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.) 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 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 your print hand very well: but here they're 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 allbuzz. 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. Theodds-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.) Mrs. H. How's this? (Reads.)-" Dear 'Squire, -I am now waiting for Miss Neville, with a postchaise 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. HASTINGS." Yours 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 notimpute to me any impertinence, or sinister design that belongs to another. Mrs. H. (Curtseying very low.) Fine spoken ma- Miss N. So, now I'm completely ruined. You were so nice and so busy with your Shakebags and Goose-greens, that I thought you could never be making believe. Enter HASTINGS. Hast. So, sir, I find, by my servant, that you have shewn my letter, and betrayed us. well done, young gentleman? Was this 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. Mar. As for him, he's below resentment. But 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 pacifled. Enter DIGGORY. Dig. My mistress desires you'll get ready immediately, madam, The horses are putting to; your hat and things are in the next room. We are [Exit. to go thirty miles before morning. Miss N. I come. Oh! Mr. Marlow, if you knew what a scene of constraint and ill-nature lies before me, I'm sure it would convert your resentment into pity. Mrs. H. (Within) Miss Neville! Constance! why, Constance, I say! Miss N. I'm coming. Well, constancy; remember, constancy is the word. [Exit. 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 amusement 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 be sent forth his sublime commands. Sir C. And the reserve with which I suppose. he treated all your advances. Hard. And yet, he might have seen something in me above a common innkeeper, too. Sir C. Yes, Dick, but he mistook you for an uncommon innkeeper. Ha, ha, ha! Hard. Well, I'm in too good spirits to think of anything but joy. Yes, my dear friend, this union of our families will make our personal friendships hereditary; and though my daughter's fortune is but small Sir C. Why, Dick, will you talk of fortune to me? My son is possessed of more than a competence already, and can want nothing but a good and virtuous girl to share his happiness, and increase it. If they like each other, as you say they do Hard. If, man! I tell you, they do like each other; my daughter as good as told me so. Sir C. But girls are apt to flatter themselves, you know. Hurd. I saw him grasp her hand in the warmest manner myself; and here he comes to put you out of your ifs, I warrant him. Enter MARLOW. Mar. I come, sir, once more to ask pardon for my strange conduct. I can scarce reflect on my insolence without confusion. Hard. Tut! boy, a trifle; you take it too gravely. An hour or two's laughing with my daughter will set all to rights again. She'll never like you the worse for it. [bation. Mar. Sir, I shall be always proud of her approHard. Approbation is but a cold word, Mr. Marlow; if I am not deceived, you have something more than approbation thereabouts. You take me? Mar. Really, sir, I have not that happiness. Hard. Come, boy, I'm an old fellow, and know what's what, as well as you that are younger. I. know what has passed between you; but, mum. Mar. Sure, sir, nothing has passed between us but the most profound respect on my side, and the most distant reserve on hers. You don't think, sir, that my impudence has been passed upon all the rest of the family. Hard. Impudence! No, I don't say that-nos quite impudence. Girls like to be played with, and rumpled too, sometimes. But she has told no tales, I assure you. Hard. Here comes my daughter, and I would stake my happiness upon her veracity. Enter MISS HARDCASTLE. Kate, come hither, child. Answer us sincerely, and without reserve. Has Mr. Marlow made you any professions of love and affection? Miss H. The question is very abrupt, sir; but since you require unreserved sincerity, I think he has. Hard. (To Sir C.) You see. Sir C. And pray, madam, have you and my son had more than one interview? Sir C. But did he profess any attachment? Miss H. A lasting one. Sir C. Did he talk of love? Miss H. Much, sir? Sir C. Amazing! and all this formally? Hard. Now, my friend, I hope you are satisfied. Miss H. As most professed admirers do. Said some civil things of my face, talked much of his want of merit, and the greatness of mine; mentioned his heart, gave a short tragedy speech, and ended with pretended rapture. Sir C. Now I'm perfectly convinced; indeed, I know his conversation among women to be modest and submissive. This forward, canting, ranting manner, by no means describes him, and I'm confident he never sat for the picture. Miss H. Then, what, sir, if I should convince you to your face of my sincerity? If you and my papa, in about half-an-hour, will place yourselves behind that screen, you shall hear him declare his passion to me in person. Sir C. Agreed; and if I find him what you decribe, all my happiness in him must have an end. [Exit with Hard. Miss H. And if you don't find him what I describe, I fear my happiness must never have a beginning. SCENE II-The Back of the Garden. Enter HASTINGS. Hast. What an idiot am I, to wait here for a fellow, who probably takes a delight in mortifying me. He never intended to be punctual, and I'll wait no longer. What do I see? It is he, and per Mar. May I die, sir, if I ever- I'm sure you like her Mar. Dear, sir, I protest, sir Hard. I see no reason why you should not be joined as fast as the parson can tie you. Mar. But why won't you hear me? By all that's just and true, I never gave Miss Hardcastle the slightest mark of my attachment, or even the most distant hint to suspect me of affection. We had but one interview, and that was formal, modest, and uninteresting. Hard. This fellow's formal, modest impudence is beyond bearing. (Aside.) Sir C. And you never grasped her hand, or made any protestations. Mar. As heaven is my witness, I came down in obedience to your commands. I saw the lady without emotion, and parted without reluctance. I hope you'll exact no further proofs of my duty, nor prevent me from leaving a house in which I suffer so many mortifications. [Exit. Sir C. I'm astonished at the air of sincerity with which he parted. Hard. And I'm astonished at the deliberate intrepidity of his assurance. [truth. Sir C. I dare pledge my life and honour upon his Enter TONY, booted, &c. My honest 'squire! I now find you a man of your word. This looks like friendship. Tony. Ay, I'm your friend, and the best friend you have in the world, if you knew but all. This riding by night, by-the-by, is cursedly tiresome. It has shook me worse than the basket of a stage coach. Hast. But how? where did you leave your fellowtravellers? Are they in safety? Are they housed? Tony. Five-and-twenty miles in two hours and a half is no such bad driving. The poor beasts have smoked for it. Rabbit me! but I'd rather ride forty miles after a fox, than ten with such varment. Ilast. Well, but where have you left the ladies? I die with impatience. Tony. Left them! why, where should I leave them, but where I found them? Hast. This is a riddle. within five miles of the place, but they can tell the taste of. Hast. Ha, ha, ha! I understand; you took them in a round, while they thought themselves going forward. And so you have at last brought them home again! Tony. You shall hear. I first took them down Feather-bed-lane, where we stuck fast in the mud. I then rattled them crack over the stones, up-anddown hill. I then introduced them to the gibbet on Heavy-tree-heath; and from that, with a circumbendibus, I fairly lodged them in the horse-pond at the bottom of the garden. Hast. But no accident, I hope? Tony. No, no; only mother is confoundedly frightened. She thinks herself forty miles off. She's sick of the journey, and the cattle can scarce scrawl. So if your horses be ready, you may whip off with cousin, and I'll be bound that no soul here can budge a foot to follow you. Hast. My dear friend, how can I be grateful? Tony. Ay, now it's dear friend, noble 'squire. Just now it was all idiot, cub, and run me through the guts. D-n your way of fighting, I say! After we take a knock, in this part of the country, we shake hands and be friends. But if you had run me through the guts, then I should be dead, and you might shake hands with the hangman. Hast. The rebuke is just. But I must hasten to relieve Miss Neville; if you keep the old lady employed, I promise to take care of the young one. [Exit. Tony. Never fear me. Here she comes. Vanish! She's got into the pond, and is draggled up to the waist like a mermaid. Enter MRS. HARDCASTLE. Mrs. H. Oh! Tony, I'm killed! shook! battered to death! I shall never survive it. The last jolt against the quick-set hedge has done my business. Tony. Alack! mamma, it was all your own fault. You would be for running away by night, without knowing one inch of the way. Mrs. H. I wish we were at home again. I never met so many accidents it so short a journey. Drench'd in the mud, overturned in a ditch, stuck fast in a slough, jolted to a jelly, and at last to lose our way! Whereabouts do you think we are, Tony? Tony. By my guess, we should be upon Crackskull common, about forty miles from home. Mrs. H. Oh, lud! oh, lud! the most notorious spot in all the country. We only want a robbery to make a complete night on't. Tony. Don't be afraid, mamma, don't be afraid. Two of the five that kept here are hanged, and the other three may not find us. Don't be afraid. Is that a man gallopping behind us? No; it's only a tree. Don't be afraid. Mrs. H. The fright will certainly kill me. Tony. Do you see anything like a black hat moving behind the thicket? Mrs. H. Oh, death! [ma; don't be afraid. Tony. No, it's only a cow. Don't be afraid, mamMrs. H. As I'm alive, Tony, I see a man coming towards us. Ah! I'm sure on't. If he perceives us, we are undone. Tony. Father-in-law, by all that's unlucky! come to take one of his night-walks. (Aside.) Ah! it's a highwayman with pistols as long as my arm. A d-d ill-looking fellow! Mrs. H. Good heaven defend us! he approaches. Tony. Do you hide yourself in that thicket, and leave me to manage him. If there be any danger I'll cough and cry hem. When I cough be sure to keep close. (Mrs. H. hides behind a tree in the back scene.) Enter HARDCASTLE. Hard. I'm mistaken, or I heard voices of people in want of help. Oh! Tony, is that you? I did not expect you so soon back. Are your mother and her charge in safety? Tony. Very safe, sir, at my aunt Pedigree s. Hem Mrs. H. (From behind.). Ah, death! I find there's danger. Hard. Forty miles in three hours! sure, that's too much, my youngster. Tony. Stout horses and willing minds make short journeys as they say. Hem! [boy no harm. Mrs. H. (From behind.) Sure, he'll do the dear Hard. But I heard a voice here; I should be glad to know from whence it came. Tony. It was I, sir, talking to myself, sir. I was saying, that forty miles in three hours was very good going. Hem! As to be sure it was. Hem I have got a sort of cold by being out in the air. We'll go in, if your please. Hem! Hard. But if you talked to yourself, you did not answer yourself. I am certain I heard two voices, and am resolved (raising his voice) to find the other out. Mrs. H. (Rushing forward.) Oh, lud; he'll murder my poor boy-my darling. Here, good gentleman, whet your rage upon me. Take my moneymy life, but spare that young gentleman; spare my child, if you have any mercy. Hard. My wife, as I'm a Christian! From whence can she come? or what does she mean? Mrs. H. (Kneeling.) Take compassion on us, good Mr. Highwayman. Take our money, our watches -all we have, but spare our lives. We will never bring you to justice; indeed, we won't, good Mr. Highwayman. Hard. I believe the woman's out of her senses, What, Dorothy, don't you know me? Mrs. H. Mr. Hardcastle, as I'm alive! My fears blinded me. But who, my dear, could have expected to meet you here, in this frightful place, so far from home? What has brought you to follow us? Hard. Sure, Dorothy, you have not lost your wits. So far from home, when you are within forty yards of your own door. (To Tony.) This is one of your old tricks, you graceless rogue, you! (To Mrs. H.) Don't you know the gate, and the mulberry-tree? and don't you remember the horse-pond, my dear? Mrs. H. Yes, I shall remember the horse-pond as long as I live; I have caught my death in it. (To Tony.) And is it to you, you graceless varlet, I owe all this? I'll teach you to abuse your mother, I will. Tony. Ecod! mother, all the parish say you have spoiled me, and so you may take the fruits on't. Mrs. H. I'll spoil you, I will. (Beats him off.) Hard. Ha, ha, ha! [Exit. SCENE III-A Parlour. Enter SIR CHARLES MARLOW, and MISS HARDCASTLE. Sir C. What a situation am I in! If what you say appears, I shall then find a guilty son. If what he says be true, I shall then lose one that, of all others, I most wished for a daughter. Miss H. I am proud of your approbation, and to shew I merit it, if you place yourselves as I directed, you shall hear his explicit declaration. But he comes. Sir C. I'll to your father, and keep him to the appointment. [Exit. Enter MARLOW. Mar. Though prepared for setting out, I come once more to take leave; nor did I till this mo ment, know the pain I feel in the separation. Miss H. (In her own natural manner.) I believe these sufferings cannot be very great, sir, which you can so easily remove. A day or two longer, perhaps, might lessen your uneasiness, by shewing the little value of what you now think proper to regret. Mar. This girl every moment improves upon me. (Aside.) It must not be, madam. I have already trifled too long with my heart, and nothing can restore me to myself, but this painful effort of resolution. Miss H. Then go, sir; I'll urge nothing more to detain you. Though my family be as good as hers you came down to visit, and my education, I hope, not inferior, what are these advantages without equal affluence? I must remain contented with the slight approbation of imputed merit; I must have only the mockery of your addresses, while all your serious aims are fixed on fortune. Enter HARDCASTLE and SIR CHARLES MAR LOW from behind. Mar. By heaven, madam, fortune was ever my smallest consideration. Your beauty first caught my eye; for who could see that without emotion? But every moment that I converse with you, steals in some new grace, heightens the picture, and gives it stronger expression. What, at first, seemed rustic plainness, now appears refined simplicity. What seemed forward assurance, now strikes me as the result of courageous innocence, and conscious virtue. I'm now determined to stay, madam, and I have too good an opinion of my father's discernment, when he sees you, to deny his approbation. Miss H. Sir, I must entreat you'll desist. As our acquaintance began, so let it end, in indifference. I might have given an hour or two to levity, but, seriously, Mr. Marlow, do you think I could ever submit to a connexion where I must appear mercenary, and you imprudent? Do you think I could ever catch at the confident address of a secure admirer? Mar. (Kneeling.) Does this look like security? Doos this look like confidence? No, madam; every moment that shews your merit, only serves to increase my diffidence and confusion. Here let me continue Sir C. I can hold it no longer. (Coming forward.) Charles, Charles, how hast thou deceived me! Is this your indifference-your uninteresting conversation? Hard. Your cold contempt-your formal interview? What have you to say now? Mar. That I'm all amazement! What can it mean? Hard. It means that you can say and unsay things at pleasure; that you can address a lady in private, and deny it in public; that you have one story for us, and another for my daughter. Mar. Daughter! this lady your daughter? Hard. Yes, sir; my only daughter-my Kate. Whose else should she be? Mar. Oh! the devil! Miss H. Yes, sir; that very identical tall, squinting lady you were pleased to take me for. (Curtseying.) She that you addressed as the mild, modest, sentimental man of gravity; and the bold, forward, agreeable Rattle of the ladies' club. Ha, ha, ha! Mar. Zounds! there's no bearing this. Miss H. In which of your characters, sir, will you give use leave to address you? As the faltering gentleman, with looks on the ground, that speaks just to be heard, and hates hyprocrisy; or the loud, confident creature, that keeps it up with Mrs. Mantrap, and old Miss Biddy Buckskin, till three in the morning. Ha, ha, ha! tempted to be impudent yet, that I was not taken down. I must be gone. Hard. By the hand of my body, but you shall not. I see it was all a mistake, and I am rejoiced to find it. You shall not, sir, I tell you. I know she'll forgive you. Won't you forgive him, Kate? We'll all forgive you. Take courage, man. (They retire, she tormenting him, to the back scene.) Enter MRS. HARDCASTLE and TONY. Mrs. H. My autiful niece and her gentleman, Mr. Hastings, from town; he who came down with our modest visitor here. Sir C. Who, my honest George Hastings? As worthy a fellow as lives, and the girl could not have made a more prudent choice. [of the connexion. Hard. Then, by the hand of my body, I'm proud Enter HASTINGS and MISS NEVILLE. Mrs. H. What, returned so soon! I begin not to like it. (Aside.) Hast. (To Hardcastle.) For my late attempt to fly off with your niece, let my present confusion be my punishment. We are now come back, to appeal from your justice to your humanity. By her father's consent I first paid her myaddresses, and our passions were first founded in duty. Miss N. Since his death, I have been obliged to stoop to dissimulation to avoid oppression. In an hour of levity. I was ready to give up my fortune to secure my choice. But I'm now recovered from the delusion, ata hope from your tenderness what is denied me from a nearer connexion. Hard. Be it what it will, I'm glad they're come back to reclaim their due. Come hither, Tony, boy. Do you refuse this lady's hand, which I now offer you? Tony. What signifles my refusing? You know I can't refuse her till I'm of age, father. Hard. While I thought concealing your age, boy, was likely to conduce to your improvement, I concurred with your mother's desire to keep it secret. But since I find she turns it to a wrong use, I must now declare you have been of age these three months. Tony. Of age! Am I of age, father? Tony. Then you'll see the first use I'll make of my liberty. (Taking Miss Neville's hand.) Witness all men by these presents, that I, Anthony Lumpkin, esquire, of Blank-place, refuse you, Constantia Neville, spinster, of no place at all, for my true and lawful wife. So Constantia Neville may marry whom she pleases, and Tony Lumpkin is his own man again. Sir C. Ol brave 'squire! T Mrs. H. My undutiful offspring. (Beats Tony off.) Mar. Joy, my dear George; I give you joy sincerely; and, could I prevail upon my little tyrant here to be less arbitrary, I should be the happiest man alive, if you would return me the favour. Hast. (To Miss Hardcastle.) Come, madam, you are now driven to the very last scene of all your contrivances. I know you like him, I'm sure he loves you, and you must and shall have him. Hard. (Joining their hands.) And I say so, too. And, Mr. Marlow, if she makes as good a wife as she has a daughter, I don't believe you'll ever repent your bargain. So now to supper. To-morrow we shall gather all the poor of the parish about us, and the mistakes of the night shall be crowned with a merry morning; so, boy, take her; and, as you have been mistaken in the mistress, my wish is, that you [Exeun? Mrs H. Oh! curse on my noisy head! I never at-may never be mistaken in the wife. A TRAGEDY, IN FIVE ACTS. BY JOHN HOME. ACT I. Persons Represented. YOUNG NORVAL LADY RANDOLPH ANNA Oh! Douglas, Douglas! if departed ghosts But Randolph comes, whom fate has made my lord, |