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+\documentclass{book}
+\usepackage[pagestyles,outermarks,clearempty]{titlesec}[2005/01/22 v2.6]
+\usepackage{titletoc}[2005/01/22 v1.5]
+\usepackage[repeat]{drama}
+\usepackage{poetry}
+\usepackage{example}
+
+\parindent=0pt
+\hfuzz 1pt
+
+\TextHeight {6in}
+\TextWidth {27pc}
+
+\frenchspacing
+
+%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%
+%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%
+%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%
+
+\newpagestyle {MainMatterPage} {
+
+ \sethead [\oldstylenums{\thepage}]
+ [\small She Stoops to Conquer]
+ [\firstlinetitlemarks
+ Act \MakeUppercase{\romannumeral \chaptertitle}]
+ {\firstlinetitlemarks
+ Act \MakeUppercase{\romannumeral \chaptertitle}}
+ {\small She Stoops to Conquer}
+ {\oldstylenums{\thepage}}
+
+ \Capita {chapter}{section}
+}
+
+%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%
+%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%
+%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%
+
+\Facies \tituli {\textsc{#1}}
+\SpatiumSupra {2ex plus .5ex}
+\SpatiumInfra {1ex plus .25ex}
+
+\Novus \titulus \Titulus
+\Facies {\ifthenelse {\value{page} > 3}{\newpage}{}
+ \spatium* {.15\textheight}\RelSize{+1}#1}
+\SpatiumInfra {2ex plus .5ex minus .5ex}
+
+\Novus \numerus \Nact
+\Facies {\MakeUppercase{\romannumeral#1}}
+\Caput {\chapter}
+
+\Novus \titulus \endAct
+\Facies {\ifthenelse {\value{Nact} = 5}
+ {\textsc{finis}}
+ {\textsc{end of the \ordinal{\value{Nact}}%
+ \theordinal\ act}
+ \newpage
+ \thispagestyle{empty}
+ \spatium* {4\leading}
+ }}
+\SpatiumSupra {6ex plus 2ex\penalty 10000}
+
+\Novus \titulus \Act
+\Facies {\ifthenelse {\value{Nact} > 0}
+ {\endAct\empty}
+ {\spatium {2ex plus 1ex}}%
+ ACT \Nact*{=+1}}
+\SpatiumInfra {1\leading plus 1\leading}
+
+\Forma \personae {\hangafter 1 \hangindent 1em\relax}
+\Facies {\textsc{\MakeLowercase{#1}}.%
+ \hskip .5em plus .25em minus .125em%
+ \\
+ \textsc{\MakeLowercase{#1}}}
+\SpatiumSupra {0ex plus .2ex}
+
+\Facies \[ {\ifthenelse {\isopt r}
+ {[\textit{#1}}
+ {(\textit{#1\/})}%
+ }
+\SpatiumAnte {.33em plus .11em minus .11em}
+\SpatiumPost {.33em plus .11em minus .11em}
+
+\Forma \( {\centered}
+\Facies {\itshape}
+\SpatiumSupra {.5\leading plus .5\leading minus .125\leading}
+\SpatiumInfra {.5\leading plus .5\leading minus .125\leading}
+
+\Locus \numeri {\rightmargin + 2em\\\rightmargin + 2em}
+\Facies {\number #1}
+\Progressio {{10}}
+\Modus {\pagewise}
+
+\begin{document}
+
+\ExampleTitle {Oliver Goldsmith}{She Stoops to Conquer}
+ {Poems and Plays\\[1ex]Dent, 1975}
+
+\pagestyle {empty}
+
+\Titulus {DRAMATIS PERSONAE}
+
+\begin{versus}
+
+ \Novus \textus \actor
+ \Locus {\leftmargin + .5\textwidth}
+ \Facies {#1}
+
+\titulus{men}
+
+Sir Charles Marlow, \actor{Mr. Gardner}
+Young Marlow (his Son), \actor{Mr. Lee Lewes}
+Hardcastle, \actor{Mr. Shuter}
+Hastings, \actor{Mr. Dubellamy}
+Tony Lumpkin, \actor{Mr. Quick}
+Diggory, \actor{Mr. Saunders}
+
+\titulus{women}
+
+Mrs. Hardcastle, \actor{Mrs. Green}
+Miss Hardcastle, \actor{Mrs. Bulkley}
+Miss neville, \actor{Mrs. Kniveton}
+Maid, \actor{Miss Williams}
+
+\titulus {\textit{Landlord, Servants, etc. etc.}}
+\end{versus}
+
+\newpage
+\Titulus{TO SAMUEL JOHNSON, LL.D.}
+
+Dear Sir,
+\spatium {.5ex}
+
+By inscribing this slight performance to you, I do not mean
+so much to compliment you as myself. It may do me some honour to
+inform the public, that I have lived many years in intimacy with you.
+It may serve the interests of mankind also to inform them, that the
+greatest wit may be found in a character, without impairing the most
+unaffected piety.
+
+\quad I have, particularly, reason to thank you for your
+partiality to this performance. The undertaking a comedy not merely
+sentimental was very dangerous; and Mr. Colman, who saw this piece in
+its various stages, always thought it so. However, I ventured to trust
+it to the public; and, though it was necessarily delayed till late in
+the season, I have every reason to be grateful.
+
+\spatium {.5ex}
+
+\begin{versus}
+\Forma \strophae {345{1ex}6\\1.5em}
+I am, Dear Sir,
+Your most sincere friend,
+And admirer,
+\textsc{oliver goldsmith}
+\end{versus}
+
+\Titulus{PROLOGUE,}
+\titulus{BY DAVID GARRICK, ESQ.}
+
+\begin{drama}
+\begin{versus}
+\itshape
+\(c)Enter \persona{Mr. Woodward},\\ Dressed in Black, and holding a Handkerchief
+to his Eyes\)
+\Locus \textus {+4em}
+\00 Excuse me, sirs, I pray---I can't yet speak---
+I'm crying now---and have been all the week.
+\textup{'Tis not alone this mourning suit,} good masters:
+\textup{I've that within}---for which there are no plasters!
+Pray, would you know the reason why I'm crying?
+The Comic Muse, long sick, is now a-dying!
+And if she goes, my tears will never stop;
+For as a player, I can't squeeze out one drop:
+I am undone, that's all---shall lose my bread---
+I'd rather, but that's nothing---lose my head.
+When the sweet maid is laid upon the bier,
+\textup{Shuter} and I shall be chief mourners here.
+To \textup{her} a mawkish drab of spurious breed,
+Who deals in \textup{sentimentals} will succeed!
+Poor \textup{Ned} and \textup{I} are dead to all intents;
+We can as soon speak \textup{Greek} as \textup{sentiments}!
+Both nervous grown, to keep our spirits up.
+We now and then take down a hearty cup.
+What shall we do? If Comedy forsake us,
+\textup{They'll turn us out, and no one else will take us.}
+But why can't I be moral?---Let me try---
+My heart thus pressing---fixed my face and eye---
+With a sententious look, that nothing means,
+(Faces are blocks in sentimental scenes)
+Thus I begin: \textup{All is not gold that glitters},
+{\upshape
+Pleasure seems sweet, but proves a glass of bitters.
+When Ignorance enters, Folly is at hand:
+Learning is better far than house and land.
+Let not your virtue trip; who trips may stumble,
+And virtue is not virtue, if she tumble.
+}
+I give it up---morals won't do for me;
+To make you laugh, I must play tragedy.
+One hope remains---hearing the maid was ill,
+A \textup{doctor} comes this night to show his skill.
+To cheer her heart, and give your muscles motion,
+He, in \textup{five draughts} prepar'd, presents a potion:
+A kind of magic charm---for be assur'd,
+If you will \textup{swallow it}, the maid is cur'd:
+But desperate the Doctor, and her case is,
+If you reject the dose, and make wry faces!
+This truth he boasts, will boast it while he lives,
+No \textup{poisonous drugs} are mixed in what he gives.
+Should he succeed, you'll give him his degree;
+If not, within he will receive no fee!
+The College \textup{you}, must his pretensions back,
+Pronounce him \textup{regular}, or dub him \textup{quack}.
+\end{versus}
+\end{drama}
+
+\Drama
+\Prosa
+\persona*[1]{Sir Charles}
+\persona*[2]{Marlow}
+\persona*[3]{Hardcastle}
+\persona*[4]{Hastings}
+\persona*[5]{Tony}
+\persona*[6]{Diggory}
+
+\persona*[7]{Mrs. Hardcastle}
+\persona*[8]{Miss Hardcastle}
+\persona*[9]{Miss Neville}
+\persona*[10]{Maid}
+\persona*[11]{Landlord}
+\persona*[12]{Servant}
+
+\persona*[01]{Scene}
+
+
+ \Titulus {SHE STOOPS TO CONQUER\\[.5ex]
+ {\RelSize{-1}OR,}\\[.67ex]
+ THE MISTAKES OF A NIGHT}
+
+\spatium* {1\leading}
+
+\thispagestyle {empty}
+\pagestyle {MainMatterPage}
+
+\Act
+
+
+\(\01, A Chamber in an old-fashioned House\)
+
+
+\(Enter \7 and \persona{Mr. Hardcastle}\)
+
+\numerus{1}
+
+\7 I vow, Mr. Hardcastle, you're very particular. Is
+there a creature in the whole country but ourselves, that does not take
+a trip to town now and then, to rub off the rust a little? There's the
+two Miss Hoggs, and our neighbour Mrs. Grigsby, go to take a month's
+polishing every winter.
+
+\3 Ay, and bring back vanity and affectation to last them the
+whole year. I wonder why London cannot keep its own fools at home! In
+my time, the follies of the town crept slowly among us, but now they
+travel faster than a stage-coach. Its fopperies come down not only as
+inside passengers, but in the very basket.
+
+\7 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 dancing-master; and all
+our entertainment your old stories of Prince Eugene and the Duke of
+Marlborough. I hate such old-fashioned trumpery.
+
+\3 And I love it. I love everything 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.
+
+\7 Lord, Mr. Hardcastle, you're for ever at your
+Dorothys and your old wifes. 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.
+
+\3 Let me see; twenty added to twenty makes just fifty and
+seven.
+
+\7 It's false, Mr. Hardcastle; I was but twenty when I
+was brought to bed of Tony, that I had by Mr. Lumpkin, my first
+husband; and he's not come to years of discretion yet.
+
+\3 Nor ever will, I dare answer for him. Ay, you have
+taught him finely.
+
+\7 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.
+
+\3 Learning, quotha! a mere composition of tricks and
+mischief.
+
+\7 Humour, my dear; nothing but humour. Come, Mr.
+Hardcastle, you must allow the boy a little humour.
+
+\3 I'd sooner allow him a horse-pond. If burning the
+footmen's shoes, frightening the maids, and worrying the kittens be
+humour, he has it. It was but yesterday he fastened my wig to the back
+of my chair, and when I went to make a bow, I popt my bald head in Mrs.
+Frizzle's face.
+
+\7 And am I to blame? The poor boy was always too
+sickly to do any good. A school would be his death. When he comes to
+be a little stronger, who knows what a year or two's Latin may do for
+him?
+
+\3 Latin for him! A cat and fiddle. No, no; the alehouse
+and the stable are the only schools he'll ever go to.
+
+\7 Well, we must not snub the poor boy now, for I
+believe we shan't have him long among us. Anybody that looks in his
+face may see he's consumptive.
+
+\3 Ay, if growing too fat be one of the symptoms.
+
+\7 He coughs sometimes.
+
+\3 Yes, when his liquor goes the wrong way.
+
+\7 I'm actually afraid of his lungs.
+
+\3 And truly so am I; for he sometimes whoops like a
+speaking trumpet---\[ap]\5 hallooing behind the scenes\]---O, there he
+goes---a very consumptive figure, truly.
+
+
+\(Enter \5, crossing the stage.\)
+
+
+\7 Tony, where are you going, my charmer? Won't you
+give papa and I a little of your company, lovee?
+
+\5 I'm in haste, mother; I cannot stay.
+
+\7 You shan't venture out this raw evening, my dear; you
+look most shockingly.
+
+\5 I can't stay, I tell you. The Three Pigeons expects me down
+every moment. There's some fun going forward.
+
+\3 Ay; the alehouse, the old place: I thought so.
+
+
+\7 A low, paltry set of fellows.
+
+\5 Not so low, neither. There's Dick Muggins the exciseman, Jack
+Slang the horse doctor, Little Aminadab that grinds the music box, and
+Tom Twist that spins the pewter platter.
+
+\7 Pray, my dear, disappoint them for one night at
+least.
+
+\5 As for disappointing them, I should not so much mind; but I
+can't abide to disappoint myself.
+
+\7 \[Detaining him\] You shan't go.
+
+\5 I will, I tell you.
+
+\7 I say you shan't.
+
+\5 We'll see which is strongest, you or I. \[r]Exit, hauling her
+out\]
+
+\(\3, Solus\)
+
+\3 Ay, there goes a pair that only spoil each
+other. But is not the whole age in a combination to drive sense and
+discretion out of doors? There's my pretty darling Kate! the fashions
+of the times have almost infected her too. By living a year or two in
+town, she is as fond of gauze and French frippery as the best of them.
+
+
+\(Enter \8\)
+
+
+\3 Blessings on my pretty innocence! drest out as usual, my
+Kate. Goodness! What a quantity of superfluous silk hast thou got
+about thee, girl! I could never teach the fools of this age, that the
+indigent world could be clothed out of the trimmings of the vain.
+
+\8 You know our agreement, sir. You allow me the
+morning to receive and pay visits, and to dress in my own manner; and
+in the evening I put on my housewife's dress to please you.
+
+\3 Well, remember, I insist on the terms of our agreement;
+and, by the bye, I believe I shall have occasion to try your obedience
+this very evening.
+
+\8 I protest, sir, I don't comprehend your meaning.
+
+\3 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.
+
+\8 Indeed! I wish I had known something of this
+before. Bless me, how shall I behave? It's a thousand to one I
+shan't like him; our meeting will be so formal, and so like a thing of
+business, that I shall find no room for friendship or esteem.
+
+\3 Depend upon it, child, I'll never control your choice; but
+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. I am told he's a man of an excellent
+understanding.
+
+\8 Is he?
+
+\3 Very generous.
+
+\8 I believe I shall like him.
+
+\3 Young and brave.
+
+\8 I'm sure I shall like him.
+
+\3 And very handsome.
+
+\8 My dear papa, say no more \[kissing his hand\] he's
+mine; I'll have him.
+
+\3 And, to crown all, Kate, he's one of the most bashful and
+reserved young fellows in all the world.
+
+\8 Eh! you have frozen me to death again. That word
+\textit{reserved} has undone all the rest of his accomplishments. A reserved
+lover, it is said, always makes a suspicious husband.
+
+\3 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.
+
+\8 He must have more striking features to catch me, I
+promise you. However, if he be so young, so handsome, and so
+everything as you mention, I believe he'll do still. I think I'll have
+him.
+
+\3 Ay, Kate, but there is still an obstacle. It's more than
+an even wager he may not have you.
+
+\8 My dear papa, why will you mortify one so?---Well, if
+he refuses, instead of breaking my heart at his indifference, I'll only
+break my glass for its flattery, set my cap to some newer fashion, and
+look out for some less difficult admirer.
+
+\3 Bravely resolved! In the mean time I'll go prepare the
+servants for his reception: as we seldom see company, they want as much
+training as a company of recruits the first day's muster. \[r]Exit\]
+
+ \(\8, Sola\)
+
+\8 Lud, this news of papa's puts me all in a
+flutter. Young, handsome: these he put last; but I put them foremost.
+Sensible, good-natured; I like all that. But then reserved and
+sheepish; that's much against him. 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.
+
+
+\(Enter \9\)
+
+
+\8 I'm glad you're come, Neville, my dear. Tell me,
+Constance, how do I look this evening? Is there anything whimsical
+about me? Is it one of my well-looking days, child? Am I in face
+to-day?
+
+\9 Perfectly, my dear. Yet now I look again---bless
+me!---sure no accident has happened among the canary birds or the gold
+fishes. Has your brother or the cat been meddling? or has the last
+novel been too moving?
+
+\8 No; nothing of all this. I have been threatened---I
+can scarce get it out---I have been threatened with a lover.
+
+\9 And his name---
+
+\8 Is Marlow.
+
+\9 Indeed!
+
+\8 The son of Sir Charles Marlow.
+
+\9 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.
+
+\8 Never.
+
+\9 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 understand me.
+
+\8 An odd character indeed. I shall never be able to
+manage him. What shall I do? Pshaw, think no more of him, but trust
+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?
+
+\9 I have just come from one of our agreeable
+tete-a-tetes. She has been saying a hundred tender things, and setting
+off her pretty monster as the very pink of perfection.
+
+\8 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.
+
+\9 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.
+
+\8 My good brother holds out stoutly. I could almost
+love him for hating you so.
+
+\9 It is a good-natured creature at bottom, and I'm sure
+would wish to see me married to anybody but himself. But my aunt's
+bell rings for our afternoon's walk round the improvements. Allons!
+Courage is necessary, as our affairs are critical.
+
+\8 Would it were bed-time, and all were well.
+
+\[r]Exeunt\]
+
+\(j)\01, An Alehouse Room. Several shabby Fellows with punch and
+tobacco. \5 at the head of the table, a little higher than the
+rest, a mallet in his hand.\)
+
+
+\persona{Omnes} Hurrea! hurrea! hurrea! bravo!
+
+\persona{First Fellow} Now, gentlemen, silence for a song. The 'squire is
+going to knock himself down for a song.
+
+\persona{Omnes} Ay, a song, a song!
+
+\5 Then I'll sing you, gentlemen, a song I made upon this
+alehouse, the Three Pigeons.
+
+\SpatiumSupra \titulum {2ex plus 1ex\penalty -100}
+\SpatiumInfra {2ex plus 1ex\penalty 10000}
+\titulus{\textsc{Song}}
+
+\begin{versus}
+\Forma \strophae {010101016}
+\SpatiumInfra {1.5ex plus .5ex\penalty -100}
+\Locus \textus {+4em}
+\itshape
+
+Let schoolmasters puzzle their brain
+ With grammar, and nonsense, and learning,
+Good liquor, I stoutly maintain,
+ Gives \textup{genus} a better discerning.
+Let them brag of their heathenish gods,
+ Their Lethes, their Styxes, and Stygians,
+Their Quis, and their Quaes, and their Quods,
+ They're all but a parcel of Pigeons.
+ \textup{Toroddle, toroddle, toroll.}
+
+When methodist preachers come down,
+ A-preaching that drinking is sinful,
+I'll wager the rascals a crown,
+ They always preach best with a skinful.
+But when you come down with your pence,
+ For a slice of their scurvy religion,
+I'll leave it to all men of sense,
+ But you, my good friend, are the Pigeon.
+ \textup{Toroddle, toroddle, toroll.}
+
+Then come, put the jorum about,
+ And let us be merry and clever,
+Our hearts and our liquors 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 \textup{gay} birds in the air,
+ Here's a health to the Three Jolly Pigeons.
+ \textup{Toroddle, toroddle, toroll.}
+
+\end{versus}
+
+\persona{Omnes} Bravo, bravo!
+
+\persona{First Fellow} The 'squire has got spunk in him.
+
+\persona{Second Fellow} I loves to hear him sing, bekeays he never gives us
+nothing that's low.
+
+\persona{Third Fellow} O damn anything that's low, I cannot bear it.
+
+\persona{Fourth Fellow} The genteel thing is the genteel thing any time: if so
+be that a gentleman bees in a concatenation accordingly.
+
+\persona{Third Fellow} I likes the maxum of it, Master Muggins. What, though I
+am obligated to dance a bear, a man may be a gentleman for all that.
+May this be my poison, if my bear ever dances but to the very
+genteelest of tunes; ``Water Parted,'' or ``The minuet in Ariadne.''
+
+\persona{Second Fellow} What a pity it is the 'squire is not come to his own.
+It would be well for all the publicans within ten miles round of him.
+
+\5 Ecod, and so it would, Master Slang. I'd then show what it was
+to keep choice of company.
+
+\persona{Second Fellow} O 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.
+
+\5 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?
+
+
+\(Enter \11.\)
+
+
+\11 There be two gentlemen in a post-chaise at the door. They
+have lost their way upo' the forest; and they are talking something
+about Mr. Hardcastle.
+
+\5 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?
+
+\11 I believe they may. They look woundily like Frenchmen.
+
+\5 Then desire them to step this way, and I'll set them right in a
+twinkling. \[Exit \11\]
+Gentlemen, as they mayn't be good enough
+company for you, step down for a moment, and I'll be with you in the
+squeezing of a lemon. \[r]Exeunt mob\]
+
+ \(\5 solus\)
+\5 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---afraid of what? I shall soon be
+worth fifteen hundred a year, and let him frighten me out of \textit{that}
+if he can.
+
+
+\(Enter \11, conducting \2 and \4\)
+
+
+\2 What a tedious uncomfortable day have we had of it! We were
+told it was but forty miles across the country, and we have come above
+threescore.
+
+\4 And all, Marlow, from that unaccountable reserve of yours,
+that would not let us inquire more frequently on the way.
+
+\2 I own, Hastings, I am unwilling to lay myself under an
+obligation to every one I meet, and often stand the chance of an
+unmannerly answer.
+
+\4 At present, however, we are not likely to receive any
+answer.
+
+\5 No offence, gentlemen. But I'm told you have been inquiring for
+one Mr. Hardcastle in these parts. Do you know what part of the
+country you are in?
+
+\4 Not in the least, sir, but should thank you for
+information.
+
+\5 Nor the way you came?
+
+\4 No, sir: but if you can inform us------
+
+\5 Why, gentlemen, if you know neither the road you are going, nor
+where you are, nor the road you came, the first thing I have to inform
+you is, that---you have lost your way.
+
+\2 We wanted no ghost to tell us that.
+
+\5 Pray, gentlemen, may I be so bold so as to ask the place from
+whence you came?
+
+\2 That's not necessary towards directing us where we are to go.
+
+\5 No offence; but question for question is all fair, you know.
+Pray, gentlemen, is not this same Hardcastle a cross-grained,
+old-fashioned, whimsical fellow, with an ugly face, a daughter, and a
+pretty son?
+
+\4 We have not seen the gentleman; but he has the family you
+mention.
+
+\5 The daughter, a tall, trapesing, trolloping, talkative maypole;
+the son, a pretty, well-bred, agreeable youth, that everybody is fond
+of.
+
+\2 Our information differs in this. The daughter is said to be
+well-bred and beautiful; the son an awkward booby, reared up and
+spoiled at his mother's apron-string.
+
+\5 He-he-hem!---Then, gentlemen, all I have to tell you is, that you
+won't reach Mr. Hardcastle's house this night, I believe.
+
+\4 Unfortunate!
+
+\5 It's a damn'd long, dark, boggy, dirty, dangerous way. Stingo,
+tell the gentlemen the way to Mr. Hardcastle's! \[winking upon the
+\11\] Mr. Hardcastle's, of Quagmire Marsh, you understand me.
+
+\11 Master Hardcastle's! Lock-a-daisy, my masters, you're come
+a deadly deal wrong! When you came to the bottom of the hill, you
+should have crossed down Squash Lane.
+
+\2 Cross down Squash Lane!
+
+\11 Then you were to keep straight forward, till you came to
+four roads.
+
+\2 Come to where four roads meet?
+
+\5 Ay; but you must be sure to take only one of them.
+
+\2 O, sir, you're facetious.
+
+\5 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 you come to farmer Murrain's barn. Coming
+to the farmer's barn, you are to turn to the right, and then to the
+left, and then to the right about again, till you find out the old
+mill---
+
+\2 Zounds, man! we could as soon find out the longitude!
+
+\4 What's to be done, Marlow?
+
+\2 This house promises but a poor reception; though perhaps the
+landlord can accommodate us.
+
+\11 Alack, master, we have but one spare bed in the whole
+house.
+
+\5 And to my knowledge, that's taken up by three lodgers already.
+\[after a pause, in which the rest seem disconcerted\] I have hit it.
+Don't you think, Stingo, our landlady could accommodate the gentlemen
+by the fire-side, with------three chairs and a bolster?
+
+\4 I hate sleeping by the fire-side.
+
+\2 And I detest your three chairs and a bolster.
+
+\5 You do, do you? then, let me see---what if you go on a mile
+further, to the Buck's Head; the old Buck's Head on the hill, one of
+the best inns in the whole county?
+
+\4 O ho! so we have escaped an adventure for this night,
+however.
+
+\11 \[apart to \5\] Sure, you ben't sending them to your
+father's as an inn, be you?
+
+\5 Mum, you fool you. Let \textit{them} find that out. \[to them\] You
+have only to keep on straight forward, till you come to a large old
+house by the road side. You'll see a pair of large horns over the
+door. That's the sign. Drive up the yard, and call stoutly about you.
+
+\4 Sir, we are obliged to you. The servants can't miss the
+way?
+
+\5 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 mind him, he'll persuade you that his mother was an
+alderman, and his aunt a justice of peace.
+
+\11 A troublesome old blade, to be sure; but a keeps as good
+wines and beds as any in the whole country.
+
+\2 Well, if he supplies us with these, we shall want no farther
+connexion. We are to turn to the right, did you say?
+
+\5 No, no; straight forward. I'll just step myself, and show you a
+piece of the way. \[to the \11\] Mum!
+
+\11 Ah, bless your heart, for a sweet, pleasant---damn'd
+mischie\-vous son of a whore. \[r]Exeunt\]
+
+
+
+\Act
+
+
+\(\01, An old-fashioned House.\)
+
+
+\(Enter \3, followed by three or four awkward Servants.\)
+
+
+\3 Well, I hope you are 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
+ever stirring from home.
+
+\persona{Omnes} Ay, ay.
+
+\3 When company comes you are not to pop out and stare, and
+then run in again, like frightened rabbits in a warren.
+
+\persona{Omnes} No, no.
+
+\3 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 yourself behind my chair. But you're not to stand
+so, with your hands in your pockets. Take your hands from your
+pockets, Roger; and from your head, you blockhead you. See how Diggory
+carries his hands. They're a little too stiff, indeed, but that's no
+great matter.
+
+\6 Ay, mind how I hold them. I learned to hold my hands this
+way when I was upon drill for the militia. And so being upon drill------
+
+\3 You must not be so talkative, Diggory. You must be all
+attention to the guests. You must hear us talk, and not think of
+talking; you must see us drink, and not think of drinking; you must see
+us eat, and not think of eating.
+
+\6 By the laws, your worship, that's parfectly unpossible.
+Whenever Diggory sees yeating going forward, ecod, he's always wishing
+for a mouthful himself.
+
+\3 Blockhead! Is not a belly-full in the kitchen as good as
+a belly-full in the parlour? Stay your stomach with that reflection.
+
+\6 Ecod, I thank your worship, I'll make a shift to stay my
+stomach with a slice of cold beef in the pantry.
+
+\3 Diggory, you are too talkative.---Then, if I happen to say
+a good thing, or tell a good story at table, you must not all burst out
+a-laughing, as if you made part of the company.
+
+\6 Then ecod your worship must not tell the story of Ould
+Grouse in the gun-room: I can't help laughing at that---he! he!
+he!---for the soul of me. We have laughed at that these twenty
+years---ha! ha! ha!
+
+\3 Ha! ha! ha! The story is a good one. Well, honest
+Diggory, you may laugh at that---but still remember to be attentive.
+Suppose one of the company should call for a glass of wine, how will
+you behave? A glass of wine, sir, if you please \[to \6\].---Eh, why
+don't you move?
+
+\6 Ecod, your worship, I never have courage till I see the
+eatables and drinkables brought upo' the table, and then I'm as bauld
+as a lion.
+
+\3 What, will nobody move?
+
+\persona{First Servant} I'm not to leave this pleace.
+
+\persona{Second Servant} I'm sure it's no pleace of mine.
+
+\persona{Third Servant} Nor mine, for sartain.
+
+\6 Wauns, and I'm sure it canna be mine.
+
+\3 You numskulls! and so while, like your betters, you are
+quarrelling for places, the guests must be starved. O you dunces! I
+find I must begin all over again------But don't I hear a coach drive into
+the yard? To your posts, you blockheads. I'll go in the mean time and
+give my old friend's son a hearty reception at the gate.
+
+\[r]Exit \3\]
+
+\6 By the elevens, my pleace is gone quite out of my head.
+
+\persona{Roger} I know that my pleace is to be everywhere.
+
+\persona{First Servant} Where the devil is mine?
+
+\persona{Second Servant} My pleace is to be nowhere at all; and so I'ze go
+about my business.
+
+\[r]Exeunt Servants, running about as if frightened, different ways\]
+
+
+\(Enter \12 with candles, showing in \2 and \4\)
+
+
+\12 Welcome, gentlemen, very welcome! This way.
+
+\4 After the disappointments of the day, welcome once more,
+Charles, to the comforts of a clean room and a good fire. Upon my
+word, a very well-looking house; antique but creditable.
+
+\2 The usual fate of a large mansion. Having first ruined the
+master by good housekeeping, it at last comes to levy contributions as
+an inn.
+
+\4 As you say, we passengers are to be taxed to pay all these
+fineries. I have often seen a good sideboard, or a marble
+chimney-piece, though not actually put in the bill, inflame a
+reckoning confoundedly.
+
+\2 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.
+
+\4 You have lived very much among them. In truth, I have been
+often surprised, that you who have seen so much of the world, with your
+natural good sense, and your many opportunities, could never yet
+acquire a requisite share of assurance.
+
+\2 The Englishman's malady. But tell me, George, where could I
+have learned that assurance you talk of? My life has been chiefly
+spent in a college or an inn, in seclusion from that lovely part of the
+creation that chiefly teach men confidence. I don't know that I was
+ever familiarly acquainted with a single modest woman---except my
+mother---But among females of another class, you know------
+
+\4 Ay, among them you are impudent enough of all conscience.
+
+\2 They are of \textit{us}, you know.
+
+\4 But in the company of women of reputation I never saw such
+an idiot, such a trembler; you look for all the world as if you wanted
+an opportunity of stealing out of the room.
+
+\2 Why, man, that's because I do want to steal out of the room.
+Faith, I have often 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.
+
+\4 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------
+
+\2 Why, George, I can't say fine things to them; they freeze,
+they petrify me. They may talk of a comet, or a burning mountain, or
+some such bagatelle; but, to me, a modest woman, drest out in all her
+finery, is the most tremendous object of the whole creation.
+
+\4 Ha! ha! ha! At this rate, man, how can you ever expect to
+marry?
+
+\2 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, and cousins, and at last to blurt out
+the broad staring question of, Madam, will you marry me? No, no,
+that's a strain much above me, I assure you.
+
+\4 I pity you. But how do you intend behaving to the lady you
+are come down to visit at the request of your father?
+
+\2 As I behave to all other ladies. Bow very low, answer yes or
+no to all her demands---But for the rest, I don't think I shall venture
+to look in her face till I see my father's again.
+
+\4 I'm surprised that one who is so warm a friend can be so
+cool a lover.
+
+\2 To be explicit, my dear Hastings, my chief inducement down was
+to be instrumental in forwarding your happiness, not my own. Miss
+Neville loves you, the family don't know you; as my friend you are sure
+of a reception, and let honour do the rest.
+
+\4 My dear Marlow! But I'll suppress the emotion. Were I a
+wretch, meanly seeking to carry off a fortune, you should be the last
+man in the world I would apply to for assistance. But Miss Neville's
+person is all I ask, and that is mine, both from her deceased father's
+consent, and her own inclination.
+
+\2 Happy man! You have talents and art to captivate any woman.
+I'm doom'd to adore the sex, and yet to converse with the only part of
+it I despise. This stammer in my address, and this awkward
+prepossessing visage of mine, can never permit me to soar above the
+reach of a milliner's 'prentice, or one of the duchesses of Drury-lane.
+Pshaw! this fellow here to interrupt us.
+
+
+\(Enter \3\)
+
+
+\3 Gentlemen, once more you are heartily welcome. Which is
+Mr. Marlow? Sir, you are heartily welcome. It's not my way, you see,
+to receive my friends with my back to the fire. I like give them a
+hearty reception in the old style at my gate. I like to see their
+horses and trunks taken care of.
+
+\2 \[Aside\] He has got our names from the servants already. \[To him\]
+We approve your caution and hospitality, sir. \[To \4\] I
+have been thinking, George, of changing our travelling dresses in the
+morning. I am grown confoundedly ashamed of mine.
+
+\3 I beg, Mr. Marlow, you'll use no ceremony in this house.
+
+\4 I fancy, Charles, you're right: the first blow is half the
+battle. I intend opening the campaign with the white and gold.
+
+\3 Mr. Marlow---Mr. Hastings---gentlemen---pray be under no
+constraint in this house. This is Liberty-hall, gentlemen. You may do
+just as you please here.
+
+\2 Yet, George, if we open the campaign too fiercely at first, we
+may want ammunition before it is over. I think to reserve the
+embroidery to secure a retreat.
+
+\3 Your talking of a retreat, Mr. Marlow, puts me in mind of
+the Duke of Marlborough, when we went to besiege Denain. He first
+summoned the garrison------
+
+\2 Don't you think the \textit{ventre d'or} waistcoat will do with the
+plain brown?
+
+\3 He first summoned the garrison, which might consist of
+about five thousand men------
+
+\4 I think not: brown and yellow mix but very poorly.
+
+\3 I say, gentlemen, as I was telling you, be summoned the
+garrison, which might consist of about five thousand men------
+
+\2 The girls like finery.
+
+\3 Which might consist of about five thousand men, well
+appointed with stores, ammunition, and other implements of war. Now,
+says the Duke of Marlborough to George Brooks, that stood next to
+him---you must have heard of George Brooks---I'll pawn my dukedom, says
+he, but I take that garrison without spilling a drop of blood. So------
+
+\2 What, my good friend, if you gave us a glass of punch in the
+mean time; it would help us to carry on the siege with vigour.
+
+\3 Punch, sir! \[Aside\] This is the most unaccountable kind
+of modesty I ever met with.
+
+\2 Yes, sir, punch. A glass of warm punch, after our journey,
+will be comfortable. This is Liberty-hall, you know.
+
+\3 Here's a cup, sir.
+
+\2 \[Aside\] So this fellow, in his Liberty-hall, will only let
+us have just what he pleases.
+
+\3 \[Taking the cup\] I hope you'll find it to your mind. I
+have prepared it with my own hands, and I believe you'll own the
+ingredients are tolerable. Will you be so good as to pledge me, sir?
+Here, Mr. Marlow, here is to our better acquaintance. \[drinks\]
+
+\2 \[Aside\] A very impudent fellow this! but he's a character,
+and I'll humour him a little. Sir, my service to you. \[drinks\]
+
+\4 \[Aside\] I see this fellow wants to give us his company,
+and forgets that he's an innkeeper, before he has learned to be a
+gentleman.
+
+\2 From the excellence of your cup, my old friend, I suppose you
+have a good deal of business in this part of the country. Warm work,
+now and then, at elections, I suppose.
+
+\3 No, sir, I have long given that work over. Since our
+betters have hit upon the expedient of electing each other, there is no
+business \textit{for us that sell ale}.
+
+\4 So, then, you have no turn for politics, I find.
+
+\3 Not in the least. There was a time, indeed, I fretted
+myself about the mistakes of government, like other people; but finding
+myself every day grow more angry, and the government growing no better,
+I left it to mend itself. Since that, I no more trouble my head about
+\textit{Hyder Ally}, or \textit{Ally Cawn}, than about \textit{Ally
+Croker}. Sir, my service to you.
+
+\4 So that with eating above stairs, and drinking below, with
+receiving your friends within, and amusing them without, you lead a
+good pleasant bustling life of it.
+
+\3 I do stir about a great deal, that's certain. Half the
+differences of the parish are adjusted in this very parlour.
+
+\2 \[After drinking\] And you have an argument in your cup, old
+gentleman, better than any in Westminster-hall.
+
+\3 Ay, young gentleman, that, and a little philosophy.
+
+\2 \[Aside\] Well, this is the first time I ever heard of an
+innkeeper's philosophy.
+
+\4 So then, like an experienced general, you attack them on
+every quarter. If you find their reason manageable, you attack it with
+your philosophy; if you find they have no reason, you attack them with
+this. Here's your health, my philosopher.\[drinks\]
+
+\3 Good, very good, thank you; ha! ha! Your generalship puts
+me in mind of Prince Eugene, when he fought the Turks at the battle of
+Belgrade. You shall hear.
+
+\2 Instead of the battle of Belgrade, I believe it's almost time
+to talk about supper. What has your philosophy got in the house for
+supper?
+
+\3 For supper, sir! \[Aside\] Was ever such a request to a
+man in his own house?
+
+\2 Yes, sir, supper, sir; I begin to feel an appetite. I shall
+make devilish work to-night in the larder, I promise you.
+
+\3 \[Aside\] Such a brazen dog sure never my eyes beheld.
+\[To Him\] Why, really, sir, as for supper I can't well tell. My
+Dorothy and the cook-maid settle these things between them. I leave
+these kind of things entirely to them.
+
+\2 You do, do you?
+
+\3 Entirely. By the bye, I believe they are in actual
+consultation upon what's for supper this moment in the kitchen.
+
+\2 Then I beg they'll admit me as one of their privy council.
+It's a way I have got. When I travel, I always chose to regulate my
+own supper. Let the cook be called. No offence I hope, sir.
+
+\3 O no, sir, none in the least; yet I don't know how; our
+Bridget, the cook-maid, is not very communicative upon these
+occasions. Should we send for her, she might scold us all out of the
+house.
+
+\4 Let's see your list of the larder then. I ask it as a
+favour. I always match my appetite to my bill of fare.
+
+\2 \[To \3, who looks at them with surprise\] Sir, he's
+very right, and it's my way too.
+
+\3 Sir, you have a right to command here. Here, Roger,
+bring us the bill of fare for to-night's supper: I believe it's drawn
+out---Your manner, Mr. Hastings, puts me in mind of my uncle, Colonel
+Wallop. It was a saying of his, that no man was sure of his supper
+till he had eaten it.
+
+\4 \[Aside\] All upon the high rope! His uncle a colonel! we
+shall soon hear of his mother being a justice of the peace. But let's
+hear the bill of fare.
+
+\2 \[Perusing\] What's here? For the first course; for the
+second course; for the dessert. The devil, sir, do you think we have
+brought down a whole Joiners' Company, or the corporation of Bedford,
+to eat up such a supper? Two or three little things, clean and
+comfortable, will do.
+
+\4 But let's hear it.
+
+\2 \[Reading\] For the first course, at the top, a pig and prune
+sauce.
+
+\4 Damn your pig, I say.
+
+\2 And damn your prune sauce, say I.
+
+\3 And yet, gentlemen, to men that are hungry, pig with
+prune sauce is very good eating.
+
+\2 At the bottom, a calf's tongue and brains.
+
+\4 Let your brains be knocked out, my good sir, I don't like
+them.
+
+\2 Or you may clap them on a plate by themselves. I do.
+
+\3 \[Aside\] Their impudence confounds me. \[To them\]
+Gentlemen, you are my guests, make what alterations you please. Is
+there anything else you wish to retrench or alter, gentlemen?
+
+\2 Item, a pork pie, a boiled rabbit and sausages, a Florentine,
+a shaking pudding, and a dish of tiff---taff---taffety cream.
+
+\4 Confound your made dishes; I shall be as much at a loss in
+this house as at a green and yellow dinner at the French ambassador's
+table. I'm for plain eating.
+
+\3 I'm sorry, gentlemen, that I have nothing you like, but if
+there be anything you have a particular fancy to------
+
+\2 Why, really, sir, your bill of fare is so exquisite, that any
+one part of it is full as good as another. Send us what you please.
+So much for supper. And now to see that our beds are aired, and
+properly taken care of.
+
+\3 I entreat you'll leave that to me. You shall not stir a
+step.
+
+\2 Leave that to you! I protest, sir, you must excuse me, I
+always look to these things myself.
+
+\3 I must insist, sir, you'll make yourself easy on that
+head.
+
+\2 You see I'm resolved on it. \[Aside\] A very troublesome
+fellow this, as I ever met with.
+
+\3 Well, sir, I'm resolved at least to attend you. \[Aside\]
+This may be modem modesty, but I never saw anything look so like
+old-fashioned impudence. \[r]Exeunt \2 and \3\]
+
+\4 \[Alone\] So I find this fellow's civilities begin to grow
+troublesome. But who can be angry at those assiduities which are meant
+to please him? Ha! what do I see? Miss Neville, by all that's happy!
+
+
+\(Enter \9\)
+
+
+\9 My dear Hastings! To what unexpected good fortune, to
+what accident, am I to ascribe this happy meeting?
+
+\4 Rather let me ask the same question, as I could never have
+hoped to meet my dearest Constance at an inn.
+
+\9 An inn! sure you mistake: my aunt, my guardian, lives
+here. What could induce you to think this house an inn?
+
+\4 My friend, Mr. Marlow, with whom I came down, and I, have
+been sent here as to an inn, I assure you. A young fellow, whom we
+accidentally met at a house hard by, directed us hither.
+
+\9 Certainly it must be one of my hopeful cousin's tricks,
+of whom you have heard me talk so often; ha! ha! ha!
+
+\4 He whom your aunt intends for you? he of whom I have such
+just apprehensions?
+
+\9 You have nothing to fear from him, I assure you. You'd
+adore him, if you knew how heartily he despises me. My aunt knows it
+too, and has undertaken to court me for him, and actually begins to
+think she has made a conquest.
+
+\4 Thou dear dissembler! You must know, my Constance, I have
+just seized this happy opportunity of my friend's visit here to get
+admittance into the family. The horses that carried us down are now
+fatigued with their journey, but they'll soon be refreshed; and then,
+if my dearest girl will trust in her faithful Hastings, we shall soon
+be landed in France, where even among slaves the laws of marriage are
+respected.
+
+\9 I have often told you, that though ready to obey you, I
+yet should leave my little fortune behind with reluctance. The
+greatest part of it was left me by my uncle, the India director, and
+chiefly consists in jewels. I have been for some time persuading my
+aunt to let me wear them. I fancy I'm very near succeeding. The
+instant they are put into my possession, you shall find me ready to
+make them and myself yours.
+
+\4 Perish the baubles! Your person is all I desire. In the
+mean time, my friend Marlow must not be let into his mistake. I know
+the strange reserve of his temper is such, that if abruptly informed of
+it, he would instantly quit the house before our plan was ripe for
+execution.
+
+\9 But how shall we keep him in the deception? Miss
+Hardcastle is just returned from walking; what if we still continue to
+deceive him?------This, this way------\[r]They confer\]
+
+
+\(Enter \2\)
+
+
+\2 The assiduities of these good people teaze me beyond bearing.
+My host seems to think it ill manners to leave me alone, and so he
+claps not only himself, but his old-fashioned wife, on my back. They
+talk of coming to sup with us too; and then, I suppose, we are to run
+the gantlet through all the rest of the family.---What have we got here?
+
+\4 My dear Charles! Let me congratulate you!---The most
+fortunate accident!---Who do you think is just alighted?
+
+\2 Cannot guess.
+
+\4 Our mistresses, boy, Miss Hardcastle and Miss Neville.
+Give me leave to introduce Miss Constance Neville to your
+acquaintance. Happening to dine in the neighbourhood, they called on
+their return to take fresh horses here. Miss Hardcastle has just stept
+into the next room, and will be back in an instant. Wasn't it lucky?
+eh!
+
+\2 \[Aside\] I have been mortified enough of all conscience, and
+here comes something to complete my embarrassment.
+
+\4 Well, but wasn't it the most fortunate thing in the world?
+
+\2 Oh! yes. Very fortunate---a most joyful encounter---But our
+dresses, George, you know are in disorder---What if we should postpone
+the happiness till to-morrow?---To-morrow at her own house---It will be
+every bit as convenient---and rather more re\-spec\-tful---To-morrow let it
+be. \[r]Offering to go\]
+
+\9 By no means, sir. Your ceremony will displease her.
+The disorder of your dress will show the ardour of your impatience.
+Besides, she knows you are in the house, and will permit you to see
+her.
+
+\2 O! the devil! how shall I support it? Hem! hem! Hastings,
+you must not go. You are to assist me, you know. I shall be
+confoundedly ridiculous. Yet, hang it! I'll take courage. Hem!
+
+\4 Pshaw, man! it's but the first plunge, and all's over.
+She's but a woman, you know.
+
+\2 And, of all women, she that I dread most to encounter.
+
+
+\(Enter \8, as returned from walking, a bonnet, etc.\)
+
+
+\4 \[introducing them\] Miss Hardcastle, Mr. Marlow. I'm
+proud of bringing two persons of such merit together, that only want to
+know, to esteem each other.
+
+\8 \[Aside\] Now for meeting my modest gentleman with a
+demure face, and quite in his own manner. \[After a pause, in which he
+appears very uneasy and disconcerted\] I'm glad of your safe arrival,
+sir. I'm told you had some accidents by the way.
+
+\2 Only a few, madam. Yes, we had some. Yes, madam, a good many
+accidents, but should be sorry---madam---or rather glad of any
+accidents---that are so agreeably concluded. Hem!
+
+\4 \[To him\] You never spoke better in your whole life. Keep
+it up, and I'll insure you the victory.
+
+\8 I'm afraid you flatter, sir. You that have seen so
+much of the finest company, can find little entertainment in an obscure
+corner of the country.
+
+\2 \[Gathering courage\] I have lived, indeed, in the world,
+madam; but I have kept very little company. I have been but an
+observer upon life, madam, while others were enjoying it.
+
+\9 But that, I am told, is the way to enjoy it at last.
+
+\4 \[To him\] Cicero never spoke better. Once more, and you
+are confirmed in assurance for ever.
+
+\2 \[To him\] Hem! Stand by me, then, and when I'm down, throw
+in a word or two, to set me up again.
+
+\8 An observer, like you, upon life were, I fear,
+disagreeably employed, since you must have had much more to censure
+than to approve.
+
+\2 Pardon me, madam. I was always willing to be amused. The
+folly of most people is rather an object of mirth than uneasiness.
+
+\4 \[To him\] Bravo, bravo. Never spoke so well in your whole
+life. Well, Miss Hardcastle, I see that you and Mr. Marlow are going
+to be very good company. I believe our being here will but embarrass
+the interview.
+
+\2 Not in the least, Mr. Hastings. We like your company of all
+things. \[To him\] Zounds! George, sure you won't go? how can you
+leave us?
+
+\4 Our presence will but spoil conversation, so we'll retire to
+the next room. \[To him\] You don't consider, man, that we are to
+manage a little tete-a-tete of our own. \[r]Exeunt\]
+
+\8 \[after a pause\]. But you have not been wholly an
+observer, I presume, sir: the ladies, I should hope, have employed some
+part of your addresses.
+
+\2 \[Relapsing into timidity\] Pardon me, madam, I---I---I---as yet
+have studied---only---to---deserve them.
+
+\8 And that, some say, is the very worst way to obtain them.
+
+\2 Perhaps so, madam. But I love to converse only with the more
+grave and sensible part of the sex. But I'm afraid I grow tiresome.
+
+\8 Not at all, sir; there is nothing I like so much as
+grave conversation myself; I could hear it for ever. Indeed, I have
+often been surprised how a man of sentiment could ever admire those
+light airy pleasures, where nothing reaches the heart.
+
+\2 It's------a disease------of the mind, madam. In the variety of
+tastes there must be some who, wanting a relish------for------um---a---um.
+
+\8 I understand you, sir. There must be some, who,
+wanting a relish for refined pleasures, pretend to despise what they
+are incapable of tasting.
+
+\2 My meaning, madam, but infinitely better expressed. And I
+can't help observing------a------
+
+\8 \[Aside\] Who could ever suppose this fellow
+impudent upon some occasions? \[To him\] You were going to observe,
+sir------
+
+\2 I was observing, madam---I protest, madam, I forget what I was
+going to observe.
+
+\8 \[Aside\] I vow and so do I. \[To him\] You were
+observing, sir, that in this age of hypocrisy---something about
+hypocrisy, sir.
+
+\2 Yes, madam. In this age of hypocrisy there are few who upon
+strict inquiry do not---a---a---a---
+
+\8 I understand you perfectly, sir.
+
+\2 \[Aside\] Egad! and that's more than I do myself.
+
+\8 You mean that in this hypocritical age there are few
+that do not condemn in public what they practise in private, and think
+they pay every debt to virtue when they praise it.
+
+\2 True, madam; those who have most virtue in their mouths, have
+least of it in their bosoms. But I'm sure I tire you, madam.
+
+\8 Not in the least, sir; there's something so
+agreeable and spirited in your manner, such life and force---pray, sir,
+go on.
+
+\2 Yes, madam. I was saying------that there are some occasions,
+when a total want of courage, madam, destroys all the------and puts
+us------upon a---a---a---
+
+\8 I agree with you entirely; a want of courage upon
+some occasions assumes the appearance of ignorance, and betrays us when
+we most want to excel. I beg you'll proceed.
+
+\2 Yes, madam. Morally speaking, madam---But I see Miss Neville
+expecting us in the next room. I would not intrude for the world.
+
+\8 I protest, sir, I never was more agreeably
+entertained in all my life. Pray go on.
+
+\2 Yes, madam, I was------But she beckons us to join her. Madam,
+shall I do myself the honour to attend you?
+
+\8 Well, then, I'll follow.
+
+\2 \[Aside\] This pretty smooth dialogue has done for me.
+\[r]Exit\]
+
+\8 \[Alone\] Ha! ha! ha! Was there ever such a sober,
+sentimental interview? I'm certain he scarce looked in my face the
+whole time. Yet the fellow, but for his unaccountable bashfulness, is
+pretty well too. He has good sense, but then so buried in his fears,
+that it fatigues one more than ignorance. If I could teach him a
+little confidence, it would be doing somebody that I know of a piece of
+service. But who is that somebody?---That, faith, is a question I can
+scarce answer. \[r]Exit\]
+
+
+\(Enter \5 and \9, followed by \7 and \4\)
+
+
+\5 What do you follow me for, cousin Con? I wonder you're not
+ashamed to be so very engaging.
+
+\9 I hope, cousin, one may speak to one's own relations,
+and not be to blame.
+
+\5 Ay, but I know what sort of a relation you want to make me,
+though; but it won't do. I tell you, cousin Con, it won't do; so I beg
+you'll keep your distance, I want no nearer relationship.
+
+\[r]She follows, coquetting him to the back scene\]
+
+\7 Well! I vow, Mr. Hastings, you are very
+entertaining. There's nothing in the world I love to talk of so much
+as London, and the fashions, though I was never there myself.
+
+\4 Never there! You amaze me! From your air and manner, I
+concluded you had been bred all your life either at Ranelagh, St.
+James's, or Tower Wharf.
+
+\7 O! sir, you're only pleased to say so. We country
+persons can have no manner at all. I'm in love with the town, and that
+serves to raise me above some of our neighbouring rustics; but who can
+have a manner, that has never seen the Pantheon, the Grotto Gardens,
+the Borough, and such places where the nobility chiefly resort? All I
+can do is to enjoy London at second-hand. I take care to know every
+tete-a-tete from the Scandalous Magazine, and have all the fashions, as
+they come out, in a letter from the two Miss Rickets of Crooked Lane.
+Pray how do you like this head, Mr. Hastings?
+
+\4 Extremely elegant and degagee, upon my word, madam. Your
+friseur is a Frenchman, I suppose?
+
+\7 I protest, I dressed it myself from a print in the
+Ladies' Memorandum-book for the last year.
+
+\4 Indeed! Such a head in a side-box at the play-house would
+draw as many gazers as my Lady Mayoress at a City Ball.
+
+\7 I vow, since inoculation began, there is no such
+thing to be seen as a plain woman; so one must dress a little
+particular, or one may escape in the crowd.
+
+\4 But that can never be your case, madam, in any dress.
+\[Bowing\]
+
+\7 Yet, what signifies my dressing when I have such a
+piece of antiquity by my side as Mr. Hardcastle: all I can say will
+never argue down a single button from his clothes. I have often wanted
+him to throw off his great flaxen wig, and where he was bald, to
+plaster it over, like my Lord Pately, with powder.
+
+\4 You are right, madam; for, as among the ladies there are
+none ugly, so among the men there are none old.
+
+\7 But what do you think his answer was? Why, with his
+usual Gothic vivacity, he said I only wanted him to throw off his wig,
+to convert it into a tete for my own wearing.
+
+\4 Intolerable! At your age you may wear what you please, and
+it must become you.
+
+\7 Pray, Mr. Hastings, what do you take to be the most
+fashionable age about town?
+
+\4 Some time ago, forty was all the mode; but I'm told the
+ladies intend to bring up fifty for the ensuing winter.
+
+\7 Seriously. Then I shall be too young for the
+fashion.
+
+\4 No lady begins now to put on jewels till she's past forty.
+For instance, Miss there, in a polite circle, would be considered as a
+child, as a mere maker of samplers.
+
+\7 And yet Mrs. Niece thinks herself as much a woman,
+and is as fond of jewels, as the oldest of us all.
+
+\4 Your niece, is she? And that young gentleman, a brother of
+yours, I should presume?
+
+\7 My son, sir. They are contracted to each other.
+Observe their little sports. They fall in and out ten times a day, as
+if they were man and wife already. \[To them\] Well, Tony, child, what
+soft things are you saying to your cousin Constance this evening?
+
+\5 I have been saying no soft things; but that it's very hard to be
+followed about so. Ecod! I've not a place in the house now that's left
+to myself, but the stable.
+
+\7 Never mind him, Con, my dear. He's in another story
+behind your back.
+
+\9 There's something generous in my cousin's manner. He
+falls out before faces to be forgiven in private.
+
+\5 That's a damned confounded---crack.
+
+\7 Ah! he's a sly one. Don't you think they are like
+each other about the mouth, Mr. Hastings? The Blenkinsop mouth to a T.
+They're of a size too. Back to back, my pretties, that Mr. Hastings
+may see you. Come, Tony.
+
+\5 You had as good not make me, I tell you. \[Measuring\]
+
+\9 O lud! he has almost cracked my head.
+
+\7 O, the monster! For shame, Tony. You a man, and behave so!
+
+\5 If I'm a man, let me have my fortin. Ecod! I'll not be made a
+fool of no longer.
+
+\7 Is this, ungrateful boy, all that I'm to get for the
+pains I have taken in your education? I that have rocked you in your
+cradle, and fed that pretty mouth with a spoon! Did not I work that
+waistcoat to make you genteel? Did not I prescribe for you every day,
+and weep while the receipt was operating?
+
+\5 Ecod! you had reason to weep, for you have been dosing me ever
+since I was born. I have gone through every receipt in the Complete
+Huswife ten times over; and you have thoughts of coursing me through
+Quincy next spring. But, ecod! I tell you, I'll not be made a fool of
+no longer.
+
+\7 Wasn't it all for your good, viper? Wasn't it all for your good?
+
+\5 I wish you'd let me and my good alone, then. Snubbing this way
+when I'm in spirits. If I'm to have any good, let it come of itself;
+not to keep dinging it, dinging it into one so.
+
+\7 That's false; I never see you when you're in
+spirits. No, Tony, you then go to the alehouse or kennel. I'm never
+to be delighted with your agreeable wild notes, unfeeling monster!
+
+\5 Ecod! mamma, your own notes are the wildest of the two.
+
+\7 Was ever the like? But I see he wants to break my
+heart, I see he does.
+
+\4 Dear madam, permit me to lecture the young gentleman a
+little. I'm certain I can persuade him to his duty.
+
+\7 Well, I must retire. Come, Constance, my love. You
+see, Mr. Hastings, the wretchedness of my situation: was ever poor
+woman so plagued with a dear sweet, pretty, provoking, undutiful
+boy? \[r]Exeunt \7 and \9\]
+
+\5 \[Singing\] \textsl{There was a young man riding by, and fain would
+have his will. Rang do didlo dee}.------Don't mind her. Let her cry.
+It's the comfort of her heart. I have seen her and sister cry over a
+book for an hour together; and they said they liked the book the better
+the more it made them cry.
+
+\4 Then you're no friend to the ladies, I find, my pretty
+young gentleman?
+
+\5 That's as I find 'um.
+
+\4 Not to her of your mother's choosing, I dare answer? And
+yet she appears to me a pretty well-tempered girl.
+
+\5 That's because you don't know her as well as I. Ecod! I know
+every inch about her; and there's not a more bitter cantankerous toad
+in all Christendom.
+
+\4 \[Aside\] Pretty encouragement this for a lover!
+
+\5 I have seen her since the height of that. She has as many
+tricks as a hare in a thicket, or a colt the first day's breaking.
+
+\4 To me she appears sensible and silent.
+
+\5 Ay, before company. But when she's with her playmate, she's as
+loud as a hog in a gate.
+
+\4 But there is a meek modesty about her that charms me.
+
+\5 Yes, but curb her never so little, she kicks up, and you're
+flung in a ditch.
+
+\4 Well, but you must allow her a little beauty.---Yes, you must
+allow her some beauty.
+
+\5 Bandbox! She's all a made-up thing, mun. Ah! could you but see
+Bet Bouncer of these parts, you might then talk of beauty. Ecod, she
+has two eyes as black as sloes, and cheeks as broad and red as a pulpit
+cushion. She'd make two of she.
+
+\4 Well, what say you to a friend that would take this bitter
+bargain off your hands?
+
+\5 Anon.
+
+\4 Would you thank him that would take Miss Neville, and leave
+you to happiness and your dear Betsy?
+
+\5 Ay; but where is there such a friend, for who would take her?
+
+\4 I am he. If you but assist me, I'll engage to whip her off
+to France, and you shall never hear more of her.
+
+\5 Assist you! Ecod I will, to the last drop of my blood. I'll
+clap a pair of horses to your chaise that shall trundle you off in a
+twinkling, and may be get you a part of her fortin beside, in jewels,
+that you little dream of.
+
+\4 My dear 'squire, this looks like a lad of spirit.
+
+\5 Come along, then, and you shall see more of my spirit before you
+have done with me. \[singing\] \textsl{We are the boys
+That fears no noise
+Where the thundering cannons roar}. \[r]Exeunt\]
+
+
+
+\Act
+
+
+\(Enter \3, alone.\)
+
+
+\3 What could my old friend Sir Charles mean by recommending
+his son as the modestest young man in town? To me he appears the most
+impudent piece of brass that ever spoke with a tongue. He has taken
+possession of the easy chair by the fire-side 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.
+
+
+\(Enter \8, plainly dressed.\)
+
+
+\3 Well, my Kate, I see you have changed your dress, as I
+bade you; and yet, I believe, there was no great occasion.
+
+\8 I find such a pleasure, sir, in obeying your
+commands, that I take care to observe them without ever debating their
+propriety.
+
+\3 And yet, Kate, I sometimes give you some cause,
+particularly when I recommended my modest gentleman to you as a lover
+to-day.
+
+\8 You taught me to expect something extraordinary, and
+I find the original exceeds the description.
+
+\3 I was never so surprised in my life! He has quite
+confounded all my faculties!
+
+\8 I never saw anything like it: and a man of the world
+too!
+
+\3 Ay, he learned it all abroad---what a fool was I, to think
+a young man could learn modesty by travelling. He might as soon learn
+wit at a masquerade.
+
+\8 It seems all natural to him.
+
+\3 A good deal assisted by bad company and a French danc\-ing-master.
+
+{\nonfrenchspacing
+\8 Sure you mistake, papa! A French dancing-master
+could never have taught him that timid look,---that awkward
+address,---that bashful manner---
+
+}
+
+\3 Whose look? whose manner, child?
+
+\8 Mr. Marlow's: his mauvaise honte, his timidity,
+struck me at the first sight.
+
+\3 Then your first sight deceived you; for I think him one of
+the most brazen first sights that ever astonished my senses.
+
+\8 Sure, sir, you rally! I never saw any one so
+modest.
+
+\3 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.
+
+\8 Surprising! He met me with a respectful bow, a
+stammering voice, and a look fixed on the ground.
+
+\3 He met me with a loud voice, a lordly air, and a
+familiarity that made my blood freeze again.
+
+\8 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; then left the room
+with a bow, and ``Madam, I would not for the world detain you.''
+
+\3 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 had not a good
+hand at making punch. Yes, Kate, he asked your father if he was a
+maker of punch!
+
+\8 One of us must certainly be mistaken.
+
+\3 If he be what he has shown himself, I'm determined he
+shall never have my consent.
+
+\8 And if he be the sullen thing I take him, he shall
+never have mine.
+
+\3 In one thing then we are agreed---to reject him.
+
+\8 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 for a
+man---Certainly, we don't meet many such at a horse-race in the country.
+
+\3 If we should find him so------But that's impossible. The
+first appearance has done my business. I'm seldom deceived in that.
+
+\8 And yet there may be many good qualities under that
+first appearance.
+
+\3 Ay, when a girl finds a fellow's outside to her taste, she
+then sets about guessing the rest of his furniture. With her, a smooth
+face stands for good sense, and a genteel figure for every virtue.
+
+\8 I hope, sir, a conversation begun with a compliment
+to my good sense, won't end with a sneer at my understanding?
+
+\3 Pardon me, Kate. But if young Mr. Brazen can find the art
+of reconciling contradictions, he may please us both, perhaps.
+
+\8 And as one of us must be mistaken, what if we go to
+make further discoveries?
+
+\3 Agreed. But depend on't I'm in the right.
+
+\8 And depend on't I'm not much in the wrong.
+\[r]Exeunt\]
+
+
+\(Enter Tony, running in with a casket.\)
+
+
+\5 Ecod! I have got them. Here they are. My cousin Con's
+necklaces, bobs and all. My mother shan't cheat the poor souls out of
+their fortin neither. O! my genus, is that you?
+
+
+\(Enter \4\)
+
+
+\4 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.
+
+\5 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.
+
+\4 But how have you procured them from your mother?
+
+\5 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.
+
+\4 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 succeeds, it will be the most delicate way at least of
+obtaining them.
+
+\5 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.
+
+\4 But I dread the effects of her resentment, when she finds
+she has lost them.
+
+\5 Never you mind her resentment, leave \textit{me} to manage that. I
+don't value her resentment the bounce of a cracker. Zounds! here they
+are. Morrice! Prance! \[r]Exit \4\]
+
+
+\(Enter \7 and \9\)
+
+
+\7 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.
+
+\9 But what will repair beauty at forty, will certainly
+improve it at twenty, madam.
+
+\7 Yours, 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-daylight, and Mrs. Crump, and the rest of them, carry their
+jewels to town, and bring nothing but paste and marcasites back.
+
+\9 But who knows, madam, but somebody that shall be
+nameless would like me best with all my little finery about me?
+
+\7 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?
+
+\5 That's as thereafter may be.
+
+\9 My dear aunt, if you knew how it would oblige me.
+
+\7 A parcel of old-fashioned rose and table-cut 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.
+
+\5 \[Apart to \7\] 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.
+
+\7 \[Apart to \5\] 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!
+
+\5 Never fear me. Ecod! I'll say I saw them taken out with my own
+eyes.
+
+\9 I desire them but for a day, madam. Just to be
+permitted to show them as relics, and then they may be locked up
+again.
+
+\7 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.
+
+\9 I'll not believe it! this is but a shallow pretence to
+deny me. I know they are too valuable to be so slightly kept, and as
+you are to answer for the loss---
+
+\7 Don't be alarmed, Constance. If they be lost, I must
+restore an equivalent. But my son knows they are missing, and not to
+be found.
+
+\5 That I can bear witness to. They are missing, and not to be
+found; I'll take my oath on't.
+
+\7 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.
+
+\9 Ay, people are generally calm at the misfortunes of
+others.
+
+\7 Now I wonder a girl of your good sense should waste a
+thought upon such trumpery. We shall soon find them; and in the mean
+time you shall make use of my garnets till your jewels be found.
+
+\9 I detest garnets.
+
+\7 The most becoming things in the world to set off a
+clear complexion. You have often seen how well they look upon me. You
+\textit{shall} have them. \[r]Exit\]
+
+\9 I dislike them of all things. You shan't stir.---Was
+ever anything so provoking, to mislay my own jewels, and force me to
+wear her trumpery?
+
+\5 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.
+
+\9 My dear cousin!
+
+\5 Vanish. She's here, and has missed them already. \[r]Exit \9\]
+Zounds! how she fidgets and spits about like a Catherine wheel.
+
+
+\(Enter \7\)
+
+
+\7 Confusion! thieves! robbers! we are cheated,
+plundered, broke open, undone.
+
+\5 What's the matter, what's the matter, mamma? I hope nothing has
+happened to any of the good family!
+
+\7 We are robbed. My bureau has been broken open, the
+jewels taken out, and I'm undone.
+
+\5 Oh! is that all? Ha! ha! ha! By the laws, I never saw it
+acted better in my life. Ecod, I thought you was ruined in earnest,
+ha! ha! ha!
+
+\7 Why, boy, I \textit{am} ruined in earnest. My bureau has been
+broken open, and all taken away.
+
+\5 Stick to that: ha! ha! ha! stick to that. I'll bear witness,
+you know; call me to bear witness.
+
+\7 I tell you, Tony, by all that's precious, the jewels
+are gone, and I shall be ruined for ever.
+
+\5 Sure I know they're gone, and I'm to say so.
+
+\7 My dearest Tony, but hear me. They're gone, I say.
+
+\5 By the laws, mamma, you make me for to laugh, ha! ha! I know
+who took them well enough, ha! ha! ha!
+
+\7 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.
+
+\5 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.
+
+\7 Was there ever such a cross-grained brute, that
+won't hear me? 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?
+
+\5 I can bear witness to that.
+
+\7 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 enjoyed my distress?
+
+\5 I can bear witness to that.
+
+\7 Do you insult me, monster? I'll teach you to vex
+your mother, I will.
+
+\5 I can bear witness to that. [He runs off, she follows him.]
+
+
+\(Enter \8 and \10.\)
+
+
+\8 What an unaccountable creature is that brother of
+mine, to send them to the house as an inn! ha! ha! I don't wonder at
+his impudence.
+
+\10 But what is more, madam, the young gentleman, as you passed by
+in your present dress, asked me if you were the bar-maid. He mistook
+you for the bar-maid, madam.
+
+\8 Did he? Then as I live, I'm resolved to keep up the
+delusion. Tell me, Pimple, how do you like my present dress? Don't
+you think I look something like Cherry in the Beaux Stratagem?
+
+\10 It's the dress, madam, that every lady wears in the country, but
+when she visits or receives company.
+
+\8 And are you sure he does not remember my face or
+person?
+
+\10 Certain of it.
+
+\8 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.
+
+\10 But what do you hope from keeping him in his mistake?
+
+\8 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 wildest 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.
+
+\10 But you are sure you can act your part, and disguise your voice
+so that he may mistake that, as he has already mistaken your person?
+
+\8 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.
+
+\10 It will do, madam. But he's here. \[r]Exit \10\]
+
+
+\(Enter \2\)
+
+
+\2 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. [Walks and muses.]
+
+\8 Did you call, sir? Did your honour call?
+
+\2 \[Musing\] As for Miss Hardcastle, she's too grave and
+sentimental for me.
+
+\8 Did your honour call? \[She still places herself
+before him, he turning away\]
+
+\2 No, child. \[Musing\] Besides, from the glimpse I had of her,
+I think she squints.
+
+\8 I'm sure, sir, I heard the bell ring.
+
+\2 No, no. \[Musing\] I have pleased my father, however, by
+coming down, and I'll to-morrow please myself by returning. \[Taking
+out his tablets, and perusing\]
+
+\8 Perhaps the other gentleman called, sir?
+
+\2 I tell you, no.
+
+\8 I should be glad to know, sir. We have such a
+parcel of servants!
+
+\2 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.
+
+\8 O la, sir, you'll make one ashamed.
+
+\2 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?
+
+\8 No, sir, we have been out of that these ten days.
+
+\2 One may call in this house, I find, to very little purpose.
+Suppose I should call for a taste, just by way of a trial, of the
+nectar of your lips; perhaps I might be disappointed in that too.
+
+\8 Nectar! nectar! That's a liquor there's no call for
+in these parts. French, I suppose. We sell no French wines here, sir.
+
+\2 Of true English growth, I assure you.
+
+\8 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.
+
+\2 Eighteen years! Why, one would think, child, you kept the bar
+before you were born. How old are you?
+
+\8 O! sir, I must not tell my age. They say women and
+music should never be dated.
+
+\2 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---\[attempting to kiss her\].
+
+\8 Pray, sir, keep your distance. One would think you
+wanted to know one's age, as they do horses, by mark of mouth.
+
+\2 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?
+
+\8 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 obstropalous manner. I'll warrant
+me, before her you looked dashed, and kept bowing to the ground, and
+talked, for all the world, as if you was before a justice of peace.
+
+\2 \[Aside\] Egad, she has hit it, sure enough! \[To her\] 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!
+
+\8 O! then, sir, you are a favourite, I find, among the
+ladies?
+
+\2 Yes, my dear, a great favourite. And yet hang me, I don't see
+what they find 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. \[Offering to salute her\]
+
+\8 Hold, sir; you are introducing me to your club, not
+to yourself. And you're so great a favourite there, you say?
+
+\2 Yes, my dear. There's Mrs. Mantrap, Lady Betty Blackleg, the
+Countess of Sligo, Mrs. Langhorns, old Miss Biddy Buckskin, and your
+humble servant, keep up the spirit of the place.
+
+\8 Then it's a very merry place, I suppose?
+
+\2 Yes, as merry as cards, supper, wine, and old women can make
+us.
+
+\8 And their agreeable Rattle, ha! ha! ha!
+
+\2 \[Aside\] Egad! I don't quite like this chit. She looks
+knowing, methinks. You laugh, child?
+
+\8 I can't but laugh, to think what time they all have
+for minding their work or their family.
+
+\2 \[Aside\] All's well; she don't laugh at me. \[To her\] Do
+you ever work, child?
+
+\8 Ay, sure. There's not a screen or quilt in the
+whole house but what can bear witness to that.
+
+\2 Odso! then you must show me your embroidery. I embroider and
+draw patterns myself a little. If you want a judge of your work, you
+must apply to me. \[Seizing her hand\]
+
+\8 Ay, but the colours do not look well by candlelight.
+You shall see all in the morning. \[Struggling\]
+
+\2 And why not now, my angel? Such beauty fires beyond the
+power of resistance.---Pshaw! the father here! My old luck: I never
+nicked seven that I did not throw ames ace three times following.
+\[r]Exit \2\]
+
+
+\(Enter \3, who stands in surprise.\)
+
+
+\3 So, madam. So, I find \textit{this} is your \textit{modest} lover. This is
+your humble admirer, that kept his eyes fixed on the ground, and only
+adored at humble distance. Kate, Kate, art thou not ashamed to deceive
+your father so?
+
+\8 Never trust me, dear papa, but he's still the modest
+man I first took him for; you'll be convinced of it as well as I.
+
+\3 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 milkmaid? And now you talk of his respect and his
+modesty, forsooth!
+
+\8 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.
+
+\3 The girl would actually make one run mad! I tell you,
+I'll not be convinced. I am convinced. He has scarce 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.
+
+\8 Sir, I ask but this night to convince you.
+
+\3 You shall not have half the time, for I have thoughts of
+turning him out this very hour.
+
+\8 Give me that hour then, and I hope to satisfy you.
+
+\3 Well, an hour let it be then. But I'll have no trifling
+with your father. All fair and open, do you mind me.
+
+\8 I hope, sir, you have ever found that I considered
+your commands as my pride; for your kindness is such, that my duty as
+yet has been inclination. \[r]Exeunt\]
+
+
+
+\Act
+
+
+\(Enter \4 and \9\)
+
+
+\4 You surprise me; Sir Charles Marlow expected here this
+night! Where have you had your information?
+
+\9 You may depend upon it. I just saw his letter to Mr.
+Hardcastle, in which he tells him he intends setting out a few hours
+after his son.
+
+\4 Then, my Constance, all must be completed before he
+arrives. He knows me; and should he find me here, would discover my
+name, and perhaps my designs, to the rest of the family.
+
+\9 The jewels, I hope, are safe?
+
+\4 Yes, yes, I have sent them to Marlow, who keeps the keys of
+our baggage. In the mean time, I'll go to prepare matters for our
+elopement. I have had the 'squire's promise of a fresh pair of horses;
+and if I should not see him again, will write him further directions.
+\[r]Exit\]
+
+\9 Well! success attend you. In the mean time I'll go and
+amuse my aunt with the old pretence of a violent passion for my cousin.
+\[r]Exit\]
+
+
+\(Enter \2, followed by a \12.\)
+
+
+\2 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?
+
+\12 Yes, your honour.
+
+\2 She said she'd keep it safe, did she?
+
+\12 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. \[r]Exit \12\]
+
+\2 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.
+
+
+\(Enter \4\)
+
+
+\4 Bless me! I quite forgot to tell her that I intended to
+prepare at the bottom of the garden. Marlow here, and in spirits too!
+
+\2 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.
+
+\4 Some women, you mean. But what success has your honour's
+modesty been crowned with now, that it grows so insolent upon us?
+
+\2 Didn't you see the tempting, brisk, lovely little thing, that
+runs about the house with a bunch of keys to its girdle?
+
+\4 Well, and what then?
+
+\2 She's mine, you rogue you. Such fire, such motion, such
+eyes, such lips; but, egad! she would not let me kiss them though.
+
+\4 But are you so sure, so very sure of her?
+
+\2 Why, man, she talked of showing me her work above stairs, and
+I am to improve the pattern.
+
+\4 But how can you, Charles, go about to rob a woman of her
+honour?
+
+\2 Pshaw! pshaw! 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 shan't honestly pay for.
+
+\4 I believe the girl has virtue.
+
+\2 And if she has, I should be the last man in the world that
+would attempt to corrupt it.
+
+\4 You have taken care, I hope, of the casket I sent you to
+lock up? Is it in safety?
+
+\2 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! numskull! I have taken better precautions for you than
+you did for yourself------I have------
+
+\4 What?
+
+\2 I have sent it to the landlady to keep for you.
+
+\4 To the landlady!
+
+\2 The landlady.
+
+\4 You did?
+
+\2 I did. She's to be answerable for its forthcoming, you know.
+
+\4 Yes, she'll bring it forth with a witness.
+
+\2 Wasn't I right? I believe you'll allow that I acted
+prudently upon this occasion.
+
+\4 \[Aside\] He must not see my uneasiness.
+
+\2 You seem a little disconcerted though, methinks. Sure
+nothing has happened?
+
+\4 No, nothing. Never was in better spirits in all my life.
+And so you left it with the landlady, who, no doubt, very readily
+undertook the charge.
+
+\2 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!
+
+\4 He! he! he! They're safe, however.
+
+\2 As a guinea in a miser's purse.
+
+\4 \[Aside\] So now all hopes of fortune are at an end, and we
+must set off without it. \[To him\] Well, Charles, I'll leave you to
+your meditations on the pretty bar-maid, and, he! he! he! may you be as
+successful for yourself, as you have been for me! \[r]Exit\]
+
+\2 Thank ye, George: I ask no more. Ha! ha! ha!
+
+
+\(Enter \3\)
+
+
+\3 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, from my respect for his father, I'll be calm. \[To
+him\] Mr. Marlow, your servant. I'm your very humble servant.
+\[Bowing low\]
+
+\2 Sir, your humble servant. \[Aside\] What's to be the wonder
+now?
+
+\3 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?
+
+\2 I do from my soul, sir. I don't want much entreaty. I
+generally make my father's son welcome wherever he goes.
+
+\3 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.
+
+\2 I protest, my very good sir, that is 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. \[To the side scene\] Here,
+let one of my servants come up. \[To him\] My positive directions
+were, that as I did not drink myself, they should make up for my
+deficiencies below.
+
+\3 Then they had your orders for what they do? I'm
+satisfied!
+
+\2 They had, I assure you. You shall hear from one of
+themselves.
+
+
+\(Enter \12, drunk.\)
+
+
+\2 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?
+
+\3 \[Aside\] I begin to lose my patience.
+
+\persona{Jeremy} Please your honour, liberty and Fleet-street for ever!
+Though I'm but a servant, I'm as good as another man. I'll drink for
+no man before supper, sir, damme! Good liquor will sit upon a good
+supper, but a good supper will not sit upon------hiccup------on my
+conscience, sir.
+
+\2 You see, my old friend, the fellow is as drunk as he can
+possibly be. I don't know what you'd have more, unless you'd have the
+poor devil soused in a beer-barrel.
+
+\3 Zounds! he'll drive me distracted, if I contain myself any
+longer. 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 resolved to be master here, sir; and I desire that you and your
+drunken pack may leave my house directly.
+
+\2 Leave your house!------Sure you jest, my good friend! What?
+when I'm doing what I can to please you.
+
+\3 I tell you, sir, you don't please me; so I desire you'll
+leave my house.
+
+\2 Sure you cannot be serious? At this time o' night, and such a
+night? You only mean to banter me.
+
+\3 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.
+
+\2 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 met with such
+impudence, curse me; never in my whole life before.
+
+\3 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 here's a pair of
+brazen-nosed bellows; perhaps you may take a fancy to them?
+
+\2 Bring me your bill, sir; bring me your bill, and let's make no
+more words about it.
+
+\3 There are a set of prints, too. What think you of the
+Rake's Progress, for your own apartment?
+
+\2 Bring me your bill, I say; and I'll leave you and your
+infernal house directly.
+
+\3 Then there's a mahogany table that you may see your own
+face in.
+
+\2 My bill, I say.
+
+\3 I had forgot the great chair for your own particular
+slumbers, after a hearty meal.
+
+\2 Zounds! bring me my bill, I say, and let's hear no more on't.
+
+\3 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. \[r]Exit\]
+
+\2 How's this? Sure I have not mistaken the house. Everything
+looks like an inn. The servants cry, coming; the attendance is
+awkward; the bar-maid, too, to attend us. But she's here, and will
+further inform me. Whither so fast, child? A word with you.
+
+
+\(Enter \8\)
+
+
+\8 Let it be short, then. I'm in a hurry. \[Aside\] I
+believe be begins to find out his mistake. But it's too soon quite to
+undeceive him.
+
+\2 Pray, child, answer me one question. What are you, and what
+may your business in this house be?
+
+\8 A relation of the family, sir.
+
+\2 What, a poor relation.
+
+\8 Yes, sir. A poor relation, appointed to keep the
+keys, and to see that the guests want nothing in my power to give them.
+
+\2 That is, you act as the bar-maid of this inn.
+
+\8 Inn! O law------what brought that in your head? One
+of the best families in the country keep an inn---Ha! ha! ha! old Mr.
+Hardcastle's house an inn!
+
+\2 Mr. Hardcastle's house! Is this Mr. Hardcastle's house,
+child?
+
+\8 Ay, sure! Whose else should it be?
+
+\2 So then, all's out, and I have been damnably imposed on. O,
+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
+\textit{Dullissimo Maccaroni}. To mistake this house of all others for an inn, and my
+father's old friend for an innkeeper! 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.
+
+\8 Dear me! dear me! I'm sure there's nothing in my
+\textit{behaviour} to put me on a level with one of that stamp.
+
+\2 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 over. This house I no more
+show \textit{my} face in.
+
+\8 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 if people said anything amiss, since I have no
+fortune but my character.
+
+\2 \[Aside\] By Heaven! she weeps. This is the first mark of
+tenderness I ever had from a modest woman, and it touches me. \[To
+her\] 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, of bringing ruin upon one whose only fault
+was being too lovely.
+
+\8 \[Aside\] Generous man! I now begin to admire him.
+\[To him\] But I am 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.
+
+\2 And why now, my pretty simplicity?
+
+\8 Because it puts me at a distance from one that, if I
+had a thousand pounds, I would give it all to.
+
+\2 \[Aside\] This simplicity bewitches me, so that if I stay, I'm
+undone. I must make one bold effort, and leave her. \[To her\] Your
+partiality in my favour, my dear, touches me most sensibly: and were I
+to live for myself alone, I could easily fix my choice. But I owe too
+much to the opinion of the world, too much to the authority of a
+father; so that---I can scarcely speak it---it affects me. Farewell.
+\[r]Exit\]
+
+\8 I never knew half his merit till now. He shall not
+go, if I have power or art to detain him. I'll still preserve the
+character in which \textit{i stooped to conquer}; but will undeceive my papa,
+who perhaps may laugh him out of his resolution. \[r]Exit\]
+
+
+\(Enter Tony and \9\)
+
+
+\5 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.
+
+\9 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.
+
+\5 To be sure, aunts of all kinds are damned 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.]
+
+
+\(Enter \7\)
+
+
+\7 Well, I was greatly fluttered, to be sure. But my
+son tells me it was all a mistake of the servants. I shan'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'm alive. I never
+saw Tony so sprightly before. Ah! have I caught you, my pretty doves?
+What, billing, exchanging stolen glances and broken murmurs? Ah!
+
+\5 As for murmurs, mother, we grumble a little now and then, to be
+sure. But there's no love lost between us.
+
+\7 A mere sprinkling, Tony, upon the flame, only to make
+it burn brighter.
+
+\9 Cousin Tony promises to give us more of his company at
+home. Indeed, he shan't leave us any more. It won't leave us, cousin
+Tony, will it?
+
+\5 O! it's a pretty creature. No, I'd sooner leave my horse in a
+pound, than leave you when you smile upon one so. Your laugh makes you
+so becoming.
+
+\9 Agreeable cousin! Who can help admiring that natural
+humour, that pleasant, broad, red, thoughtless \[patting his cheek\]---ah!
+it's a bold face.
+
+\7 Pretty innocence!
+
+\5 I'm sure I always loved cousin Con.'s hazle eyes, and her
+pretty long fingers, that she twists this way and that over the
+haspicholls, like a parcel of bobbins.
+
+\7 Ah! he would charm the bird from the tree. I was
+never 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.
+
+
+\(Enter \6\)
+
+
+\6 Where's the 'squire? I have got a letter for your worship.
+
+\5 Give it to my mamma. She reads all my letters first.
+
+\6 I had orders to deliver it into your own hands.
+
+\5 Who does it come from?
+
+\6 Your worship mun ask that o' the letter itself.
+
+\5 I could wish to know though \[turning the letter, and gazing on
+it\].
+
+\9 \[Aside\] 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. \[To \3\] But I have not told you, madam, of my cousin's smart
+answer just now to Mr. Marlow. We so laughed.---You must know,
+madam.---This way a little, for he must not hear us. [They confer.]
+
+\5 \[Still gazing\] A damned cramp piece of penmanship, as ever I
+saw in my life. I can read your print hand very well. But here are
+such handles, and shanks, and dashes, that one can scarce tell the head
+from the tail.---``To Anthony Lumpkin, Esquire.'' 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's all------buzz. That's hard, very hard; for
+the inside of the letter is always the cream of the correspondence.
+
+\7 Ha! ha! ha! Very well, very well. And so my son was
+too hard for the philosopher.
+
+\9 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.
+
+\7 He seems strangely puzzled now himself, methinks.
+
+\5 \[Still gazing\] A damned up and down hand, as if it was
+disguised in liquor.---\[Reading\] Dear Sir,---ay, that's that. Then
+there's an M, and a T, and an S, but whether the next be an izzard, or
+an R, confound me, I cannot tell.
+
+\7 What's that, my dear? Can I give you any
+assistance?
+
+\9 Pray, aunt, let me read it. Nobody reads a cramp hand
+better than I. \[Twitching the letter from him\] Do you know who it is
+from?
+
+\5 Can't tell, except from Dick Ginger, the feeder.
+
+\9 Ay, so it is. \[Pretending to read\] Dear 'Squire,
+hoping that you're in health, as I am at this present. The gentlemen
+of the Shake-bag club has cut the gentlemen of 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. \[Thrusting the crumpled letter upon him\]
+
+\5 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! \[Giving \7 the letter\]
+
+\7 How's this?---\[Reads\] ``Dear 'Squire, I'm now
+waiting for Miss Neville, with a post-chaise and pair, at the bottom of
+the garden, but I find my horses yet unable to perform the journey. I
+expect you'll assist us with a pair of fresh horses, as you promised.
+Dispatch is necessary, as the \textit{hag} (ay, the hag), your mother, will
+otherwise suspect us! Yours, Hastings.'' Grant me patience. I shall
+run distracted! My rage chokes me.
+
+\9 I hope, madam, you'll suspend your resentment for a few
+moments, and not impute to me any impertinence, or sinister design,
+that belongs to another.
+
+\7 \[Curtseying very low\] 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 \textit{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 show you, that I wish you
+better than you do yourselves. \[r]Exit\]
+
+\9 So now I'm completely ruined.
+
+\5 Ay, that's a sure thing.
+
+\9 What better could be expected from being connected with
+such a stupid fool,---and after all the nods and signs I made him?
+
+\5 By the laws, miss, it was your own cleverness, and not my
+stupidity, that did your business. You were so nice and so busy with
+your Shake-bags and Goose-greens, that I thought you could never be
+making believe.
+
+
+\(Enter \4\)
+
+
+\4 So, sir, I find by my servant, that you have shown my
+letter, and betrayed us. Was this well done, young gentleman?
+
+\5 Here's another. Ask miss there, who betrayed you. Ecod, it was
+her doing, not mine.
+
+
+\(Enter \2\)
+
+
+\2 So I have been finely used here among you. Rendered
+contemptible, driven into ill manners, despised, insulted, laughed at.
+
+\5 Here's another. We shall have old Bedlam broke loose
+presently.
+
+\9 And there, sir, is the gentleman to whom we all owe
+every obligation.
+
+\2 What can I say to him, a mere boy, an idiot, whose ignorance
+and age are a protection?
+
+\4 A poor contemptible booby, that would but disgrace
+correction.
+
+\9 Yet with cunning and malice enough to make himself
+merry with all our embarrassments.
+
+\4 An insensible cub.
+
+\2 Replete with tricks and mischief.
+
+\5 Baw! damme, but I'll fight you both, one after the
+other------with baskets.
+
+\2 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.
+
+\4 Tortured as I am with my own disappointments, is this a time
+for explanations? It is not friendly, Mr. Marlow.
+
+\2 But, sir------
+
+\9 Mr. Marlow, we never kept on your mistake till it was
+too late to undeceive you.
+
+
+\(Enter \12.\)
+
+
+\12 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 to go thirty miles before morning. \[r]Exit \12\]
+
+\9 Well, well: I'll come presently.
+
+\2 \[To \4\] Was it well done, sir, to assist in rendering
+me ridiculous? To hang me out for the scorn of all my acquaintance?
+Depend upon it, sir, I shall expect an explanation.
+
+\4 Was it well done, sir, if you're upon that subject, to
+deliver what I entrusted to yourself, to the care of another sir?
+
+\9 Mr. Hastings! Mr. Marlow! Why will you increase my
+distress by this groundless dispute? I implore, I entreat you------
+
+
+\(Enter \12.\)
+
+
+\12 Your cloak, madam. My mistress is impatient. \[r]Exit \12\]
+
+\9 I come. Pray be pacified. If I leave you thus, I
+shall die with apprehension.
+
+
+\(Enter \12.\)
+
+
+\12 Your fan, muff, and gloves, madam. The horses are waiting.
+
+\9 O, 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.
+
+\2 I'm so distracted with a variety of passions, that I don't
+know what I do. Forgive me, madam. George, forgive me. You know my
+hasty temper, and should not exasperate it.
+
+\4 The torture of my situation is my only excuse.
+
+\9 Well, my dear Hastings, if you have that esteem for me
+that I think, that I am sure you have, your constancy for three years
+will but increase the happiness of our future connexion. If------
+
+\7 \[Within\] Miss Neville. Constance, why Constance, I
+say.
+
+\9 I'm coming. Well, constancy, remember, constancy is the
+word. \[r]Exit\]
+
+\4 My heart! how can I support this? To be so near happiness,
+and such happiness!
+
+\2 \[To Tony\] You see now, young gentleman, the effects of your
+folly. What might be amusement to you, is here disappointment, and
+even distress.
+
+\5 \[From a reverie\] Ecod, I have hit it. It's here. Your
+hands. Yours and yours, my poor Sulky!---My boots there, ho!---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. My boots, ho! \[r]Exeunt\]
+
+
+
+\Act
+
+
+\((\01 continued.)\)
+
+
+\(Enter \4 and \12.\)
+
+
+\4 You saw the old lady and Miss Neville drive off, you say?
+
+\12 Yes, your honour. They went off in a post-coach, and the
+young 'squire went on horseback. They're thirty miles off by this
+time.
+
+\4 Then all my hopes are over.
+
+\12 Yes, sir. Old Sir Charles has arrived. He and the old
+gentleman of the house have been laughing at Mr. Marlow's mistake this
+half hour. They are coming this way.
+
+\4 Then I must not be seen. So now to my fruitless
+appointment at the bottom of the garden. This is about the time.
+\[r]Exit\]
+
+
+\(Enter \1 and \3\)
+
+
+\3 Ha! ha! ha! The peremptory tone in which he sent forth
+his sublime commands!
+
+\1 And the reserve with which I suppose he treated all your
+advances.
+
+\3 And yet he might have seen something in me above a common
+innkeeper, too.
+
+\1 Yes, Dick, but he mistook you for an uncommon innkeeper,
+ha! ha! ha!
+
+\3 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---
+
+\1 Why, Dick, will you talk of fortune to \textit{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---
+
+\3 \textit{If}, man! I tell you they \textit{do} like each other. My
+daughter as good as told me so.
+
+\1 But girls are apt to flatter themselves, you know.
+
+\3 I saw him grasp her hand in the warmest manner myself; and
+here he comes to put you out of your \textit{ifs}, I warrant him.
+
+
+\(Enter \2\)
+
+
+\2 I come, sir, once more, to ask pardon for my strange conduct.
+I can scarce reflect on my insolence without confusion.
+
+\3 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.
+
+\2 Sir, I shall be always proud of her approbation.
+
+\3 Approbation is but a cold word, Mr. Marlow; if I am not
+deceived, you have something more than approbation thereabouts. You
+take me?
+
+\2 Really, sir, I have not that happiness.
+
+\3 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.
+
+\2 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.
+
+\3 Impudence! No, I don't say that---not quite
+impudence---though girls like to be played with, and rumpled a little
+too, sometimes. But she has told no tales, I assure you.
+
+\2 I never gave her the slightest cause.
+
+\3 Well, well, I like modesty in its place well enough. But
+this is over-acting, young gentleman. You may be open. Your father
+and I will like you all the better for it.
+
+\2 May I die, sir, if I ever------
+
+\3 I tell you, she don't dislike you; and as I'm sure you
+like her------
+
+\2 Dear sir---I protest, sir------
+
+\3 I see no reason why you should not be joined as fast as
+the parson can tie you.
+
+\2 But hear me, sir---
+
+\3 Your father approves the match, I admire it; every
+moment's delay will be doing mischief. So---
+
+\2 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.
+
+\3 \[Aside\] This fellow's formal modest impudence is be\-yond
+bearing.
+
+\1 And you never grasped her hand, or made any
+protestations?
+
+\2 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 farther proofs of my duty, nor
+prevent me from leaving a house in which I suffer so many
+mortifications. \[r]Exit\]
+
+\1 I'm astonished at the air of sincerity with which he
+parted.
+
+\3 And I'm astonished at the deliberate intrepidity of his
+assurance.
+
+\1 I dare pledge my life and honour upon his truth.
+
+\3 Here comes my daughter, and I would stake my happiness
+upon her veracity.
+
+
+\(Enter \8\)
+
+
+\3 Kate, come hither, child. Answer us sincerely and
+without reserve: has Mr. Marlow made you any professions of love and
+affection?
+
+\8 The question is very abrupt, sir. But since you
+require unreserved sincerity, I think he has.
+
+\3 \[To \1\] You see.
+
+\1 And pray, madam, have you and my son had more than one
+interview?
+
+\8 Yes, sir, several.
+
+\3 \[To \1\] You see.
+
+\1 But did be profess any attachment?
+
+\8 A lasting one.
+
+\1 Did he talk of love?
+
+\8 Much, sir.
+
+\1 Amazing! And all this formally?
+
+\8 Formally.
+
+\3 Now, my friend, I hope you are satisfied.
+
+\1 And how did he behave, madam?
+
+\8 As most profest 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.
+
+\1 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 am confident,
+he never sat for the picture.
+
+\8 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.
+
+\1 Agreed. And if I find him what you describe, all my
+happiness in him must have an end. \[r]Exit\]
+
+\8 And if you don't find him what I describe---I fear my
+happiness must never have a beginning. \[r]Exeunt\]
+
+
+\(\01 changes to the back of the Garden.\)
+
+
+\(Enter \4\)
+
+
+\4 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 perhaps with
+news of my Constance.
+
+
+\(Enter Tony, booted and spattered.\)
+
+
+\4 My honest 'squire! I now find you a man of your word.
+This looks like friendship.
+
+\5 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 bye, is cursedly
+tiresome. It has shook me worse than the basket of a stage-coach.
+
+\4 But how? where did you leave your fellow-travellers? Are
+they in safety? Are they housed?
+
+\5 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.
+
+\4 Well, but where have you left the ladies? I die with
+impatience.
+
+\5 Left them! Why where should I leave them but where I found
+them?
+
+\4 This is a riddle.
+
+\5 Riddle me this then. What's that goes round the house, and
+round the house, and never touches the house?
+
+\4 I'm still astray.
+
+\5 Why, that's it, mon. I have led them astray. By jingo,
+there's not a pond or a slough within five miles of the place but they
+can tell the taste of.
+
+\4 Ha! ha! ha! I understand: you took them in a round, while
+they supposed themselves going forward, and so you have at last brought
+them home again.
+
+\5 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 of
+Up-and-down 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.
+
+\4 But no accident, I hope?
+
+\5 No, no. Only mother is confoundedly frightened. She thinks
+herself forty miles off. She's sick of the journey; and the cattle can
+scarce crawl. So if your own 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.
+
+\4 My dear friend, how can I be grateful?
+
+\5 Ay, now it's dear friend, noble 'squire. Just now, it was all
+idiot, cub, and run me through the guts. Damn \textit{your} way of fighting, I
+say. After we take a knock in this part of the country, we kiss and be
+friends. But if you had run me through the guts, then I should be
+dead, and you might go kiss the hangman.
+
+\4 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. \[r]Exit \4\]
+
+\5 Never fear me. Here she comes. Vanish. She's got from the
+pond, and draggled up to the waist like a mermaid.
+
+
+\(Enter \7\)
+
+
+\7 Oh, Tony, I'm killed! Shook! Battered to death. I
+shall never survive it. That last jolt, that laid us against the
+quickset hedge, has done my business.
+
+\5 Alack, mamma, it was all your own fault. You would be for
+running away by night, without knowing one inch of the way.
+
+\7 I wish we were at home again. I never met so many
+accidents in so short a journey. Drenched 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?
+
+\5 By my guess we should come upon Crackskull Common, about forty
+miles from home.
+
+\7 O lud! O lud! The most notorious spot in all the
+country. We only want a robbery to make a complete night on't.
+
+\5 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 that's galloping behind us? No; it's only a
+tree.---Don't be afraid.
+
+\7 The fright will certainly kill me.
+
+\5 Do you see anything like a black hat moving behind the thicket?
+
+\7 Oh, death!
+
+\5 No; it's only a cow. Don't be afraid, mamma; don't he afraid.
+
+\7 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.
+
+\5 \[Aside\] Father-in-law, by all that's unlucky, come to take one
+of his night walks. \[To her\] Ah, it's a highwayman with pistols as
+long as my arm. A damned ill-looking fellow.
+
+\7 Good Heaven defend us! He approaches.
+
+\5 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. \[\7 hides behind a tree in the back scene\]
+
+
+\(Enter \3\)
+
+
+\3 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?
+
+\5 Very safe, sir, at my aunt Pedigree's. Hem.
+
+\7 \[From behind\] Ah, death! I find there's danger.
+
+\3 Forty miles in three hours; sure that's too much, my
+youngster.
+
+\5 Stout horses and willing minds make short journeys, as they say.
+Hem.
+
+\7 \[From behind\] Sure he'll do the dear boy no harm.
+
+\3 But I heard a voice here; I should be glad to know from
+whence it came.
+
+\5 It was I, sir, talking to myself, sir. I was saying that forty
+miles in four 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 you please. Hem.
+
+\3 But if you talked to yourself you did not answer
+yourself. I'm certain I heard two voices, and am resolved \[raising his
+voice\] to find the other out.
+
+\7 \[From behind\] Oh! he's coming to find me out. Oh!
+
+\5 What need you go, sir, if I tell you? Hem. I'll lay down my
+life for the truth---hem---I'll tell you all, sir. \[Detaining him\]
+
+\3 I tell you I will not be detained. I insist on seeing.
+It's in vain to expect I'll believe you.
+
+\7 \[Running forward from behind\] O lud! he'll murder
+my poor boy, my darling! Here, good gentleman, whet your rage upon me.
+Take my money, my life, but spare that young gentleman; spare my child,
+if you have any mercy.
+
+\3 My wife, as I'm a Christian. From whence can she come? or
+what does she mean?
+
+\7 \[Kneeling\] 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.
+
+\3 I believe the woman's out of her senses. What, Dorothy,
+don't you know \textit{me}?
+
+\7 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?
+
+\3 Sure, Dorothy, you have not lost your wits? So far from
+home, when you are within forty yards of your own door! \[To him\]
+This is one of your old tricks, you graceless rogue, you. \[To her\]
+Don't you know the gate, and the mulberry-tree; and don't you remember
+the horse-pond, my dear?
+
+\7 Yes, I shall remember the horse-pond as long as I
+live; I have caught my death in it. \[To \5\] And it is to you, you
+graceless varlet, I owe all this? I'll teach you to abuse your mother,
+I will.
+
+\5 Ecod, mother, all the parish says you have spoiled me, and so
+you may take the fruits on't.
+
+\7 I'll spoil you, I will. [Follows him off the stage.
+\[r]Exit\]
+
+\3 There's morality, however, in his reply. \[r]Exit\]
+
+
+\(Enter \4 and \9\)
+
+
+\4 My dear Constance, why will you deliberate thus? If we
+delay a moment, all is lost for ever. Pluck up a little resolution,
+and we shall soon be out of the reach of her malignity.
+
+\9 I find it impossible. My spirits are so sunk with the
+agitations I have suffered, that I am unable to face any new danger.
+Two or three years' patience will at last crown us with happiness.
+
+\4 Such a tedious delay is worse than inconstancy. Let us fly,
+my charmer. Let us date our happiness from this very moment. Perish
+fortune! Love and content will increase what we possess beyond a
+monarch's revenue. Let me prevail!
+
+\9 No, Mr. Hastings, no. Prudence once more comes to my
+relief, and I will obey its dictates. In the moment of passion fortune
+may be despised, but it ever produces a lasting repentance. I'm
+resolved to apply to Mr. Hardcastle's compassion and justice for
+redress.
+
+\4 But tho' he had the will, he has not the power to relieve
+you.
+
+\9 But he has influence, and upon that I am resolved to
+rely.
+
+\4 I have no hopes. But since you persist, I must reluctantly
+obey you. \[r]Exeunt\]
+
+
+\(\01 changes.\)
+
+
+\(Enter \1 and \8\)
+
+
+\1 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.
+
+\8 I am proud of your approbation, and to show I merit
+it, if you place yourselves as I directed, you shall hear his explicit
+declaration. But he comes.
+
+\1 I'll to your father, and keep him to the appointment.
+
+\[r]Exit \1\]
+
+
+\(Enter \2\)
+
+
+\2 Though prepared for setting out, I come once more to take
+leave; nor did I, till this moment, know the pain I feel in the
+separation.
+
+\8 \[In her own natural manner\] I believe sufferings
+cannot be very great, sir, which you can so easily remove. A day or
+two longer, perhaps, might lessen your uneasiness, by showing the
+little value of what you now think proper to regret.
+
+\2 \[Aside\] This girl every moment improves upon me. \[To her\]
+It must not be, madam. I have already trifled too long with my heart.
+My very pride begins to submit to my passion. The disparity of
+education and fortune, the anger of a parent, and the contempt of my
+equals, begin to lose their weight; and nothing can restore me to
+myself but this painful effort of resolution.
+
+\8 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.
+
+
+\(Enter \3 and \1 from behind.\)
+
+
+\1 Here, behind this screen.
+
+\3 Ay, ay; make no noise. I'll engage my Kate covers him
+with confusion at last.
+
+\2 By heavens, madam! fortune was ever my smallest
+consideration. Your beauty at 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.
+
+\1 What can it mean? He amazes me!
+
+\3 I told you how it would be. Hush!
+
+\2 I am now determined to stay, madam; and I have too good an
+opinion of my father's discernment, when he sees you, to doubt his
+approbation.
+
+\8 No, Mr. Marlow, I will not, cannot detain you. Do
+you think I could suffer a connexion in which there is the smallest
+room for repentance? Do you think I would take the mean advantage of a
+transient passion, to load you with confusion? Do you think I could
+ever relish that happiness which was acquired by lessening yours?
+
+\2 By all that's good, I can have no happiness but what's in your
+power to grant me! Nor shall I ever feel repentance but in not having
+seen your merits before. I will stay even contrary to your wishes; and
+though you should persist to shun me, I will make my respectful
+assiduities atone for the levity of my past conduct.
+
+\8 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 addresses of a secure admirer?
+
+\2 \[Kneeling\] Does this look like security? Does this look
+like confidence? No, madam, every moment that shows me your merit,
+only serves to increase my diffidence and confusion. Here let me
+continue------
+
+\1 I can hold it no longer. Charles, Charles, how hast thou
+deceived me! Is this your indifference, your uninteresting
+conversation?
+
+\3 Your cold contempt; your formal interview! What have you
+to say now?
+
+\2 That I'm all amazement! What can it mean?
+
+\3 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.
+
+\2 Daughter!---This lady your daughter?
+
+\3 Yes, sir, my only daughter; my Kate; whose else should she
+be?
+
+\2 Oh, the devil!
+
+\8 Yes, sir, that very identical tall squinting lady you
+were pleased to take me for \[courtseying\]; 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!
+
+\2 Zounds! there's no bearing this; it's worse than death!
+
+\8 In which of your characters, sir, will you give us
+leave to address you? As the faltering gentleman, with looks on the
+ground, that speaks just to be heard, and hates hypocrisy; 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!
+
+\2 O, curse on my noisy head. I never attempted to be impudent
+yet, that I was not taken down. I must be gone.
+
+\3 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. \[They retire, she
+tormenting him, to the back scene\]
+
+
+\(Enter \7 and Tony.\)
+
+
+\7 So, so, they're gone off. Let them go, I care not.
+
+\3 Who gone?
+
+\7 My dutiful niece and her gentleman, Mr. Hastings,
+from town. He who came down with our modest visitor here.
+
+\1 Who, my honest George Hastings? As worthy a fellow as
+lives, and the girl could not have made a more prudent choice.
+
+\3 Then, by the hand of my body, I'm proud of the connexion.
+
+\7 Well, if he has taken away the lady, he has not
+taken her fortune; that remains in this family to console us for her
+loss.
+
+\3 Sure, Dorothy, you would not be so mercenary?
+
+\7 Ay, that's my affair, not yours.
+
+\3 But you know if your son, when of age, refuses to marry
+his cousin, her whole fortune is then at her own disposal.
+
+\7 Ay, but he's not of age, and she has not thought
+proper to wait for his refusal.
+
+
+\(Enter \4 and \9\)
+
+
+\7 \[Aside\] What, returned so soon! I begin not to
+like it.
+
+\4 \[To \3\] 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 my addresses, and our passions were first founded in
+duty.
+
+\9 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 am now recovered from
+the delusion, and hope from your tenderness what is denied me from a
+nearer connexion.
+
+\7 Pshaw, pshaw! this is all but the whining end of a
+modern novel.
+
+\3 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
+whom I now offer you?
+
+\5 What signifies my refusing? You know I can't refuse her till
+I'm of age, father.
+
+\3 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.
+
+\5 Of age! Am I of age, father?
+
+\3 Above three months.
+
+\5 Then you'll see the first use I'll make of my liberty. \[Taking
+\9's hand\] Witness all men by these presents, that I,
+Anthony Lumpkin, Esquire, of \textsc{blank} place, refuse you, Constantia
+Neville, spinster, of no place at all, for my true and lawful wife. So
+Constance Neville may marry whom she pleases, and Tony Lumpkin is his
+own man again.
+
+\1 O brave 'squire!
+
+\4 My worthy friend!
+
+\7 My undutiful offspring!
+
+\2 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.
+
+\4 \[To \8\] 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.
+
+\3 \[Joining their hands\] 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 may
+never be mistaken in the wife. \[r]Exeunt Omnes\]
+
+\spatium* {6ex plus 2ex\penalty 10000}
+\Facies \titulus {\textsc{#1}}
+\titulus{finis}%
+
+\endProsa
+\endDrama
+\end{document}
+