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Hardcastie. Ay; the alehouse, the old place; I control your choice; but Mr. Marlow, whom I have thought so.
pitched upon, is the son of my old friend, Sir. Mrs. Hardcastle. A low, paltry set of fellows. Charles Marlow, of whom you have heard mo
Tony. Not so low neither. There's Dick Mug- talk so often. The young gentleman has been gins the exciseman, Jack Slang the horse doctor, bred a scholar, and is designed for an employment little Aminidab that grinds the music box, and in the service of his country. I am told he's a Tom Twist that spins the pewter platter. man of an excellent understanding.
Mrs. Hardcastle. Pray, my dear, disappoint Miss Hardcastle. Is he? them for one night at least.
Hardcastle. Very generous. Tony. As for disappointing them, I should not Miss Hardcastle. I believe I shall like him. so much mind; but I can't abide to disappoint Hardcastle. Young and brave. myself.
Miss Hardcastle. I'm sure I shall like him. Mrs. Hardcastle [detaining him). You shan't Hardcastle. And very handsome.
Miss Hardcastle. My dear papa, say no more, Tony. I will, I tell you.
[kissing his hand] he's mine; I'll have him. Mrs. Hardcastle. I say you shan't.
Hardcastle. And to crown all, Kate, he's one of Tony. We'll see which is strongest, you or I. the most bashful and reserved young fellows in all
[Erit, hauling her out. the world. Hardcastle [alone). Ay, there goes a pair that Miss Hardcastle. Eh! you have frozen me to only spoil each other. But is not the whole age in death again. That word reserved has undone all a combination to drive sense and discretion out of the rest of his accomplishments. A reserved lover, doors? There's my pretty darling Kate! the fash- it is said, always makes a suspicious husband. ions of the times have almost infected her too. By Hardcastle. On the contrary, modesty seldom living a year or two in town, she's as fond of gauze resides in a breast that is not enriched with nobler and French frippery as the best of them. virtues. It was the very feature in his character
that first struck me. Enter MISS HARDCASTLE.
Miss Hardcastle. He must have more striking
features to catch me, I promise you. However, if Hardcastle. Blessings on my pretty innocence ! he be so young, so handsome, and so every thing dressed out as usual, my Kate. Goodness! What as you mention, I believe he'll do still. I think I'll a quantity of superfluous silk hast thou got about have him. thee, girl! I could never teach the fools of this age, Hardcastle. Ay, Kate, but there is still an obthat the indigent world could be clothed out of the stacle. It's more than an even wager he may not trimmings of the vain.
Miss Hardcastle. You know our agreement, sir. Miss Hardcastle. My dear papa, why will you You allow me the morning to receive and pay mortify one so? Well, if he refuses, instead of breakvisits, and to dress in my own manner; and in the ing my heart at his indifference, I'll only break my evening I put on my housewife's dress to please glass for its flattery, set my cap to some newer
fashion, and look out for some less difficult admirer. Hardcastle. Well, remember I insist on the Hardcastle. Bravely resolved! In the mean time terms of our agreement; and by the by, I believe II'll go prepare the servants for his reception: as we shall have occasion to try your obedience this very seldom see company, they want as much training evening.
as a company of recruits the first day's muster. Miss Hardcastle. I protest, sir, I don't compre
[Erit. hend your meaning.
Miss Hardcastle (alone). Lud, this news of Hardcastle. Then to be plain with you, Kate, I papa's puts me all in a flutter. Young, handsome ; expect the young gentleman I have chosen to be these he put last; but I put them foremost. Senyour husband from town this very day. I have his sible, good natured; I like all that. But then refather's letter, in which he informs me his son is served and sheepish, that's much against him. Yet set out, and that he intends to follow himself shortly can't he be cured of his timidity, by being taught
to be proud of his wife? Yes; and cant I-But I Miss Hardcastle. Indeed! I wish I had known vow I'm disposing of the husband before I have sesomething of this before. Bless me, how shall I cured the lover. behare ? It's a thousand to one I shan't like him; our meeting will be so formal, and so like a thing
Enter MISS NEVILLE. of business, that I shall find no room for friendship Miss Hardcastle. I'm glad you're come, Neor esteem.
ville, my dear. Tell me, Constance, how do I look Hardcastle. Depend upon it, child, I never will this evening? Is there any thing whimsical about
in his hand,
for a song.
me? Is it one of my well-looking days, child? Am I in face to-day?
SCENE-AN ALEHOUSE ROOM. Miss Neville. Perfectly, my dear. Yet now I
Several shabby Fellows with punch and tobacco TONY at lvok again-bless me!-sure no accident has hap
the head of the table, a little higher than the rest, a male pened among the canary birds or the gold fishes. Has your brother or the cat been meddling ? or has the last novel been too moving ?
Omnes. Hurrea! hurrea! hurrea! bravo! Miss Hardcastle. No; nothing of all this. I
First Fellow. Now, gentlemen, silence for a have been threatened—I can scarce get it out-1 song. The 'Squire is going to knock himself down have been threatened with a lover. Miss Neville. And his name
Omnes. Ay, a song, a song! Miss Hardcastle. Is Marlow.
Tony. Then I'll sing you, gentlemen, a song I Miss Neville. Indeed!
made upon this alehouse, the Three Pigeons, Miss Hardcastle. The son of Sir Charles Marlow.
SONG. Miss Neville. As I live, the most intimate friend Let schoolmasters puzzle their brain, of Mr. Hastings, my admirer. They are never asunder. I believe you must have seen him when Good liquor, I stoutly maintain,
With grammar, and nonsense, and learning, we lived in town.
Gives genus a better discerning. Miss Hardcastle. Never.
Let them brag of their heathenish gods, Miss Nevillc. He's a very singular character, I
Their Lethes, their Styxes, and Stygians, assure you. Among women of reputation and Their quis, and their quæs, and their quods, virtue he is the modestest man alive; but his ac
They're all but a parcel of pigeons. quaintance give him a very different character
Toroddle, toroddle, toral. among creatures of another stamp: you understand
When methodist preachers come down, Miss Hardcastle. An odd character indeed. I A-preaching that drinking is sinful, shall never be able to manage him. What shall I I'll wager the rascals a crown, do? Pshaw, think no more of him, but trust to oc- They always preach best with a skinful. currences for success. But how goes on your own But when you come down with your pence, affair, my dear? has my mother been courting you For a slice of their scurvy religion, for my brother Tony as usual?
I'll leave it to all men of sense, Miss Neville. I have just come from one of our But you, my good friend, are the pigeon. agreeable tête-à-têtes. She has been saying a hun
Toroddle, toroddle, toroll. dred tender things, and setting off her pretty mon
Then come put the jorum about, ster as the very pink of perfection. Miss Hardcastle. And her partiality is such, our hearts and our liquors are stout,
And let us be merry and clever, that she actually thinks him so. A fortune like
Here's the Three Jolly Pigeons for ever. yours is no small temptation. Besides, as she has
Let some cry up woodcock or hare, the sole management of it, I'm not surprised to see
Your bustards, your ducks, and your widgeons ; her unwilling to let it go out of the family.
But of all the gay birds in the air, Miss Neville. A fortune like mine, which chiefly
Here's a health to the Three Jolly Pigeons. consists in jewels, is no such mighty temptation.
Toroddle, toroddle, toroll. But, at any rate, if my dear Hastings be but constant, I make no doubt to be too hard for her at Omnes. Bravo! bravo! last. However, I let her suppose that I am in love First Fellow. The 'Squire has got spunk in with her son; and she never once dreams that my him. affections are fixed upon another.
Second Fellow. "I loves to hear him sing, bekeays Miss Hardcastle. My good brother holds out he never gives us nothing that's low. stoutly. I could almost love him for hating you so. Third Fellow. O damn any thing that's low, I
Miss Neville. It is a good-natured creature at can not bear it. bottom, and I'm sure would wish to see me married Fourth Fellow. The genteel thing is the gento any body but himself. But my aunt's bell rings teel thing at any time : if so be that a gentleman for our afternoon's walk round the improvements. bees in a concatenation accordingly. Allons! Courage is necessary, as our affairs are Third Fellow. I like the maxum of it, Master critical.
Muggins. What, though I am obligated to dance Miss Hardcastle. "Would it were bed-time, and a bear, a man may be a gentleman for all that. all were well."
[Exeunt. May this be my poison, if my bear ever dances but
to the very genteelest of tunes ; "Water Parted,” and often stand the chance of an unmannerly anor " The minuet in Ariadne.”
Second Fellow. What a pity it is the 'Squire is Hastings. At present, however, we are not likely not come to his own. It would be well for all the to receive any answer. publicans within ten miles round of him.
Tony. No offence, gentlemen. But I'm told Tony. Ecod, and so it would, Master Slang. you have been inquiring for one Mr. Hardcastle in I'd then show what it was to keep choice of com- these parts. Do you know what part of the counpany.
try you are in? Second Fellow. O he takes after his own father Hastings. Not in the least, sir, but should thank for that. To be sure old 'Squire Lumpkin was the you for information. finest gentleman I ever set my eyes on. For wind- Tony. Nor the way you came ? ing the straight horn, or beating a thicket for a Hastings. No, sir ; but if you can inform ushare, or a wench, he never had his fellow. It was Tony. Why, gentlemen, if you know neither a saying in the place, that he kept the best horses, the road you are going, nor where you are, nor the dogs, and girls, in the whole county.
road you came, the first thing I have to inform you Tony. Ecod, and when I'm age, I'll be no is, that—you have lost your way. bastard, I promise you. I have been thinking of Marlow. We wanted no ghost to tell us that. Bet Bouncer and the miller's gray mare to begin Tony. Pray, gentlemen, may I be so bold as to with. But come, my boys, drink about and be ask the place from whence you came ? merry, for you pay no reckoning. Well, Stingo, Marlow. That's not necessary towards directing what's the matter ?
us where we are to go.
Tony. No offence; but question for question is Enter LANDLORD.
all fair, you know.-Pray, gentlemen, is not this
same Hardcastle a cross-grained, old-fashioned, Landlord. There be two gentlemen in a post- whimsical fellow, with an ugly face, a daughter, chaise at the door. They have lost their way 'upo' and a pretty son ? the forest; and they are talking something about Hastings.. We have not seen the gentleman; Mr. Hardcastle.
but he has the family you mention. Tony. As sute as can be, one of them must be Tony. The daughter, a tall, trapesing, trollopthe gentleman that's coming down to court my sis-ling, talkative maypole—the son, a pretty, wellter. Do they seem to be Londoners ?
bred, agreeable youth, that every body is fond of? Landlord. I believe they may. They look Marlow. Our information differs in this. The Foundily like Frenchmen.
daughter is said to be well-bred, and beautiful; the Tony. Then desire them to step this way, and son an awkward booby, reared up and spoiled at I'll set them right in a twinkling. (Exit Land- his mother's apron-string. lord.) Gentlemen, as they mayn't be good enough Tony. He-he-hem!—Then, gentlemen, all I company for you, step down for a moment, and I'll have to tell you is, that you won't reach Mr. Hard
а be with you in the squeezing of a lemon. castle's house this night, I believe.
[Exeunt Mob. Hastings. Unfortunate! Tony. (alone.) Father-in-law has been calling Tony. It's a damned long, dark, boggy, dirty, me whelp and hound this half-year. Now if I dangerous way. Stingo, tell the gentlemen the pleased, I could be so revenged upon the old grum- way to Mr. Hardcastle's! [Winking upon the bletonian. But then I'm afraid-afraid of what? Landlord.] Mr. Hardcastle's, of Quagmire Marsh, I shall soon be worth fifteen hundred a-year, and you understand me. let bin frighten me out of that if he can.
Landlord. Master Hardcastle's! Lack-a-daisy,
my masters, you're come a deadly deal wrong! Enter LANDLORD, conducting MARLOW and
When you came to the bottom of the hill, you HASTINGS.
should have crossed down Squash-Lane.
Marlow. Cross down Squash Lane ! Marlor. What a tedious uncomfortable day Landlord. Then you were to keep straight for-. have we had of it! We were told it was but forty ward, till you came to four roads. miles across the country, and we have come above Marlow. Come to where four roads meet! threescore.
Tony. Ay, but you must be sure to take only Hastings. And all, Marlow, from that unac- one of them. countable reserve of yours, that would not let us Marlow. O, sir, you're facetious. inquire more frequently on the way.
Tony. Then keeping to the right, you are to Marlow. I own, Hastings, I am unwilling to go sideways, till you come upon Crack-skull Com. lay myself under an obligation to every one I meet, Imon: 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,
ACT II. you are to turn to the right, and then to the left, and then to the right about again, till you find out
SCENEAN OLD-FASHIONED HOUSE. the old mill.
Enter HARDCASTLE, followed by three or four awkward Marlow. Zounds, man! we could as soon find out the longitude !
Hastings. What's to be done, Marlow? Hardcastle. Well, I hope you are perfect in the
Marlor. This house promises but a poor re- table exercise I have been teaching you these three ception ; though perhaps the landlord can accom- days. You all know your posts and your places, modate us.
and can show that you have been used to good Landlord. Alack, master, we have but one company, without ever stirring from home. spare bed in the whole house.
Omnes. Ay, ay. Tony. And to my knowledge, that's taken Hardcastle. When company comes, you are not up by three lodgers already. [After a pause, in to pop out and stare, and then run in again, like which the rest seem disconcerted.] I have hit it. frighted rabbits in a warren. Don't you think, Stingo, our landlady could ac
Omnes. No, no. commodate the gentlemen by the fire-side, with—- Hardcastle. You, Diggory, whom I have taken three chairs and a bolster?
from the barn, are to make a show at the side-taHastings. I hate sleeping by the fire-side. and you, Roger, whom I have advanced from
Marlow. And I detest your three chairs and a the plough, are to place yourself behind my chair. bolster.
But you're not to stand so, with your hands in Tony. You do, do you?--then, let me see your pockets. Take your hands from your pockwhat if you go on a mile farther, to the Buck's ets, Roger; and from your head, you blockhead
the old Buck's head on the hill, one of the you. See how Diggory carries his hands. They're best inns in the whole county?
a little too stiff indeed, but that's no great matter, Hastings. O ho! so we have escaped an adven- Diggory. Ay, mind how I hold them. I learned ture for this night, however.
to hold my hands this way, when I was upon drill Landlor! [apart to Tony.] Sure, you ben't for the militia. And so being upon drillsending them to your father's as an inn, be you?
Hardcastle. You must not be so talkative, Dig. Tony. Mum, you fool you. Let them find that gory. You must be all attention to the guests. out. [To them.] You have only to keep on You must hear us talk, and not think of talling; straight forward, till you come to a large old house you must see us drink, and not think of drinking; by the road side. You'll see a pair of large horns you must see us cat and not think of eating. over the door. That's the sign. Drive up the Diggory. By the laws, your worship, that's yard, and call stoutly about you.
parfectly unpossible. Whenever Diggory sees Hastings. Sir, we are obliged to you. The yeating going forward, ecod he's always wishing servants can't miss the way?
for a mouthful himself. Tony. No, no: but I tell you, though, the land- Hardcastle. Blockhead! Is not a belly-full in lord is rich, and going to leave off business; so he the kitchen as good as a belly-full in the parlour? wants to be thought a gentleman, saving your pre- Stay your stomach with that reflection. sence, he! he! he! He'll be for giving you his Diggory. Ecod, I thank your worship, I'll make company; and, ecod, if you mind him, he'll per- a shift to stay my stomach with a slice of cold beef suade you that his mother was an alderman, and in the pantry. his aunt a justice of peace.
Hardcastle. Diggory, you are too talkative.Landlord. A troublesome old blade, to be sure; Then, if I happen to say a good thing, or tell a but a keeps as good wines and beds as any in the good story at table, you must not all burst out awhole country.
laughing, as if you made part of the company. Marlow. Well, if he supplies us with these, we Diggory. Then ecod your worship must not shall want no further connexion. We are to turn tell the story of ould Grouse in the gun-room : 1 to the right, did you say?
can't help laughing at that-he! he! he!—for the Tony. No, no; straight forward. I'll just step soul of me. We have laughed at that these twellmyself, and show you a piece of the way. [To ty years-ha! ha! ha! the Landlord.] Mum!
Ilardcastle. Ha! ha! ha! The story is a good Landlord. Ah, bless your heart, for a sweet, one. Well, honest Diggory, you may laugh al pleasant---damn'd mischievous son of a whore. that-but still remember to be attentive. Suppose
one of the company should call for a glass of wine.
bow will you behave ? A glass of wine, sir, if you lovely part of the creation that chiefly teach men please_[to Diggory)-eh, why don't you move? confidence. I don't know that I was ever familiarly
Diggory. Ecod, your worship, I never have cou- acquainted with a single modest woman, except rige till I see the eatables and drinkables brought my mother-But among females of another class upo' the table, and then I'm as bauld as a lion.
you know Hardcastle. What, will nobody move?
Hastings. Ay, among them you are impudent First Serrunt. I'm not to leave this place. enough of all conscience. Second Serrant. I'm sure it's no place of mine. Marlow. They are of us, you know. Third Serrant. Nor mine, for sartin.
Hastings. But in the company of women of Diggory. Wauns, and I'm sure it canna be reputation I never saw such an idiot, such a tremmine.
bler; you look for all the world as if you wanted an Hardcastle. You numskulls! and so while, like opportunity of stealing out of the room. your betters, you are quarreling for places, the Marlou. Why, man, that's because I do want guests must be starved. O you dunces! I find 1 to steal out of the room. Faith, I have often formmust begin all over again—But don't I hear a ed a resolution to break the ice, and rattle away at coach drive into the yard? To your posts, you any rate. But I don't know how, a single glance blockheads. I'll go in the mean time and give my from a pair of fine eyes has totally overset iny resoold friend's son a hearty reception at the gate.
lution. An impudent fellow may counterfeit mo
[Exit Hardcastle. desty, but I'll be hanged if a modest man cani Diggory. By the elevens, my place is gone quite ever counterfeit impudence. out of my head.
Hastings. If you could but say half the fine Roger. I know that my place is to be every things to them that I have heard you lavish upon where.
the bar-maid of an inn, or even a college bed-maker. First Serrant. Where the devil is mine? Marlow. Why, George, I can't say fine things
Second Servant. My place is to be nowhere at to them; they freeze, they petrify me. They may all; and so I'ze go about my business. [Ereunt talk of a comet, or a burning mountain, or some Serrants, running about as if frighted, different such bagatelle; but to me, a modest woman, dressraye.
cd out in all her finery, is the most tremendous ob
ject of the whole creation. Enter SERVANT with candles, showing in MARLOW and
Hastings. Ha! ha! ha! At this rate, man, how
can you ever expect to marry ? Serrant. Welcome, gentlemen, very welcome!
Marlow. Never, unless, as among kings and
princes, my bride were to be courted by proxy. If, Histings. After the disappointments of the day, indeed, like an eastern bridegroom, one were to be weloome once more, Charles, to the comforts of a introduced to a wife he never saw before, it might chan room and a good fire. Upon my word, a be endured. But to go through all the terrors of a Fery well-looking house; antique but creditable. formal courtship, together with the episode of
Marlow. The usual fate of a large mansion. aunts, grandmothers, and cousins, and at last to Having first ruined the master by good house-keep- blunt out the broad staring question of, Madam, ing, it at last comes to levy contributions as an inn. will you marry me? No, no, that's a strain much
Hastings. As you say, we passengers are to be above me, I assure you. tared to pay all these fineries. I have often seen Hastings. I pity you. But how do you intend a good sideboard, or a marblechimney-piece, though behaving to the lady you are come down to visit at not actually put in the bill, infiame a reckoning the request of your father? confoundedly,
Marlow. As I behave to all other ladies. Bow Marlow. Travellers, George, must pay in all very low, answer yes or no to all her demandsplaces; the only difference is, that in good inns you But for the rest, I don't think I shall venture to pay dearly for luxuries, in bad inns you are fleeced look in her face till I see my father's again. and starved.
Hastings. I'm surprised that one who is so warm Hastings. You have lived very much among a friend can be so cool a lover. them. In truth, I have been often surprised, that Marlow. To be explicit, my dear Hastings, my you who have seen so much of the world, with your chief inducement down was to be instrumental in natural good sense, and your many opportunities, forwarding your happiness, not my own. Miss could never yet acquire a requisite share of assur-Neville loves you, the family don't know you! as
my friend you are sure of a reception, and let honMarlow. The Englishman's malady. But tell our do the rest. me, George, where could I have learned that as- Hastings. My dear Marlow! But I'll suppress surance you talk of? My life has been chiefly the emotion. Were I a wretch, meanly seeking to spent in a college or an inn, in seclusion from that carry oli a fortune, you should be the last man in