impudent piece of brass that ever spoke with a tongue. He has taken possession of the easy chair by the fireside already. He took off his boots in the parlour, and desired me to see them taken care of. I'm desirous to know how his impudence affects my daughter she will certainly be shocked at it, Enter Miss HARDCASTLE, plainly dressed. Well, Kate, I see you have changed your dress as I bid you; and yet, I think, there was no great oc casion. Miss H. I find such a pleasure, sir, in obeying your commands, that I take care to observe them, without ever debating their propriety, for a man. Certainly, we don't meet many such at a horse-race in the country. Hard. If we should find him so-but that's impos. sible. The first appearance has done my business. I'm seldom deceived in that. Miss H. And yet, there may be many good qualities under that first appearance. But as one of us must be mistaken, what if we go to make further discoveries? Hard. Agreed. But depend on't, I'm in the right. Miss H. And depend on't, I'm not much in the wrong. [Exeunt. Enter TONY, running in with a casket.. Tony. Ecod, I have got them. Here they are. My cousin Con's necklaces, bobs and all. mother sha'n't cheat the poor souls out of their Miss H. You taught me to expect something ex-fortin, neither. O! my genius, is that you? traordinary, and I find the original exceeds the deEnter HASTINGS. scription. Hard. And yet, Kate, I sometimes give you some cause, particularly when I recommended my modest gentleman to you as a lover to-day. Hard. I was never so surprised in my life. He has quite confounded all my faculties. Miss H. I never saw anything like it; and a man of the world, too! Hard. Ay, he learned it all abroad. Miss H. It seems all natural to him. Hard. A good deal assisted by bad company, and a French dancing-master. Miss H. Sure, you mistake, papa! A French dancing-master could never have taught him that timid look, that awkward address, that bashful manner Hard. Whose look? whose manner, child? Miss H. Mr. Marlow's. His mauvaise honte, his timidity, struck me at first sight. Hard. Then your first sight deceived you; for I think him one of the most brazen first sights that ever astonished my senses. Miss H. Sure, sir, you rally! I never saw any one so modest. Hard. And can you be serious? I never saw such a bouncing, swaggering puppy since I was born. Bully Dawson was but a fool to him. Miss H. Surprising! He met me with a respectful bow, a stammering voice, and a look fixed on the ground. Hard. He met me with a loud voice, a lordly air, and a familiarity that made my blood freeze again. Miss H. He treated me with diffidence and respect; censured the manners of the age; admired the prudence of girls that never laughed; tired me with apologies for being tiresome; and then left the room with a bow, and, Madam, I would not for the world detain you.' Hard. He spoke to me as if he knew me all his life before asked twenty questions, and never waited for an answer;-interrupted my best remarks with some silly pun; and when I was in my best story of the Duke of Marlborough and Prince Eugene, he asked if I was not a good hand at making punch. Yes, Kate, he asked your father if he was a maker of punch! Miss H. One of us must certainly be mistaken. Hard. If he be what he has shewn himself, I'm determined he shall never have my consent. Miss H. And if he be the sullen thing I take him, he shall never have mine. Hard. In one thing, then, we are agreed-to reject him. Miss H. Yes, but upon conditions; for if you should find him less impudent, and I more presuming; if you find him more respectful, and I more importunate-I don't know-the fellow is well enough My Hast. My dear friend, how have you managed with your mother! I hope you have amused her with pretending love for your cousin, and that you are willing to be reconciled at last. Our horses will be refreshed in a short time, and we shall soon be ready to set off. Tony. And here's something to bear your charges by the way. [Giving the casket.] Your sweetheart's jewels. Keep them, and hang those, I say, that would rob you of one of them. Hast. But how have you procured them from your mother? Tony. Ask me no questions, and I'll tell you no fibs. I procured them by the rule of thumb. If I had not a key to every drawer in mother's bureau, how could I go to the alehouse so often as I do? An honest man may rob himself of his own at any time. Hast. Thousands do it every day. But, to be plain with you, Miss Neville is endeavouring to procure them from her aunt this very instant. If she suc ceeds, it will be the most delicate way, at least, of obtaining them. Tony. Well, keep them till you know how it will be. But I know how it will be well enough; she'd as soon part with the only sound tooth in her head. Hast. But I dread the effects of her resentment, when she finds she has lost them. Tony. Never you mind her resentment; leave me to manage that. I don't value her resentment the bounce of a cracker. Zounds! here they are. Morrice;-prance. [Exit HASTINGS. Enter Mrs. HARDCASTLE and Miss NEVille. Mrs. H. Indeed, Constance, you amaze me. Such a girl as you want jewels! It will be time enough for jewels, my dear, twenty years hence, when your beauty begins to want repairs. Miss N. But what will repair beauty at forty, will certainly improve it at twenty, madam. Mrs. H. Your's, my dear, can admit of none. That natural blush is beyond a thousand ornaments. Besides, child, jewels are quite out at present. Don't you see half the ladies of our acquaintance, my Lady Kill-day-light, and Mrs. Crump, and the rest of them, carry their jewels to town, and bring nothing but paste and marcasites back? Miss N. But who knows, madam, but somebody that shall be nameless, would like me best with all my finery about me? Mrs. H. Consult your glass, my dear, and then see if, with such a pair of eyes, you want any better sparklers. What do you think, Tony, my dear, does your cousin Con. want any jewels, in your eyes, to set off her beauty? Tony. That's as hereafter may be. Miss N. My dear aunt, if you knew how it would oblige me. Mrs. H. A parcel of old-fashioned rose and tablecut things. They would make you look like the court of King Solomon at a puppet-show. Besides, I believe I can't readily come at them. They may be missing, for aught I know to the contrary. Tony. Apart to Mrs. H.] Then why don't you tell her so at once, as she's so longing for them? Tell her they're lost. It's the only way to quiet her. Say they're lost, and call me to bear witness. Mrs. H. [Apart to TONY.] You know, my dear, I'm only keeping them for you. So, if I say they're gone, you'll bear me witness, will you? He! he! he! Tony. Never fear me. Ecod! I'll say I saw them taken out with my own eyes. [Aside to MRS. H.] Miss N. I desire them but for one day, madam. Just to be permitted to shew them as relics, and then they may be locked up again. Mrs. H. To be plain with you, my dear Constance, if I could find them, you should have them. They're missing, I assure you Lost, for aught I know; but we must have patience wherever they are. Miss N. I'll not believe it; it is but a shallow pretence to deny me. I know they're too valuable to be so slightly kept As you are to answer for the loss 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 missing and not to be found, I'll take my oath on't. 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 trumpery. 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 thiugs 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 Catherine wheel! We are Enter Mrs. HARDCASTLE. Mrs. H. Confusion! thieves! robbers! cheated, plundered, broke open, undone. Tony. What's the matter, what's the mamma? I hope nothing has happened to any of the good family. matter, Mrs. H. We are robbed. My bureau has been broken open, the jewels taken out, and I'm 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 so. 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 on 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 poor niece, what will become of her? Do you laugh, you unfeeling brute, as if you enjoy'd my distress? Tony. I can bear witness to that. Mrs. H. Do you insult me, monster? I'll teach you to vex your mother, I will. Tony. I can bear witness to that. [Exeunt. Enter Miss HARDCASTLE and Maid. Miss H. What an unaccountable creature is that brother of mine, to send them to the house as an inn: ha ha ha! I don't wonder at his impudence. Maid. But what is more, madam, the young gentleman, as you pass'd 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 resolv'd to keep up the delusion. Tell me, how do you like my present dress? Don't you think I look something like Cherry, in the Beaux' Stratagem? Maid. It's the dress, madam, that every lady wears in the country, but when she visits or receives company. Miss H. And are you sure he don't remember my face or person? Maid. Certain of it. Miss H. I vow I thought so; for though we 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 is 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 true bar cant. Did your honour call? Attend the Lion there: pipes and tobacco for the Angel: the Lamb has been outrageous this half hour. Maid. It will do, madam; but he's here. [Erit 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 curtsy 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. 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 Mar. No, child. [Musing.] Besides, from the favourite there, you say? glimpse I nad of her, I think she squints. Miss H. I'm sure, sir, I heard the bell ring. Msss 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, 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. keep no French wines her, sir. We We Mar. Of true English growth, I assure you. Miss H. Then it's odd I should not know it. brew all sorts of wines in this house, and I have lived here these eighteen years. Mar. Eighteen years! Why, one would child, you kept the bar before you were born. old are you? think, They Miss H. O sir! I must not tell my age. 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 awhile 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! Miss H. O! then, sir, you are a favourite, I find, among the ladies? 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 candle-light. You shall see all in the morning. Mar. And why not now, my angel? Such beauty fires beyond the power of resistance.-P'sha! the father here! My old luck! I never nicked seven, that I did not throw ames the aces three times following. [Exis. 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? Did'nt 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 dif. ferent qualifications. Miss H. Sir, I ask but this night to convince you. Hard You shall not have half the time; for I have thougths 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 ask'd 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. Marlow 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 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 bar-maid of an inn. I don't intend to rob her, take my word for it; there's nothing in this house I sha'nt honestly pay for. Hast. I believe the girl has virtue. Aside.] Hast. He must not see my uneasiness. Hast. No, nothing. Never was in better spirits Mar. Rather too readily; for she not only kept Hast. So, now all hopes of fortune are at an end, ha, ha! Enter HARDCASTLE. Hard. I no longer know my own house. It's turned all topsy-turvey. 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 of 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. Hard. Then they had your orders for what they do? Mar. They had, I assure you; you shall hear from one 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 Mar. And if she has, I should be the last man in house? the world that would attempt to corrupt it. Hast. You have taken care, I hope, of the casket I sent you to lock up? 'Tis in safety? a Mar. Yes, yes, it's safe enough; I have taken care of it. But how could you think the seat of post-coach at an inn-door a place of safety? Ah, numskull! I have taken better precautions for you than you did for yourself-I have Hast. What? Hard. I begin to lose my patience. [Aside.] Mar. You see, my old friend, the fellow's as drunk as he possibly can be. I don't know what you'd Mar. I have sent it to the landlady to keep for 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, sir, I have submitted to your insolence for more than four hours, and I see no likelihood of its coming to an end. I'm now resolv'd to be master here, sir; and I 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. Mur. 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 heard of 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. Mar. There's 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 warming-pan, that you may see your own brazen face in. Mar. My bill, sir. 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. V 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 every thing the wrong way: I mistook your assiduity for assurance, and your simplicity for allurement. But it's all over-this house I no more show 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 any thing 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 H. 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 reluetance. 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. 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 preserve 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. Miss H. A relation of the family, sir. Mar. What, a poor relation? 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 bar-maid 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. Harcastle's house, child? Mise H. Ay, sir, whose else should it be? Enter TONY aad 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 N. But, my dear cousin, sure you won't forsake us in this distress. If she in the least suspects 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 Whistlejacket, and I'm sure you can't say but I have courted you nicely be. fore 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 he sure; |