Mrs. H. Don't be alarm'd, Constance. If they be lost, I must restore an equivalent. But my son knows they are missing and not to be found. Tony. That I can bear witness to. They are miss-inn: ha! ha! I don't wonder at his impudence. ing and not to be found, I'll take my oath on't. Enter MISS HARDCASTLE and Maid. Miss. H. What an unaccountable creature is that brother of mine, to send them to the house as an Mrs. H. You must learn resignation, my dear; for though we lose our fortune, yet we should not lose our patience. See me, how calm I am. Miss N. Ay, people are generally calm at the misfortunes of others. Mrs. H. Now I wonder a girl of your good sense should waste a thought upon such trunipery. We shall soon find them; and, in the meantime, you shall make use of my garnets till your jewels be found. Miss N. I detest garnets! Mrs. H. The most becoming things in the world, to set off a clear complexion. You have often seen how well they look upon me. You shall have them. [Exit. Miss N. Was ever anything so provoking, to mislay my own jewels, and force me to wear trumpery. Tony. Don't be a fool. If she gives you the garnets, take what you can get. The jewels are your own already. I have stolen them out of her bureau, and she does not know it. Fly to your spark, he'll tell you more of the matter. Leave me to manage her. Miss N. My dear cousin! [Exit. Tony. Vanish! She's here; and has missed them already, Zounds! how she fidgets and spits about like a Catharine wheel! Enter MRS. HARDCASTLE. Mrs. H. Confusion! thieves! robbers! We are cheated, plundered, broke open, undone. Tony. What's the matter, what's the matter, mamma? I hope nothing has happened to any of the good family. Mrs. H. We are robbed. My bureau has been broken open, the jewels taken out, and I am undone. Tony. O! is that all? ha! ha! ha! By the laws, I never saw it better acted in my life, Ecod! I thought you was ruined in earnest, ha! ha! ha! Mrs. H. Why, boy, I am ruined in earnest. My bureau has been broken open, and all taken away. Tony. Stick to that. Ha! ha! ha! stick to that; call me to bear witness. Mrs. H. I tell you Tony, by all that's precious, the jewels are gone, and I shall be ruined for ever. Tony. Sure I know they're gone, and I am to say Mrs. H. My dearest Tony, but hear me. They're gone, I say. Tony. By the laws, mamma, you make me for to laugh, ha! ha! ha! I know who took them well enough, ha! ha ha! Mrs. H. Was there ever such a blockhead, that can't tell the difference between jest and earnest. I tell you I'm not in jest, booby. Tony. That's right, that's right: you must be in a bitter passion, and then nobody will suspect either of us. I'll bear witness that they are gone. Mrs. H. Can you bear witness that you're no better than a fool? Was ever poor woman so beset with fools in one hand, and thieves on the other? Tony. I can bear witness to that. Mrs. H. Bear witness again you blockhead, you, and I'll turn you out of the room directly. My niece, what will become of her? Do you laugh, you unfeeling brute, as if you enjoyed my distress. Maid. But what is more, madam, the young gentleman, as you passed by in your present dress, ask'd me if you were the bar-maid. He mistook you for the bar-maid, madam. Miss H. Did he? Then, as I live, I'm resolved Miss H. And are you sure he don't remember Miss H. I vow I thought so; for though wo spoke for some time together, yet his fears were such, that he never once looked up during the interview. Indeed, if he had, my bonnet would have kept him from seeing me. Maid. But what do you hope from keeping him in his mistake? Miss H. In the first place, I shall be seen; and that is no small advantage to a girl who brings her face to market. Then I shall perhaps make an acquaintance; and that's no small victory gained over one who never addresses any but the vilest of her sex. But my chief aim is to take my gentleman off his guard; and like an invisible champion of romance, examine the giant's force before I offer to combat. Maid. But are you sure you can act your part, and disguise your voice, so that he may mistake that, as he has already mistaken your person? Miss H. Never fear me; I think I have got the Enter MARLOW. [Exit. Mar. What a bawling in every part of the house! I have scarce a moment's repose. If I go to the best room, there I find my host and his story. If I fly to the gallery, there we have my hostess with her curtsey down to the ground. I have at last got a moment to myself, and now for recollection. Miss H. Did you call, sir? Did your honour call? Mar. (Musing.) As for Miss Hardcastle, she's too grave and sentimental for me. Miss H. Did your honour call? Mar. No, no. (Musing.) I have pleased my father, however, by coming down, and I'll tomorrow please myself by returning. (Taking out his tablets and perusing.) Miss H. Perhaps the other gentleman called, sir. Miss H. I should be glad to know, sir. We have such a parcel of servants. Mar. No, no, I tell you. (Looks full in her face.) Yes, child, I think I did call. I wanted-I wanted I vow, child, you are vastly handsome. Miss H. O la, sir! you'll make one ashamed. Mar. Never saw a more sprightly, malicious eye. Yes, yes, my dear, I did call. Have you got any of your-a-what d'ye call it, in the house? Miss H. No, sir, we have been out of that these ten days. Mar. One may call in this house, I find, to very little purpose. Suppose I should call for a taste, . just by the way of trial, of the nectar of your lips, perhaps I might be disappointed in that too. Miss H. Nectar! nectar! that's a liquor there's no call for in these parts. French, I suppose. We keep no French wines here, sir. Mar. Of true English growth, I assure you. Miss H. Then it's odd I should not know it. We brew all sorts of wines in this house, and I have lived here these eighteen years. Mar. Eighteen years! Why, one would think, child, you kept the bar before you were born. How old are you? Miss H. O! sir! 1 must not tell my age. They say women and music should never be dated. Mar. To guess at this distance, you can't be much above forty. (Approaching.) Yet nearer I don't think so much. (Approaching.) By coming close to some women they look younger still: but when we come very close indeed-(Attempting to kiss her.) Miss H. Pray, sir, keep your distance. One would think you wanted to know one's age, as they do horses, by mark of mouth. Mar. I protest, child, you use me extremely ill. If you keep me at this distance, how is it possible you and I can ever be acquainted? Miss H. And who wants to be acquainted with you? I want no such acquaintance, not I. I'm sure you did not treat Miss Hardcastle that was here a while ago in this obstropolous manner. I'll warrant me, before her you look dash'd, and kept bowing to the ground, and talk'd, for all the world, as if you was before a justice of the peace. Mar. Egad! she has hit it sure enough. (Aside.) In awe of her child? ha, ha, ha! A mere awkward, squinting thing. No, no; I find you don't know me. I laughed and rallied her a little; but I was unwilling to be too severe. No, I could not be too severe, curse me! [among the ladies? Mis H. O! then, sir, you are a favourite, I find, Mar. Yes, my dear, a great favourite. And yet, hang me, I don't see what they see in me to follow. At the ladies' club in town, I'm called their agreeable Rattle. Rattle, child, is not my real name, but one I'm known by. My name is Solomons. Mr. Solomons, my dear, at your service. (Offering to salute her.) Miss H. Hold, sir! you were introducing me to your club, not to yourself. And you're so great a favourite there, you say? Mar. Yes, my dear. There's Mrs, Mantrap, Lady Betty Blackleg, the Countess of Sligo, Mrs. Longhorns, old Miss Biddy Buckshin, and your humble servant, keep up the spirit of the place. Miss. H. Then it's a very merry place, I suppose? Mar. Yes; as merry as cards, supper, wine, and old women can make us. Miss H. And their agreeable Rattle! ha, ha, ha! Mar. Egad! I don't quite like this chit. She looks knowing, methinks. (Aside.) You laugh, child. Miss H. I can't but laugh to think what time they all have for minding their work or their family. Mar. All's well; she don't laugh at me. (Aside.) Do you ever work, child? Miss H. Ay, sure. There's not a screen or a quilt in the whole house but can bear witness to that. Mar. Odso! then you must shew me your embroidery. I embroider and draw patterns myself a little. If you want a judge of your work, you must apply to me. (Seizing her hand.) Miss H. Ay, but the colours don't look well by candlelight. You shall see all in the morning. Mar. And why not now, my angel? Such beauty fires beyond the power of resistance.-Psha! the father here! My old luck! I never nicked seven, that I did not throw ames the aces three times following. [Exit. Enter HARDCASTLE, who stands in surprise. Hard. So, madam! so, I find this is your modest lover; this is your humble admirer, that keeps his eyes fixed on the ground, and only adored at humble distance.-Kate, Kate, art thou not ashamed to deceive your father so. Miss H. Never trust me, my dear papa, but he's still the modest man I first took him for; you'll be convinced of it as well as I. Hard. By the hand of my body, I believe his impudence is infectious! Didn't I see him seize your hand? Didn't I see him haul you about like a milk-maid? and now you talk of his respect and his modesty, forsooth! Miss H. But if I shortly convince you of his modesty, that he has only the faults that will pass off with time, and the virtues that will improve with age, I hope you'll forgive him. Hard. The girl would actually make one run mad. I tell you I'll not be convinced. I am convinced. He has scarcely been three hours in the house, and he has already encroached on all my prerogatives. You may like his impudence, and call it modesty; but my son-in-law, madam, must have very different qualifications. Miss H. Sir, I ask but this night to convince you. Hard. You shall not have half the time; for I have thoughts of turning him out this very hour. Miss H. Give me that hour, then, and I hope to satisfy you. Hard. Well, an hour let it be then. But I'll have no trifling with your father: all fair and open, do you mind me? Exeunt. ACT IV. SCENE I.-An old-fashioned House. Enter MARLOW, followed by a Servant. Mar. I wonder what Hastings could mean by sending me so valuable a thing as a casket to keep for him, when he knows the only place I have is the seat of a post-coach at an inn-door. Have you deposited the casket with the landlady, as I ordered you? Have you put it into her own hands? Serv. Yes your honour. Mar. She said she'd keep it safe, did she? Serv. Yes, she said she'd keep it safe enough; she asked me how I came by it; and she said she had a great mind to make me give an account of myself. [Exit. Mar. Ha! ha! ha! they're safe, however. What an unaccountable set of beings have we got amongst. This little bar-maid, though, runs in my head most strangely, and drives out the absurdities of all the rest of the family. She's mine; she must be mine, or I'm greatly mistaken. Enter HASTINGS. Hast. Bless me! I quite forgot to tell her that I intended to repair to the bottom of the garden. Harlow, here, and in spirits too. Mar. Give me joy, George! Crown me, shadow me with laurels! Well, George, after all, we modest fellows don't want for success among the women. Hast. Some women, you mean. But what success has your honour's modesty been crown'd with now, that it grows so insolent upon us? Mar. Didn't you see the tempting, brisk, lovely, little thing that runs about the house, with a bunch of keys to her girdle. Hast. Well, and what then? Mar. She's mine, you rogue, you. Such fire, such motion, such eyes, such lips-but, egad! she would not let me kiss them though. Hast. But are you so sure, so very sure of her? Mar. Why, man, she talk'd of shewing me her work above stairs, and I'm to improve the pattern. Hast. But how can you, Charles, go about to rob a woman of her honour? Mar. Psha! psha! we all know the honour of the barmaid of an inn. I don't intend to rob her, take my word for it; there's nothing in this house I shan't honestly pay for. Hast. I believe the girl has virtue. Mar. And if she has, I should be the last man Mar. Yes, yes, it's safe enough; I have taken care of it. But how could you think the seat of a post-coach at an inn-door a place of safety? Ah, humskull! I have taken better precautions for you than you did for yourself—I have Hast. What? Mar. They had, I assure you; you shall hear from oue of themselves. [Enter Servant, drunk.] You, Jeremy! come forward, sirrah. What were my orders? Were you not told to drink freely, and call for what you thought fit, for the good of the house? Hard. I begin to lose my patience. (Aside.) Jer. Please your honour, liberty and Fleet-street for ever! Though I'm but a servant, I'm as good as another man; l'll drink for no man before supper, sir, d-e! Good liquor will sit upon a good supper, but a good supper will not sit uponhiccup-upon my conscience, sir... [Exit. Mar. You see, my old friend, the fellow's as drunk as he possibly can be. I don't know what you'd have more, unless you'd have the poor devil soused in a beer-barrel. Hard. Zounds! he'll drive me distracted if I contain myself any longer. (Aside.) Mr. Marlow, Mar. I have sent it to the landlady to keep for you. sir, I have submitted to your insolence for more Hast. To the landlady? Mar. The landlady. [coming you know. Mar. I did. She's to be answerable for its forthHast. Yes; she'll bring it forth with a witness. Mar. Wasn't I right? I believe you'll allow that I acted prudently upon this occasion. Hast. He must not see my uneasiness. (Aside.) Mar. You seem a little disconcerted, though, methinks. Sure, nothing has happened? Hast. No, nothing. Never was in better spirits in all my life. And so you left it with the landady? who, no doubt, very readily undertook the charge. Mar. Rather too readily; for she not only kept the casket, but, through her great precaution, was going to keep the messenger too. Ha, ha, ha! Hast. He, he, he! They are safe, however. Hast. So, now all hopes of fortune are at an end, and we must set off without it. (Aside.) Well, Charles, I'll leave you to your meditations on the pretty barmaid; and, he, he, he may you be as successful for yourself as you have been for me. Mar. Thank ye, George; I ask no more. ha, ha! [Exit. Enter HARDCASTLE. Hard. I no longer know my own house. It's turned all topsy-turvy. His servants have got drunk already. I'll bear it no longer; and yet for my respect for his father, I'll be calm. (Aside.) Mr. Marlow, your servant. I'm your very humble servant. (Bowing low.) Mar. Sir, your humble servant-What's to be the wonder now? (Aside.) Hard. I believe, sir, you must be sensible, sir, that no man alive ought to be more welcome than your father's son, sir. I hope you think so. Mar. I do, from my soul, sir, I don't want much entreaty. I generally make my father's son welcome wherever he goes. Hard. I believe you do, from my soul, sir. But though I say nothing to your own conduct, that of your servants is insufferable; their manner of drinking is setting a very bad example in this house, I assure you. Mar. I protest, my very good sir, that's no fault c mine. If they don't drink as they ought, they are to blame. I ordered them not to spare the cellar; I did, I assure you. Here, let one of my servants come up. My positive directions were, that as I did not drink myself, they should make up for my deficiencies below. [do? Hard. Then they had your orders for what they than four hours, and I see no likelihood of its coming to an end. I'm now resolved to be master here, sir; and 1 desire that you and your drunken pack may leave my house directly. Mar. Leave your house?-Sure you jest, my good friend. What, when I'm doing what I can to please you? Hard. I tell you, sir, you don't please me; so I desire you'll leave my house. Mar. Sure you cannot be serious. At this time o'night, and such a night? You only mean to banter me. Hard. I tell you, sir, I'm serious; and, now that my passions are roused, I say this house is mine, sir; this house is mine, and I command you to leave it directly. Mar. Ha, ha, ha! A puddle in a storm. I shan't stir a step, I assure you. (In a serious tone.) This your house, fellow; it's my house; this is my house; mine, while I choose to stay! What right have you to bid me leave this house, sir? I never mot with such impudence, curse me, never in my whole life before. Hard. Nor I, confound me if ever I did. To come to my house, to call for what he likes, to turn me out of my own chair, to insult the family, to order his servants to get drunk, and then to tell me, this house is mine, sir. By all that's impudent, it makes me laugh. Ha, ha, ha! Pray, sir, (bantering.) as you take the house, what think you of taking the rest of the furniture? There's a pair of silver candlesticks, and there's a fire-screen, and a pair of bellows, perhaps you may take a fancy to them? Mar. Bring me your bill, sir, bring me your bill, and let's make no more words about it Hard. There is a set of prints too. What think you of the Rake's Progress for your own apartment? Mar. Bring me your bill, I say; and I'll leave you and your infernal house directly. Hard. Then there's a bright, brazen warmingpan, that you may see your own brazen face in. Mar. My bill, I say. Hard. I had forgot the great chair, for your own particular slumbers, after a hearty meal. Mar. Zounds! bring me my bill, I say, and let's hear no more on't. Hard. Young man, young man, from your father's letter to me, I was taught to expect a well-bred, modest man, as a visitor here; but now I find him no better than a coxcomb and a bully; but he will be down here presently, and shall hear more of it. [Exit. Mar. How's this? Sure I have not mistaken the house! Everything looks like an inn: the servants Miss H. I never knew half his merit till now. He cry coming! the attendance is awkward; the bar-shall not go, if I have power or art to detain him. maid too to attend us. But she's here, and will I'll still perservo the character in which I stooped further inform me. Whither so fast, child? a word to conquer, but I will undeceive my papa, who perwith you. haps may laugh him out of his resolution. [Exit. Enter MISS HARDCASTLE. Enter TONY and MISS NEVILLE. Miss H. Let it be short, then; I'm in a hurry. I Tony. Ay, you may steal for yourselves the next believe he begins to find out his mistake, but it's time; I have done my duty. She has got the jewels too soon quite to undeceive him. (Aside.) again, that's a sure thing; but she believes it was all a mistake of the servants. Mar. Pray, child, answer me one question. What are you, and what may your business in this house be? Miss H. A relation of the family, sir. Miss H. Yes, sir; a poor relation, appointed to keep the keys, and to see that the guests want nothing in my power to give them. Mar. That is, you act as the barmaid of this inn. Miss H. Inn! O la!-what brought that into your head? One of the best families in the county keep an inn! Ha! ha! ha! old Mr. Hardcastle's house an inn. Mar. Mr. Hardcastle's house! Is this house Mr. Hardcastle's house, child? -y Miss H. Ay, sir, whose else should it be? Mar. So then, all's out, and I have been dimposed on. Oh, confound my stupid head! I shall be laughed at over the whole town. I shall be stuck up in caricatura, in all the print-shops. The Dullissimo Macaroni. To mistake this house, of all others, for an inn, and my father's old friend for an inn-keeper. What a swaggering puppy must he take me for! what a silly puppy do I find myself! There again, may I be hanged, my dear, but I mistook you for the bar-maid. Miss H. Dear me! dear me! I'm sure there's nothing in my behaviour to put me upon a level with one of that stamp. Mar. 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 all over-this house I no more shew my face in. Miss H. 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. Mar By heaven, she weeps! This is the first mark of tenderness I ever had from a modest woman, and it touches me. (Aside.) Miss H. I'm sure my family is as good as Miss 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. Mar. And why now, my pretty simplicity? Miss II. Because it puts me at a distance from one that if I had a thousand pounds I would give it all to. Mar This simplicity bewitches me, so that if I stay I am undone. I must make one bold effort, and leave her. (Aside.) 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, makes an honourable connexion impossible; and I can never harbour a thought of seducing simplicity that trusted in my honour; or of bringing ruin upon one, whose only fault was being too lovely. [Exit. Miss N. But, my dear cousin, sure you won't forsake us in this distress. If she in the least suspeets that I am 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 d-d 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. H. Well, I was greatly fluttered, to be sure; but my son tells me it was all a mistake of the servants. 1 sha'n'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 am alive. I never saw Tony so sprightly before. Ha! have I caught you my pretty doves. What, billing, exchanging stolen glances, and broken murmurs. Ha. Tony. As for murmurs, mother, we grumble a little now and then, to be sure; but there's no love lost between us. Mrs. H. A mere sprinkling, Tony, upon the flame, only to make it burn brighter. Miss N. Cousin Tony promises to give us more of his company at home; indeed, he sha'n'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 pond, than leave you when you smile upon one so. Your laugh makes you so becoming. Miss N. Agreeable cousin, who can help admiring that natural humour, that pleasant, broad, red, thoughtless-(Patting his cheek.)-Ha; it's a Mrs. H. Pretty innocence. [bold face. Tony. I'm sure I always lov'd cousin Con.'s hazel eyes, and her pretty long fingers, that she twists this way and that over the harpsicholls, like a parcel of bobbins. Mrs. H. Ah! he would charm the bird from the tree. I never was so happy before. My boy takes after his father, poor Mr. Lumpkin exactly. The jewels, my dear Con. shall be yours incontinently. You shall have them. Isn't he a sweet boy, my dear? You shall be married to-morrow, and we'll put off the rest of his education, like Dr. Drowsy's sermons, to a fitter opportunity. Enter DIGGORY. Dig. Where's the 'squire? I have got a letter for your worship. [letters first. Tony. Give it to my mamma. She reads all my Dig. I had orders to deliver it into your own Tony. Who does it come from from? [hands. Dig. Your worship mun ask that o'the letter itself. Tony. I could wish to know though. (Turning the letter, and gazing on it.) Miss N. (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.)-Bu Miss N. What better could be expected from being connected with such a stupid fool, and after all the nods and signs I made him? Tony. By the laws! miss, it was your own clever I have not told you, madam, of my cousin's smart answer just now to Mr. Marlow. We so laugh'd. You must know, madam-this way a little, for he must not hear us. (They confer.) Tony. (Still gazing.) A d-d cramp piece of pen-ness, and not my stupidity, that did your business. manship as ever I saw in my life. I can read You were so nice and so busy with your Shakebags your print hand very well: but here they're such and Goose-greens, that I thought you could never handles, and shanks, and dashes, that one can be making believe. scarce tell the head from the tail. To Anthony Enter HASTINGS. Lumpkin, Esq.-It's very odd, I can read the out- Hast. So, sir, I find, by my servant, that you side of my letters, where my own name is, well have shewn my letter, and betrayed us. Was this enough; but when I come to open it, it is all well done, young gentleman? buzz. That's hard, very hard; for the inside of the letter is always the cream of the correspondence. Mrs. H. Ha, ha, ha! Very well, very well. And so my son was too hard for the philosopher? Miss N. 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. H. He seems strangely puzzled now himself, methinks. Tony. (Still gazing.) A d-d up and down hand, as if disguised in liquor.-(Reading.)—Dear sir, Ay, that's that. Then there's an M, and a Tand an S; but whether the next be an izzard or an R, confound me! I cannot tell. [any assistance? Mrs. H. What's that, my dear? Can I give you Miss N. Pray, aunt, let me read it No body reads a cramp hand better than I.-Twitching the letter from her.)-Do you know who it is from? [feeder. Tony. Can't tell, except from Dick Ginger, the Miss N. Ay, so it is. (Pretending to read.)Dear 'squire, hoping that you're in health, as I am at present. The gentleman of the Shake-bag club has cut the gentleman of the Goose-green quite out of feather. The odds-um-odd battle-um-long fighting -um-here, here; it's all about cocks, and fighting; it's of no consequence; here, put it up, put it up. (Thrusting the crumpled letter upon him.) Tony. But I tell you, miss, it's of all the consequence in the world; I would not lose the rest of it for a guinea. Here, mother, do you make it out. Of no consequence! (Giving Mrs. H. the letter.) Tony. Here's another! Ask miss there who betrayed you. Ecod! it was her own doing, not mine. Enter MARLOW. Mar. So, I have been finely used here among you. Rendered contemptible, driven into ill-manners, despised, insulted, laughed at. Tony. Here's another! We shall have old Bedlam broke loose presently. Miss N. And there, sir, is the gentleman to whom we all owe every obligation. Mar. What can I say to him, a mere boy, an idiot, whose ignorance and youth are a protection? Hast. A poor contemptible booby, that would but disgrace correction. Miss N. Yet, with cunning and malice enough to make himself merry with all our embarrassments. Hast. An insensible cub! Mar. Replete with tricks and mishief. Tony. Baw! (Starts up.) D-e! but I'll fight you both, one after the other-with baskets. But Mar. As for him, he's below resentment. your conduct, Mr. Hastings, requires an explanation. You knew of my mistakes, yet would not undeceive me. Hast. Tortured as I am with my own disappointments, is this a time for explanations? It is n.t friendly, Mr. Marlow. Mas. But, sir Miss N. Mr. Marlow, we never kept on your mistake till it was too late to undeceive you. Be pacified. Enter DIGGORY. We are [Exit. your hat and things are in the next room. Mrs. H. How's this? (Reads.)—“ Dear 'Squire, Dig. My mistress desires you'll get ready im-I am now waiting for Miss Neville, with a post-mediately, madam. The horses are putting to; chaise and pair, at the bottom of the garden; but I find my horses yet unable to perform their journey. I expect you'll assist us with a pair of fresh horses, as you promised. Despatch is necessary, as the hag, (ay, the hag,) your mother, will otherwise suspect us. Yours HASTINGS." Grant me patience! I shall run distracted! My rage chokes me. Miss N. I hope you'll suspend your resentment for a few moments, and not impute to me any impertinence, or sinister design that belongs to another. Mrs. H. (Curtseying very low.) Fine spoken madam, you are most miraculously polite and engaging, and quite the very pink of courtesy and circumspection, madam. (Changing her tone.) And you, you great ill-fashioned oaf, with scarce sense enough to keep your mouth shut, were you, too, joined against me? But I'll defeat all your plots in a moment. As for you, madam, since you have got a pair of fresh horses ready, it would be cruel to disappoint them. So, if you please, instead of running away with your spark, prepare, this very moment, to run off with me. Your old aunt Pedigree, will keep you secure, I'll warrant me. You, too, sir, may mount your horse, and guard us upon the way. Here, Thomas, Roger, Diggory! I'll shew you that I wish you better than you do yourself. Miss N. So, now I'm completely ruined. [Exit. Mrs. H. (Within) Miss Neville! Constance! why, Constance, I say! [Exit. Miss N. I'm coming. Well, constancy; remember, constancy is the word. Hast. My heart, how can I support this? To be so near happiness, and such happiness! Mar. (To Tony.) You see now, young gentleman, the effects of your folly. What might be amuse ment to you, is here disappointment, and even distress. Tony. (From a reverie.) Ecod! I have hit it; it's here. Your hands; and yours, and yours, my poor Sulky. Meet me, two hours hence, at the bottom of the garden; and if you don't find Tony Lumpkin, a more good-natured fellow than you thought for, I'll give you leave to take my best horse, and Bet Bouncer into the bargain. Come along. [Exeunt. ACT V.-SCENE I.-An old-fashioned House. Enter SIR CHARLES MARLOW and HARD CASTLE. Hard. Ha, ha, ha! The peremptory tone in which he sent forth his sublime commands. |