The poetical and dramatic works of Oliver Goldsmith, M. B. Now first collected. With an account of the life and writings of the author. In two volumes: [pt.2]

About this Item

Title
The poetical and dramatic works of Oliver Goldsmith, M. B. Now first collected. With an account of the life and writings of the author. In two volumes: [pt.2]
Author
Goldsmith, Oliver, 1730?-1774.
Publication
London :: printed by H. Goldney, for Messieurs Rivington, T. Carnan and F. Newbery; T. Lowndes and G. Kearsley; T. Cadell and T. Evans,
1780.
Rights/Permissions

To the extent possible under law, the Text Creation Partnership has waived all copyright and related or neighboring rights to this keyboarded and encoded edition of the work described above, according to the terms of the CC0 1.0 Public Domain Dedication (http://creativecommons.org/publicdomain/zero/1.0/). This waiver does not extend to any page images or other supplementary files associated with this work, which may be protected by copyright or other license restrictions. Please go to http://www.lib.umich.edu/tcp/ecco/ for more information.

Link to this Item
http://name.umdl.umich.edu/004897252.0001.002
Cite this Item
"The poetical and dramatic works of Oliver Goldsmith, M. B. Now first collected. With an account of the life and writings of the author. In two volumes: [pt.2]." In the digital collection Eighteenth Century Collections Online. https://name.umdl.umich.edu/004897252.0001.002. University of Michigan Library Digital Collections. Accessed April 24, 2025.

Pages

Page 157

ACT THE SECOND.

SCENE, an old-fashioned House.
Enter HARDCASTLE, followed by three or four aukward servants.
HARDCASTLE.

WELL, I hope you're perfect in the table ex∣ercise I have been teaching you these three days. You all know your posts and your places, and can shew that you have been used to good company, without ever stirring from home.

OMNES.

Aye, aye.

HARDCASTLE.

When company comes, you are not to pop out and stare, and then run in again, like frighted rabbits in a warren.

OMNES.

No, no.

HARDCASTLE.

You, Diggory, whom I have taken from the barn, are to make a shew at the side-table; and you, Ro∣ger, whom I have advanced from the plough, are to

Page 158

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.

DIGGORY.

Aye, 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—

HARDCASTLE.

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.

DIGGORY.

By the laws, your worship, that's parfectly unpos∣sible. Whenever Diggory sees yeating going for∣ward, ecod he's always wishing for a mouthful him∣self.

HARDCASTLE.

Blockhead! Is not a belly-full in the kitchen as good as a belly-full in the parlour? Stay your sto∣mach with that reflection.

DIGGORY.

Ecod I thank your worship, I'll make a shift to stay my stomach with a slice of cold beef in the pantry.

Page 159

HARDCASTLE.

Diggory, you are too talkative. Then if I hap∣pen to say a good thing, or tell a good story at ta∣ble, you must not all burst out a-laughing as if you made part of the company.

DIGGORY.

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!

HARDCASTLE.

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 com∣pany should call for a glass of wine, how will you behave? A glass of wine, Sir, if you please,

(To Diggory)
—Eh, why don't you move?

DIGGORY.

Ecod, your worship, I never have courage till I see the eatables and drinkables brought upo' the ta∣ble, and then I'm as bauld as a lion.

HARDCASTLE.

What, will nobody move?

FIRST SERVANT.

I'm not to leave this place.

SECOND SERVANT.

I'm sure it's no place of mine.

Page 160

THIRD SERVANT.

Nor mine, for sartain.

DIGGORY.

Wauns, and I'm sure it canna be mine.

HARDCASTLE.

You numbskulls! 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.

[Exit Hardcastle.
DIGGORY.

By the elevens, my place is gone quite out of my head.

ROGER.

I know that my place is to be every where.

FIRST SERVANT.

Where the devil is mine?

SECOND SERVANT.

MY pleace is to be no where at all; and so ize go about my business.

[Exeunt servants, running about as if frighted, different ways.
Enter SERVANT with Candles, shewing in MAR∣LOW and HASTINGS.
SERVANT.

Welcome, gentlemen, very welcome! This way.

Page 161

HASTINGS.

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.

MARLOW.

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.

HASTINGS.

As you say, we passengers are to be taxed to pay all these fineries. I have often seen a good side∣board, or a marble chimney-piece, though not ac∣tually put in the bill, inflame a reckoning con∣foundedly.

MARLOW.

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.

HASTINGS.

You have lived pretty 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 ne∣ver yet acquire a requite share of assurance.

MARLOW.

The Englishman's malady. But tell me, George, where ould I have learned that assurance you talk

Page 162

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 a∣mong females of another class you know—

HASTINGS.

Aye, among them you are impudent enough of all conscience.

MARLOW.

They are of us, you know.

HASTINGS.

But in the company of women of reputation I ne∣ver 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.

MARLOW.

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 im∣pudent fellow may counterfeit modesty, but I'll be hanged if a modest man can ever counterfeit impu∣dence.

HASTINGS.

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—

Page 163

MARLOW.

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 baga∣telle. But to me, a Modest woman, drest out in all her finery, is the most tremendous object of the whole creation.

HASTINGS.

Ha! ha! ha! At this rate, man, how can you ever expect to marry?

MARLOW.

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 intro∣duced 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 mar∣ry me? No, no, that's a strain much above me, I assure you.

HASTINGS.

I pity you. But how do you intend behaving to the lady you are come down to visit at the request of your father?

MARLOW.

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.

Page 164

HASTINGS.

I'm surprised that one who is so warm a friend can be so cool a lover.

MARLOW.

To be explicit, my dear Hastings, my chief in∣ducement down was to be instrumental in forward∣ing 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.

HASTINGS.

My dear Marlow! But I'll suppress the emotion. Were I a wretch, meanly seeking to carry off a for∣tune, 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.

MARLOW.

Happy man! You have talents and art to capti∣vate 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 aukward pre∣possessing 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 fel∣low here to interrupt us.

Page 165

Enter HARDCASTLE.
HARDCASTLE.

Gentlemen, once more you are heartily welcome. Which is Mr. Marlow? Sir, you're heartily wel∣come. It's not my way, you see, to receive my friends with my back to the fire. I like to give them a hearty reception in the old style at my gate. I like to see their horses and trunks taken care of.

MARLOW (aside.)

He has got our names from the servants already.

(To him)
We approve your caution and hospitality, Sir.
(To Hastings)
I have been thinking, George, of changing our travelling dresses in the morning. I am grown confoundedly ashamed of mine.

HARDCASTLE.

I beg, Mr. Marlow, you'll use no ceremony in this house.

HASTINGS.

I fancy, George, you're right: the first blow is half the battle. I intend opening the campaign with the white and gold.

HARDCASTLE.

Mr. Marlow—Mr. Hastings—gentlemen—pray be under no constraint in this house. This is Li∣berty-hall, gentlemen. You may do just as you please here.

MARLOW.

Yet, George, if we open the campaign too fiercely at first, we may want ammunition before it

Page 166

is over. I think to reserve the embroidery to secure a retreat.

HARDCASTLE.

Your talking of a retreat, Mr. Marlow, puts me in wind of the duke of Marlborough, when we went to besiege Denain. He first summoned the garrison.

MARLOW.

Don't you think the ventre dór waistcoat will do with the plain brown?

HARDCASTLE.

He first summoned the garrison, which might con∣sist of about five thousand men—

HASTINGS.

I think not: brown and yellow mix but very poorly.

HARDCASTLE.

I say, gentlemen, as I was telling you, he sum∣moned The garrison, which might consist of about five thousand men—

MARLOW.

The girls like finery.

HARDCASTLE.

Which might consist of about five thousand men, well appointed with stores ammunition, and other implements of war. Now, says the duke of Marl∣borough to George Brooks, that stood next to him—you must have heard of George Brooks—I'll

Page 167

pawn my dukedom, says he, but I take that garri∣son without spilling a drop of blood. So—

MARLOW.

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.

HARDCASTLE.

Punch, Sir!

(Aside)
This is the most unaccount∣able kind of modesty I ever met with.

MARLOW.

Yes, Sir, punch. A glass of warm punch, after our journey, will be comfortable. This is Liber∣ty-hall, you know.

HARDCASTLE.

Here's cup, Sir.

MARLOW.

(Aside)
So this fellow, in his Liberty-hall, will only let us have just what he pleases.

HARDCASTLE.

(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.)

MARLOW.

(Aside)
A very impudent fellow this! but he's a character and I'll humour him a little. Sir, my ser∣vice to you.
(Drinks.)

Page 168

HASTINGS.

(Aside)
I see this fellow wants to give us his com∣pany, and forgets that he's an innkeeper, before he has learned to be a gentleman.

MARLOW.

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.

HARDCASTLE.

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 'for us that sell ale.'

HASTINGS.

So, then you have no turn for politics I find.

HARDCASTLE.

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 Heyder Ally or Ally Cawn, than about Ally Croaker. Sir, my service to you.

HASTINGS.

So that with eating above stairs, and drinking be∣low, with receiving your friends within, and amus∣ing them without, you lead a good pleasant bustling life of it.

Page 169

HARDCASTLE.

I do stir about a great deal, that's certain. Half the differences of the parish are adjusted in this very parlour.

MARLOW.

(After drinking)
And you have an argument in your cup, old gentleman, better than any in West∣minster-hall.

HARDCASTLE.

Aye, young gentleman, that, and a little philo∣sophy.

MARLOW.

(Aside.)
Well, this is the first time I ever heard of an innkeeper's philosophy.

HASTINGS.

So then, like an experienced general, you attack them on every quarter. If you find their reason ma∣nageable, 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.)

HARDCASTLE.

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.

MARLOW.

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?

Page 170

HARDCASTLE.

For supper, Sir!

(Aside)
Was ever such a request to a man in his own house!

MARLOW.

Yes, Sir, supper, Sir; I begin to feel an appe∣tite. I shall make dev'lish work to-night in the larder, I promise you.

HARDCASTLE.

(Aside)
Such a brazen dog sure never my eyes be∣held.
(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 then.

MARLOW.

Yon do, do you?

HARDCASTLE.

Entirely. By-the-bye, I believe they are in ac∣tual consultation upon what's for supper this mo∣ment in the kitchen.

MARLOW.

Then I beg they'll admit me as one of their pri∣vy council. It's a way I have got. When I travel, I always chuse to regulate my own supper. Let the cook be called. No offence I hope, Sir.

HARDCASTLE.

O no, Sir, none in the least; yet I don't know how: our Bridget, the cook-maid, is not very com∣municative upon these occasions. Should we send for her, she might scold us all out of the house.

Page 171

HASTINGS.

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.

MARLOW.

(To Hardcastle, who looks at them with surprise)
Sir, he's very right, and it's my way too.

HARDCASTLE.

Sir, you have a right to command here. Here, Roger, bring us the bill of fare for to-night's sup∣per. 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.

HASTINGS.

(Aside)
All upon the high ropes! His uncle a colonel! We shall soon hear of his mother being a justice of peace. But let's hear the bill of fare.

MARLOW.

(Perusing)
What's here? For the first course; for the second course; for the desert. The devil, Sir, do you think we have brought down the whole joiners company, or the corporation of Bedford, to eat up such a supper? Two or three little things, clean and comfortable, will do.

HASTINGS.

But, let's hear it.

Page 172

MARLOW.

(Reading)
For the first course at the top, a pig, and pruin sauce.

HASTINGS.

Damn your pig, I say.

MARLOW.

And damn your pruin sauce, say I.

HARDCASTLE.

And yet, gentlemen, to men that are hungry, pig, with pruin sauce, is very good eating.

MARLOW.

At the bottom, a calve's tongue and brains.

HASTINGS.

Let your brains be knock'd out, my good Sir; I don't like them.

MARLOW.

Or you may clap them on a plate by themselves.

HARDCASTLE.

(Aside)
Their impudence confounds me.
(To them)
Gentlemen, you are my guests, make what alterations you please. Is there any thing else you wish to retrench or alter, gentlemen?

MARLOW.

Item. A pork pye, a boiled rabbit and sausages, a Florentine, a shaking pudding, and a dish of tiff—taff—taffety cream!

HASTINGS.

Confound your made dishes, I shall be as much at a loss in this house as at a green and yellow din∣ner

Page 173

at the French ambassador's table. I'm for plain eating.

HARDCASTLE.

I'm sorry, gentlemen, that I have nothing you like, but if there be any thing you have a particular fancy to—

MARLOW.

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 air'd, and proper∣ly taken care of.

HARDCASTLE.

I entreat you'll leave all that to me. You shall not stir a step.

MARLOW.

Leave that to you! I protest, Sir, you must ex∣cuse me, I always look to these things myself.

HARDCASTLE.

I must insist, Sir, you'll make yourself easy on that head.

MARLOW.

You see I'm resolved on it.

(Aside.)
A very trou∣blesome fellow this, as ever I met with.

HARDCASTLE.

Well, Sir, I'm resolved at least to attend you.

(Aside)
This may be modern modesty, but I never saw any thing look so like old-fashioned impudence.

[Exeunt Marlow and Hardcastle.

Page 174

HASTINGS, solus.

So I find this fellow's civilities begin to grow trou∣blesome. 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 Miss NEVILLE.
Miss NEVILLE.

My dear Hastings! To what unexpected good fortune? to what accident, am I to ascribe this hap∣py meeting?

HASTINGS.

Rather let me ask the same question, as I could never have hoped to meet my dearest Constance at an inn.

Miss NEVILLE.

An inn! sure you mistake! my aunt, my guardi∣an, lives here. What could induce you to think this hóuse an inn?

HASTINGS.

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.

Miss NEVILLE.

Certainly it must be one of my hopeful cousin's tricks, of whom you have heard me talk so often, ha! ha! ha!

Page 175

HASTINGS.

He whom your aunt intends for you? he of whom I have such just apprehensions?

Miss NEVILLE.

You have nothing to fear from him, I assure you. You'd adore him if you knew how heartily he de∣spises me. My aunt knows it too, and has under∣taken to court me for him, and actually begins to think she has made a conquest.

HASTINGS.

Thou dear dissembler! You must know, my Constance, I have just seized this happy oppor∣tunity 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.

Miss NEVILLE.

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 per∣suading 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.

Page 176

HASTINGS.

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 instanly quit die house before our plan was ripe for execution.

Miss NEVILLE.

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—

[They confer.
Enter MARLOW.
MARLOW.

The assiduities of these good people teize me be∣yond bearing. My host seems to think it ill man∣ners 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 gauntlet through all the rest of the family.—What have we got here!—

HASTINGS.

My dear Charles! Let me congratulate you!—The most fortunate accident!—Who do you think is just alighted?

MARLOW.

Cannot guess.

Page 177

HASTINGS.

Our mistresses, boy, Miss Hardcastle and Miss Ne∣ville. 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!

MARLOW.

(Aside)
I have been mortified enough of all con∣science, and here comes something to complete my embarrassment.

HASTINGS.

Well! but was'nt it the most fortunate thing in the world?

MARLOW.

Oh! yes. Very fortunate—a most joyful en∣counter—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 respectful—To-morrow let it be.

[Offering to go.

Miss NEVILLE.

By no means, Sir. Your ceremony will displease her. The disorder of your dress will shew the ar∣dour of your impatience. Besides, she knows you are in the house, and will permit you to see her.

Page 178

MARLOW.

O! the devil! how shall I support it? hem! hem! Hastings, you must not go. You are to as∣sist me, you know. I shall be confoundedly ridicu∣lous. Yet, hang it! I'll take courage. Hem!

HASTINGS.

Pshaw, man! it's but the first plunge, and all's over. She's but a woman, you know.

MARLOW.

And of all women, she that I dread most to en∣counter!

Enter Miss HARDCASTLE, as returned from walking, a bonnet, &c.
HASTINGS, 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.

Miss HARDCASTLE.

(Aside)
Now, for meeting my modest gentleman with a demure face, and quite in his own manner.
(After a pause, in which be appears very uneasy and disconcerted.)
I'm glad of your safe arrival, Sir—I'm told you had some accidents by the way.

MARLOW.

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!

Page 179

HASTINGS.

(To him)
You never spoke better in your whole life. Keep it up, and I'll insure you the victory.

Miss HARDCASTLE.

I'm afraid you flatter, Sir. You that have seen so much of the finest company can find little enter∣tainment in an obscure corner of the country.

MARLOW.

(Gathering courage)
I have lived, indeed, in the world, madam; but I have kept very little com∣pany. I have been but an observer upon life, ma∣dam, while others were enjoying it.

Miss NEVILLE.

But that, I am told, is the way to enjoy it at last.

HASTINGS.

(To him)
Cicero never spoke better. Once more, and you are confirmed in assurance for ever.

MARLOW.

(To him)
Hem! stand by me then, and when I'm down, throw in a word or two to set me up again.

Miss HARDCASTLE.

An observer, like you, upon life, were, I fear, disagreeably employed, since you must have had much more to censure than to approve.

MARLOW.

Pardon me, madam. I was always willing to be amused. The folly of most people is rather an ob∣ject of mirth than uneasiness.

Page 180

HASTINGS.

(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 em∣barrass the interview.

MARLOW.

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?

HASTINGS.

Our presence will but spoil conversation. so we'll retire to the next room.

(To him)
Yon don't consi∣der, man, that we are to manage a little tête-à-tête of our own.

[Exeunt.
Miss HARDCASTLE.

(After a pause
I But you have not been wholly an observer, I presume, Sir: the ladies I should hope have employed some part of your addresses.

MARLOW.

(Relapsing into timidity)
Pardon me, madam, I—I—I—as yet have studied—only—to—deserve them.

Miss HARDCASTLE.

And that, some say, is the very worst way to ob∣tain them.

MARLOW.

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.

Page 181

Miss HARDCASTLE.

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.

MARLOW.

It's—a disease—of the mind, madam. In the variety of tastes there must be some who want∣ing a relish—for—um—a—um.

Miss HARDCASTLE.

I understand you, Sir. There must be some, who wanting a relish for refined pleasures, pretend to de∣spise what they are incapable of tasting.

MARLOW.

My meaning, madam, but infinitely better ex∣pressed. And I can't help observing—a—

Miss HARDCASTLE.

(Aside)
Who could ever suppose this fellow im∣pudent upon such occasions.
(To him)
You were going to observe, Sir—

MARLOW.

I was observing, madam—I protest, madam, I forget what I was going to observe.

Miss HARDCASTLE.

(Aside)
I vow and so do I.
(To him)
You were observing, Sir, that in this age of hypocrisy some∣thing about hypocrisy, Sir.

Page 182

MARLOW.

Yes, madam. In this age of hypocrisy there are few who upon strict inquiry do not—a—a—a—

Miss HARDCASTLE.

I understand you perfectly, Sir.

MARLOW.

(Aside)
Egad! and that's more than I do myself.

Miss HARDCASTLE.

You mean that in this hypocritical age there are few that do not condemn in public what they prac∣tise in private, and think they pay every debt to virtue when they praise it.

MARLOW.

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.

Miss HARDCASTLE.

Not in the least, Sir; there's something so agree∣able and spirited in your manner, such life and force—pray, Sir, go on.

MARLOW.

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—

Miss HARDCASTLE.

I agree with you entirely, a want of courage upon some occasions assumes the appearance of ignorance

Page 183

and betrays us when we most want to excel. I beg you'll proceed.

MARLOW.

Yes, madam. Morally speaking, madam—But I see Miss Neville expecting us in the next room. I would not intrude for the world.

Miss HARDCASTLE.

I protest, Sir, I never was more agreeably enter∣tained in all my life. Pray go on.

MARLOW.

Yes, madam. I was—But she beckons us to join her. Madam, shall I do myself the honour to attend you?

Miss HARDCASTLE.

Well then, I'll follow.

MARLOW.

(Aside)
This pretty smooth dialogue has done for me.

[Exit.
Miss HARDCASTLE, sola.

Ha! ha! ha! Was there ever such a sober senti∣mental interview? I'm certain he scarce look'd 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 do∣ing somebody that I know of a piece of service. But who is that somebody?—That, faith, is a ques∣tion I can scarce answer.

[Exit

Page 184

Enter TONY and Miss NEVILLE, followed by Mrs. HARDCASTLE and HASTINGS.
TONY.

What do you follow me for, cousin Con? I won∣der you're not asham'd to be so very engaging.

Miss NEVILLE.

I hope, cousin, one may speak to one's own rela∣tions, and not be to blame.

TONY.

Aye, 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.

She follows, coquetting him to the back scene.

Mrs. HARDCASTLE.

Well! I vow, Mr. Hastings, you are very enter∣taining. There's nothing in the world I love to talk of so much as London, and the fashions, though I was never there myself.

HASTINGS.

Never there! You amaze me! From your air and manner, I conclude you had been bred all your life either at Ranelagh, St. James's, or Tower Wharf.

Mrs. HARDCASTLE.

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

Page 185

above some of our neighbouring rustics; but who can have a manner, that has never seen the Panthe∣on, 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 tête-à-tête from the scandalous ma∣gazine, 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. Hast∣ings?

HASTINGS.

Extremely elegant and degagée, upon my word, madam. your friseur is a Frenchman, I suppose?

Mrs. HARDCASTLE.

I protest I dressed it myself from a print in the la∣dies memorandum-book for the last year.

HASTINGS.

Indeed! Such a head in a side-box, at the play∣house, would draw as many gazers as my lady may'ress at a city ball.

Mrs. HARDCASTLE.

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.

HASTINGS.

But that can never be your case, madam, in any dress.

(Bowing.)

Page 186

Mrs. HARDCASTLE.

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 cloaths. I have often wanted him to throw off his great flaxen wig, and where he was bald, to plaister it over, like my Lord Pately, with powder.

HASTINGS.

You are right, madam; for, as among the ladies there are none ugly, so among the men there are none old.

Mrs. HARDCASTLE.

But what do you think his answer was? Why, with his usual Gothic vivacity, he said I only want∣ed him to throw off his wig to convert it into a tête for my own wearing.

HASTINGS.

Intolerable! At your age you may wear what you please, and it must become you.

Mrs. HARDCASTLE.

Pray, Mr. Hastings, what do you take to be the most fashionable age about town?

HASTINGS.

Some time ago, forty was all the mode; but I'm told the ladies intend to bring up fifty for the ensu∣ing winter.

Mrs. HARDCASTLE.

Seriously. Then I shall be too young for the fashion.

Page 187

HASTINGS.

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.

Mrs. HARDCASTLE.

And yet Mrs. Niece thinks herself as much a woman, and is as fond of jewels as the oldest of us all.

HASTINGS.

Your niece, is she? And that young gentleman, a brother of yours, I should presume?

Mrs. HARDCASTLE.

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 al∣ready.

(To them)
Well, Tony, child, what soft things are you saying to your cousin Constance this evening?

TONY.

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.

Mrs. HARDCASTLE.

Never mind him, Con, my dear. He's in ano∣ther story behind your back.

Page 188

Miss NEVILLE.

There's something generous in my cousin's man∣ner. He falls out before faces to be forgiven in private.

TONY.

That's a damned confounded—crack.

Mrs. HARDCASTLE.

Ah! he's a sly one. Don't you think they're like each other about the month, 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.

TONY.

You had as good not make me, I tell you.

Measuring.

Miss NEVILLE.

O lud! he has almost cracked my head.

Mrs. HARDCASTLE.

O the monster! For shame, Tony. You a man, and behave so!

TONY.

If I'm a man, let me have my fortin. Ecod! I'll not be made a fool of no longer.

Mrs. HARDCASTLE.

Is this, ungrateful boy, all that I'm to get for the pains I have taken in your education? I that have rock'd yon in your cradle, and fed that pretty mouth with a spoon! Did not I work that waist∣coat to make you genteel? Did not I prescribe for

Page 189

you every day, and weep while the receipt was oper∣ating?

TONY.

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 housewife 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.

Mrs. HARDCASTLE.

Wasn't it all for your good, viper? Wasn't it all for your good?

TONY.

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.

Mrs. HARDCASTLE.

That's false; I never see you when you're in spi∣rits. No, Tony, you then go to the alehouse or kennel. I'm never to be delighted with your agree∣able, wild notes, unfeeling monster!

TONY.

Ecod! mamma, your own notes are the wildest of the two.

Mrs. HARDCASTLE.

Was ever the like? But I see he wants to break my heart, I see he does.

Page 190

HASTINGS.

Dear madam, permit me to lecture the young gentleman a little. I'm certain I can persuade him to his duty.

Mrs. HARDCASTLE.

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.

[Exeunt Mrs. Hardcastle and Miss Neville.
HASTINGS, TONY.
TONY, singing.

"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.

HASTINGS.

Then you're no friend to the ladies, I find, my pretty young gentleman?

TONY.

That's as I find 'um.

HASTINGS.

Not to her of your mother's chusing, I dare an∣swer? And yet she appears to me a pretty well-tem∣pered girl.

Page 191

TONY.

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 cantanckerous toad in all christen∣dom.

HASTINGS.

(Aside)
Pretty encouragement this for a lover!

TONY.

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.

HASTINGS.

To me she appears sensible and silent!

TONY.

Aye, before company. But when she's with her play-mate she's as loud as a hog in a gate.

HASTINGS.

But there is a meek modesty about her that charms me.

TONY.

Yes, but curb her never so little, she kicks up, and you're flung in a ditch.

HASTINGS.

Well, but you must allow her a little beauty.—Yes, you must allow her some beauty.

TONY.

Bandbox! She's all a made up thing, mum. Ah! could you but see Bet Bouncer of these parts,

Page 192

you might then talk of beauty. Ecod, she has two eyes as black as stoes, and cheeks as broad and red as a pulpit cushion. She'd make two of she.

HASTINGS.

Well, what say you to a friend that would take this bitter bargain off your hands?

TONY.

Anon.

HASTINGS.

Would you thank him that would take Miss Ne∣ville, and leave you to happiness and your dear Betsy?

TONY.

Aye; but where is there such a friend, for who would take her?

HASTINGS.

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.

TONY.

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.

HASTINGS.

My dear 'squire, this looks like a lad of spirit.

Page 193

TONY.

Come along then, and you shall see more of my spirit before you have done with me.

Singing.

We are the boys

That fears no noise

Where the thundering cannons roar.

[Exeunt.
Do you have questions about this content? Need to report a problem? Please contact us.