hard. Learning, quotha! a mere composition of tricks and mischief.

Mrs. H. Humour, my dear; nothing but

platter.

Mrs. H. Pray, my dear, disappoint them for one night at least.

Tony. As for disappointing them, I should not so much mind: but I can't abide to disappoint myself.

Mrs. H. [Detaining him] You shan't go.
Tony. I will, I tell you,

Mrs. H. I say you shan't. Ito catch me, I promise you. However, if he Tony. We'll see which is strongest, you be so young, so handsome, and so every thing, or I. [Exit, hauling her out. as you mention, I believe he'll do still. Hard. Ay, there goes a pair that only spoil think I'll have him.

each other. But is not the whole age in a Hard. Ay, Kate, but there is still an obstacle. combination to drive sense and discretion out It's more than an even wager he may not of doors? There's my pretty darling Kate; have you.

the fashions of the times have almost infected Miss H. My dear papa, why will you morher too. By living a year or two in town, tify one so?-Well, if he refuses, instead of she is as fond of gauze and French frippery, breaking my heart at his indifference, I'll only as the best of them. break my glass for its flattery; set my cap to some newer fashion, and look out for some less difficult admirer.

Enter Miss HARDCASTLE.

Hard. Blessings on my pretty innocence! Hard. Bravely resolved! In the mean time Dress'd out as usual, my Kate. Goodness! I'll go prepare the servants for his reception; what a quantity of superfluous silk hast thou as we seldom see company, they want as much got about thee, girl! I could never teach the training as a company of recruits the first fools of this age, that the indigent world could day's muster.

[Exit.

be clothed out of the trimmings of the vain. Miss H. Lud, this news of papa's puts me Miss H. You know our agreement, sir. You all in a flutter. Young, handsome; these he allow me the morning to receive and pay puts last; but I put them foremost. Sensible, visits, and to dress in my own manner; and good-natured; I like all that. But then rein the evening, I put on my housewife's dress served and sheepish; that's much against him. to please you. Yet can't he be cured of his timidity, by being taught to be proud of his wife? Yes, and can't I-But I vow I'm disposing of the husband, before I have secured the lover.

Hard. Well, remember I insist on the terms of our agreement: and, by-the-by, I believe I shall have occasion to try your obedience this very evening.

Miss H. I protest, sir, I don't comprehend your meaning.

Hard. Then to be plain with you, Kate, I expect the young gentleman I have chosen to be your husband from town this very day. I have his father's letter, in which he informs me his son is set out, and that he intends to follow himself shortly after.

Enter MISS NEVILLE.

Miss H. I'm glad you're come, Neville, my dear. Tell me, Constance, how do I look this evening? Is there any thing whimsical about me? Is it one of my well looking days, child? am I in face to-day?

Miss N. Perfectly, my dear. Yet now I look again-bless me! sure no accident has hapMiss H. Indeed! I wish I had known some-pened among the canary birds or the gold thing of this before. Bless me, how shall I fishes. Has your brother or the cat been behave? It's a thousand to one I shan't like meddling? Or has the last novel been too him; our meeting will be so formal, and so like a thing of business, that I shall find no room for friendship or esteem.

Hard. Depend upon it, child, I'll never control your choice; Mr. Marlow, whom I have pitched upon, is the son of my old friend, sir Charles Marlow, of whom you have heard me talk so often. The young gentleman has been bred a scholar, and is designed for an employment in the service of his country, am told he's a man of an excellent understanding.

Miss H. Is he?

Hard. Very generous.

Miss H. I believe I shall like him.
Hard. Young and brave.

Miss H. I'm sure I shall like him.
Hard. And very handsome.

moving?

Miss H. No; nothing of all this. I have been threatened-I can scarce get it out-l have been threatened with a lover. Miss N. And his nameMiss H. Is Marlow.

Miss N. Indeed!

Miss H. The son of sir Charles Marlow.

Miss N. As I live, the most intimate friend of Mr. Hastings, my admirer. They are never asunder. I believe you must have seen him when we lived in town.

Miss H. Never.

Miss N. He's a very singular character, I assure you. Among women of reputation and virtue, he is the modestest man alive; but his acquaintance give him a very different character among creatures of another stamp: you under

Miss H. My dear papa, say no more; [Kiss-stand me.

ing his Hand] he's mine, I'll have him.

Miss H. An odd character indeed. I shall Hard. And, to crown all, Kate, he's one of never be able to manage him. What shall I the most bashful and reserved young fellows do? Pshaw, think no more of him; but trust in the world. to occurrences for success. But how goes on your own affair, my dear? has my mother been courting you for my brother Tony, as usual?

Miss H. Eh! you have frozen me to death again. That word reserved has undone all the rest of his accomplishments. A reserved lover, it is said, always makes a suspicious husband.

Hard. On the contrary, modesty seldom resides in a breast that is not enriched with nobler virtues. It was the very feature in his character that first struck me.

Miss H. He must have more striking features

Miss N. I have just come from one of our agreeable tête-a-têtes. She has been saying a hundred tender things, and setting off her pretty monster as the very pink of perfection.

Miss H. And her partiality is such, that she actually thinks him so. A fortune like yours is no small temptation. Besides, as she has

the sole management of it, I'm not surprised to see her unwilling to let it go out of the family.

Miss N. A fortune like mine, which chiefly consists in jewels, is no such mighty temptation. But at any rate, if my dear Hastings be but constant, I make no doubt to be too hard for her at last. However, I let her suppose that I am in love with her son, and she never once dreams that my affections are fixed upon another.

Omnes. Bravo, bravo.

1 Fel. The squire has got spunk in him. 2 Fel. I loves to hear him sing, bekeays he never gives us nothing that's low.

3 Fel. O, damn any thing that's low; 1 can't bear it.

4 Fel. The genteel thing is the genteel thing at any time, if so be that a gentleman bees in a concatenation accordingly.

3 Fel. I like the maxum of it, master Muggins. What though I am obligated to dance Miss H. My good brother holds out stoutly. a bear, a man may be a gentleman for all I could almost love him for hating you so. that. May this be my poison if my bear ever Miss N. It is a good natur'd creature at dances but to the very genteelest of tunes.bottom, and I'm sure would wish to see me "Water parted," or the minuet in Ariadne. married to any body but himself. But my 2 Fel. What a pity it is the squire is aunt's bell rings for our afternoon's walk round not come to his own. It would be well the improvements. Allons, courage is neces- for all the publicans within ten miles round sary, as our affairs are critical.

of him.

Miss H. Would it were bed time and all Tony. Ecod, and so it would, master Slang. were well. [Exeunt. I'd then show what it was to keep choice of company.

SCENE II.-An Alehouse-room. Several shabby Fellows, with Punch and Tobacco. TONY at the Head of the Table, a little higher than the Rest: a Mallet in

his Hand.

I'll wager the rascals a crown,

They always preach best with a skinful.

2 Fel. Oh, he takes after his own father for that. To be sure old squire Lumpkin was the finest gentleman I ever set my eyes on. For winding the straight horn, or beating a thicket for a hare, or a wench, he never had his fellow. It was a saying in the place, that he kept the best horses, dogs, and girls in the whole county.

Tony. Ecod, and when I'm of age I'll be no bastard, I promise you. I have been thinking of Bet Bouncer and the miller's grey mare to begin with. But come, my boys, drink about and be merry, for you pay no reckoning. Well, Stingo, what's the matter?

Enter Landlord.

Land. There be two gentlemen in a postchaise at the door. They have lost their way upo' the forest, and they are talking something about Mr. Hardcastle.

Tony. As sure as can be, one of them must be the gentleman that's coming down to court my sister. Do they seem to be Londoners?

Land. I believe they may. They look woundily like Frenchmen.

Tony. Then desire them to step this way, and I'll set them right in a twinkling. [Exit Land

But when you come down with your pence, lord] Gentlemen, as they mayn't be good
For a slice of their scurvy religion,
I'll leave it to all men of sense,
But you, my good friend, are the
Toroddle, toroddle, toroll.

enough company for you, step down for a moment, and I'll be with you in the squeezpigeoning of a lemon. [Exeunt Mob] Father-in-law has been calling me whelp, and hound, this half-year. Now if I pleased, I could be so revenged upon the old grumbletonian. But then I'm afraid of what! I shall soon be worth fifteen hundred a year, and let him frighten me out of that if he can.

Then come, put the jorum about,
And let us be merry and clever;
Our hearts and our liquours are stout;
Here's the Three Jolly Pigeons for ever.
Let some cry up woodcock or hare,

Your bustards, your ducks, and your widgeons;
But of all the birds in the air,
Here's a health to the Three Jolly Pigeons.
Toroddle, toroddle, toroll.

།

Enter Landlord, conducting MARLOW and
HASTINGS.

Mar. What a tedious, uncomfortable day have we had of it. We were told it was ») It is the business of the President at a free and easy but forty miles across the country, and we club, such as this, to call to silence, proclaim a toast, have come above threescore. call for a song, etc., by striking on the table with Hast. And all, Marlow, from that unacpenalty of a fine of glasses round (a glass of whatever Countable reserve of yours, that would not the company is drinking to every person present), or let us inquire more frequently on the way. to drink a pint glass of salt and water, this, of course, Mar. I own, Hastings, I am unwilling to lay my self under an obligation to every one

his hammer, which every one is bound to obey, under

means as long as the members are not quite intoxi

eated.

I meet; and often stand the chance of an unmannerly answer.

Hast. At present, however, we are not likely to receive any answer.

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 Hard-bit it; don't you think, Stingo, our landlady could accommodate the gentlemen by the fireside,

Tony. No offence, gentlemen; but I'm told you have been inquiring for one Mr. castle, in these parts. Do you know what part of the country you are in?

Hast. Not in the least, sir; but should thank you for information.

are,

your way.

with-three chairs and a bolster?

Hast. I hate sleeping by the fireside, Mar. And I detest your three chairs and a bolster.

Tony. Nor the way you came? Hast. No, sir; but if you can inform us- Tony. You do, do you?-than let me see Tony. Why, gentlemen, if you know nei--what-if you go on a mile further, to the ther the road you are going, nor where you Buck's Head, the old Buck's Head on the hill, nor the road you came, the first thing one of the best inns in the whole country? I have to inform you is, that-you have lost Hast. O ho! so we have escaped an adventure for this night, however. Mar. We wanted no ghost to tell us that. Land. [Apart to Tony] Sure you ben't Tony. Pray, gentlemen, may I be so bold sending them to your father's as an inn, be as to ask the place from whence you came? you? Mar. That's not necessary towards directing Tony. Mum, you fool you; let them find us where we are to go. that out. [To them] You have only to keep Tony. No offence: but question for question on straight forward till you come to a large is all fair, you know. Pray, gentlemen, is not house by the road side: you'll see a pair of this same Hardcastle a cross-grain'd, old-fa- large horns over the door, that's the sign. shion'd, whimsical fellow, with an ugly face, a Drive up the yard, and call stoutly about you. daughter, and a pretty son?

Hast. We have not seen the gentleman, but he has the family you mention,

Tony. The daughter, a tall, trapesing, trolloping, talkative maypole-the son, a pretty, well-bred, agreeable youth, that every body

is fond of.

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 Mar. Our information differs in this: the mind him, he'll persuade you that his mother daughter is said to be well-bred and beauti- was an alderman, and his aunt a justice of ful; the son, an awkward booby, reared up peace. and spoiled at his mother's apronstring. Land. A troublesome old blade, to be sure; Tony. He-he-hem-Then, gentlemen, all I but a keeps as good wines and beds as any have to tell you is, that you won't reach Mr. in the whole country. Hardcastle's house this night, I believe.

Hast. Unfortunate!

Tony. It's a damn'd long, dark, boggy,

We

I'll just

Mar. Well, if he supplies us with these, we shall want no further connexion. are to turn to the right, did you say? dirty, dangerous way. Stingo, tell the gentle- Tony. No, no, straight forward. men the way to Mr. Hardcastle's; [Winking step myself, and show you a piece of the upon the Landlord] Mr. Hardcastle's, of way. [To the Landlord] Mum. Quagmire-marsh, you understand me.

Land. Master Hardcastle's! Lack-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.

Mar. Cross down Squash-lane. Land. Then you were to keep straight forward till you came to four roads.

Mar. Come to where four roads meet? Tony, Ay, but you must be sure to take only one of them.

Mar. O, sir, you're facetious.

Land. Ah, bless your heart, for a sweet, pleasant-damn'd, mischievous son of a whore. [Exeunt.

ACT II.

SCENE I.-An old fashioned House. Enter HARDCASTLE, followed by three or four awkward Servants.

Hard. 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 show that you have been used to good company, without stirring from home. Omnes. Ay, ay.

Tony. Then keeping to the right, you are to go sideways till you come upon Crackskull common: there you must look sharp for the track of the wheel, and go forward till Hard. When company comes, you are not you come to farmer Murrain's barn. Coming to pop out and stare, and then run in again, to the farmer's barn, you are to turn to the like frighted rabbits in a warren. right, and then to the left, and then to the right about again, till you find out the old mill

Mar. Zounds, man! we could as soon find out the longitude!

Omnes. No, no.

Hard. You, Diggory, whom I have taken from the barn, are to make a show at the side-table; and you, Roger, whom I have advanced from the plough, are to place yourHast. What's to be done, Marlow? self behind my chair. But you're not to stand Mar. This house promises but a poor so, with your hands in your pockets. Take ception; though perhaps the landlord can ac- your hands from your pockets, Roger, and commodate us.

re

from your head, you blockhead you. See how

Diggory carries his hands. They're a little | Mar. The usual fate of a large mansion. too stiff, indeed, but that's no great matter. Having first ruined the master by good houseDig. Ay, mind how I hold them: I learned keeping, it at last comes to levy contributions to hold my hands this way when I was upon as an inn.

drill for the militia. And so being upon drill- Hast. As you say, we passengers are to be Hard. You must not be so talkative, Dig- taxed to pay all these fineries. I have often gory; you must be all attention to the guests: seen a good sideboard, or a marble chimneyYou must hear us talk, and not think of talk- piece, though not actually put in the bill, ining; you must see us drink, and not think of flame the bill confoundedly. drinking; you must see us eat, and not think of eating.

Dig. By the laws, your worship, that's perfectly unpossible. Whenever Diggory sees yeating going forwards, ecod he's always wishing for a mouthful himself.

Mar. 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.

Hast. You have lived pretty much among them. In truth, I have been often surprised Hard. Blockhead! is not a bellyful in the that you who have seen SO much of the kitchen as good as a bellyful in the parlour? world, with your natural good sense, and 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.

your many opportunities, could never yet acquire a requisite share of assurance.

Mar. The Englishman's malady: but tell me, George, where could I have learned that Hard. Diggory, you are too talkative. Then assurance you talk of? My life has been if I happen to say a good thing, or tell a chiefly spent in a college or an inn, in segood story at table, you must not all burst clusion from that lovely part of the creation out a laughing, as if you made part of the that chiefly teach men confidence. I don't know that I was ever familiarly acquainted

company.

one.

Hast. Ay, among them you are impudent enough of all conscience,

Dig. Then ecod your worship must not with a single woman-except my mother.tell the story of Ould Grouse in the gun- But among females of another class, you room: I can't help laughing at that-be! he! know— 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 Mar. They are of us, you know. Well, honest Diggory, you may laugh Hast. But in the company of women of at that-but still remember to be attentive. reputation I never saw such an ideot, such Suppose one of the company should call for a trembler; you look for all the world as if a glass of wine, how will you behave? A you wanted an opportunity of stealing out of glass of wine, sir, if you please. [To Diggo- the room. ry]-Eh, why don't you move? Dig. Ecod, your worship, I never have to steal out of the room. Faith, I have often 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?
1 Sero. I'm not to leave this place.
2 Serv. I'm sure it's no pleace of mine.
3 Serv. Nor mine, for sartain.

Dig. Wauns, and I'm sure it canna be mine.

Mar. Why, man, that's because I do want

formed a resolution to break the ice, and rattle away at any rate. But I don't know how, a single glance from a pair of fine eyes has totally overset my resolution. An impudent fellow may counterfeit modesty, but I'll be hanged if a modest man can ever counterfeit impudence.

Hast. If you could but say half the fine things to them that I have heard you lavish upon the bar-maid of an inn, or even a college bed-maker

Hard. You numskulls! and so while, like your betters, you are quarrelling for places, the guests must be starv'd. O you dunces! I Mar. Why, George, I can't say fine things find I must begin all over again. But don't to them. They freeze, they petrify me. They I hear a coach drive into the yard? To your may talk of a comet, or a burning mountain, posts, you blockheads. I'll go in the mean time or some such bagatelle; but to me a modest and give my old friend's son a hearty wel- woman, drest out in all her finery, is the come at the gate. [Exit. most tremendous object of the whole creation. Dig By the elevens, my place is gone Hast. Ha ha! ha! At this rate, man, how quite out of my head. can you ever expect to marry?

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

1 Serv. Where the devil is mine?

2 Serv. My place is to be no where at all; and so I'ze go about my business. [Exeunt Servants, running about, as if frighted, different Ways.

Mar. Never, unless, as among kings and princes, my bride were to be courted by proxy. If indeed, like an eastern bridegroom, one were to be introduced to a wife he never saw before, it might be endured. But to go through all the terrors of a formal courtship, together with the episode of aunts, grandmothers, cousins, and at last to blurt out the broad start-question, of madam, will you marry me? No, no, that's a strain much above me,

Enter MARLOW and HASTINGS. Hast. After the disapointments of the day, welcome once more, Charles, to the comforts I assure you. of a clean room and a good fire. Upon my Hast. I pity you; but how do you intend word, a very well-looking house; antique, behaving to the lady you are come down to but creditable. visit at the request of your father?