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.
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Link to this Item
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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 June 10, 2025.
Pages
descriptionPage 216
ACT THE FOURTH.
Enter HASTINGS and Miss NEVILLE.
HASTINGS.
YOU surprise me! Sir Charles Marlow expected
here this night? Where have you had your infor∣mation?
Miss NEVILLE.
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.
HASTINGS.
Then, my Constance, all must be compleated be∣fore
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.
Miss NEVILLE.
The jewels, I hope, are safe.
HASTINGS.
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;
descriptionPage 217
and, if I should not see him again, will write him
further directions.
[Exit.
Miss NEVILLE.
Well! success attend you. In the mean time,
I'll go amuse my aunt with the old pretence of a
violent passion for my cousin.
[Exit.
Enter MARLOW, followed by a servant.
MARLOW.
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?
SERVANT.
Yes, your honour.
MARLOW.
She said she'd keep it safe, did she?
SERVANT.
Yes, she said she'd keep it safe enough; she ask'd
me how I came by it? and she said she had a great
mind to make me give an account of myself.
[Exit Servant.
MARLOW.
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
descriptionPage 218
rest of the family. She's mine, she must be mine,
or I'm greatly mistaken.
Enter HASTINCS.
HASTINGS.
Bless me! I quite forgot to tell her that I intend∣ed
to prepare at the bottom of the garden. Mar∣low
here, and in spirits too!
MARLOW.
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.
HASTINGS.
Some women you mean. But what success has
your honour's modesty been crowned with now, that
it grows so insolent upon us?
MARLOW.
Didn't you see the tempting, brisk, lovely, little
thing that runs about the house with a bunch of
keys to its girdle?
HASTINGS.
Well, and what then?
MARLOW.
She's mine, you rogue you. Such fire, such mo∣tion,
such eyes, such lips—but, egad! she would
not let me kiss them though.
HASTINGS.
But are you so sure, so very sure of her?
descriptionPage 219
MARLOW.
Why, man, she talked of shewing me her work
above stairs, and I am to improve the pattern.
HASTINGS.
But how can you, Charles, go about to rob a wo∣man
of her honour?
MARLOW.
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.
HASTINGS.
I believe the girl has virtue.
MARLOW.
And if she has, I should be the last man in the
world that would attempt to corrupt it.
HASTINGS.
You have taken care, I hope, of the casket I sent
you to lock up? It's in safety?
MARLOW.
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! Numb∣skull!
I have taken better precautions for you than
you did for yourself.—I have—
HASTINGS.
What!
MARLOW.
I have sent it to the landlady to keep for you.
descriptionPage 220
HASTINGS.
To the landlady!
MARLOW.
The landlady!
HASTINGS.
You did?
MARLOW.
I did. She's to be answerable for its forth-com∣ing,
you know.
HASTINGS.
Yes, she'll bring it forth, with a witness.
MARLOW.
Wasn't I right? I believe you'll allow that I act∣ed
prudently upon this occasion?
HASTINGS.
(Aside)
He must not see my uneasiness.
MARLOW.
You seem a little disconcerted though, methinks.
Sure nothing has happened?
HASTINGS.
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?
MARLOW.
Rather too readily. For she nor only kept the
casket; but, through her great precaution, was go∣ing
to keep the messenger too. Ha! ha! ha!
HASTINGS.
He! he! he! They're safe however.
descriptionPage 221
MARLOW.
As a guinea in a miser's purse.
HASTINGS.
(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.
[Exit.
MARLOW.
Thank ye, George! I ask no more. Ha! ha!
ha!
Enter HARDCASTLE.
HARDCASTLE.
I no longer know my own house. It's turned all
topsey-turvey. His servants have got drunk alrea∣dy.
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.
MARLOW.
Sir, your humble servant.
(Aside)
What's to
be the wonder now?
HARDCASTLE.
I believe, Sir, you must be sensible, Sir, that no
man alive ought to be more welcome than your fa∣ther's
son, Sir. I hope you think so?
descriptionPage 222
MARLOW.
I do from my soul, Sir. I don't want much in∣treaty.
I generally make my father's son welcome
wherever he goes.
HARDCASTLE.
I believe you do, from my soul, Sir. But though
I say nothing to your own conduct, that of your ser∣vants
is unsufferable. Their manner of drinking
is setting a very bad example in this house, I assure
you.
MARLOW.
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.
HARDCASTLE.
Then they had your orders for what they do! I'm
satisfied!
MARLOW.
They had, I assure you. You shall hear from one
of themselves.
Enter SERVANT, drunk.
MARLOW.
You, Jeremy! Come forward, sirrah! What
were my orders? Were you not told to drink freely,
descriptionPage 223
and call for what you thought fit, for the good of
the house?
HARDCASTLE.
(Aside)
I begin to lose my patience.
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, dammy! Good liquor will sit upon a good
supper, but a good supper will not sit upon—hiccup—upon
my conscience, Sir.
MARLOW.
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.
HARDCASTLE.
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 de∣sire
that you and your drunken pack may leave my
house directly.
MARLOW.
Leave your house!—Sure you jest, my good
friend? What, when I'm doing what I can to please
you.
descriptionPage 224
HARDCASTLE.
I tell you, Sir, you don't please me; so I desire
you'll leave my house.
MARLOW.
Sure you cannot be serious? at this time o'night,
and such a night. You only mean to banter me?
HARDCASTLE.
I tell you, Sir, I'm serious? and, now that my
passions are rouzed, I say this house is mine, Sir;
this house is mine, and I command you to leave it
directly.
MARLOW.
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 chuse to stay. What right
have you to bid me to leave this house, Sir? I never
met with such impudence, curse me, never in my
whole life before.
HARDCASTLE.
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,
(ban∣tering)
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
descriptionPage 225
here's a pair of brazen nosed bellows, perhaps you
may take a fancy to them?
MARLOW.
Bring me your bill, Sir; bring me your bill, and
let's make no more words about it.
HARDCASTLE.
There are a set of prints too. What think you
of the rake's progress for your own apartment?
MARLOW.
Bring me your bill, I say; and I'll leave you and
your infernal house directly.
HARDCASTLE.
Then there's a mahogany table that you may see
your own face in.
MARLOW.
My bill, I say.
HARDCASTLE.
I had forgot the great chair, for your own parti∣cular
slumbers, after a hearty meal.
MARLOW.
Zounds! bring me my bill, I say, and let's hear
no more on't.
HARDCASTLE.
Young man, young man, from your father's let∣ter
to me, I was taught to expect a well-bred modest
man, as a visitor here, but now I find him no better
than a coxcomb and a bully; but he will be down
here presently, and shall hear more of it.
[Exit.
descriptionPage 226
MARLOW.
How's this! Sure I have not mistaken the house!
Every thing looks like an inn. The servants cry,
coming. The attendance is aukward; 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 Miss HARDCASTLE.
Miss HARDCASTLE.
Let it be short then. I'm in a hurry.
(Aside)
I believe he begins to find out his mistake, but it's
too soon quite to undeceive him.
MARLOW.
Pray, child, answer me one question. What are
you, and what may your business in this house
be?
Miss HARDCASTLE.
A relation of the family, Sir.
MARLOW.
What, a poor relation?
Miss HARDCASTLE.
Yes, Sir. A poor relation appointed to keep the
keys, and to see that the guests want nothing in my
power to give them.
MARLOW.
That is, you act as the bar-maid of this inn.
descriptionPage 227
Miss HARDCASTLE.
Inn. O law—What brought that in your head?
One of the best families in the county keep an
inn! Ha! ha! ha! old Mr. Hardcastle's house
an inn!
MARLOW.
Mr. Hardcastle's house! Is this house Mr. Hard∣castle's
house, child?
Miss HARDCASTLE.
Aye, sure. Whose else should it be?
MARLOW.
So then all's out, and I have been damnably im∣posed
on. O, confound my stupid head, I shall be
laugh'd at over the whole town. I shall be stuck up
in caricatura in all the print-shops. The Dullissimo
Maccaroni. To mistake this house of all others for
an inn, and my father's old friend for an inn-keeper!
What a swaggering puppy must he take me for?
What a silly puppy do I find myself? There again,
may I be hanged, my dear, but I mistook you for
the bar-maid.
Miss HARDCASTLE.
Dear me! dear me! I'm sure there's nothing in
my behaviour to put me upon a level with one of
that stamp.
MARLOW.
Nothing, my dear, nothing. But I was in for a
list of blunders, and could not help making you a
subscriber. My stupidity saw every thing the wrong
way. I mistook your affiduity for assurance, and
descriptionPage 228
your simplicity for allurement. But its over—This
house I no more shew my face in.
Miss HARDCASTLE.
I hope, Sir, I have done nothing to disoblige you.
I'm sure I should be sorry to affront any gentleman
who has been so polite, and said so many civil things
to me. I'm sure I should be sorry
(pretending to cry)
if he left the family upon my account. I'm sure I
should be sorry, people said any thing amiss, since
I have no fortune but my character.
MARLOW.
(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 dif∣ference
of our birth, fortune and education, make
an honourable connection 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.
Miss HARDCASTLE.
(Aside)
Generous man! I now begin to admire
him.
(To him)
But I'm sure my family is as good
as Miss Hardcastle's, and though I'm poor, that's
no great misfortune to a contented mind, and, until
this moment, I never thought that it was bad to want
fortune.
descriptionPage 229
MARLOW.
And why now, my pretty simplicity?
Miss HARDCASTLE.
Because it puts me at a distance from one, that if
I had a thousand pound I would give it all to.
MARLOW.
(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 fa∣vour,
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. Fare∣wel.
[Exit.
Miss HARDCASTLE.
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 I stoop'd to con∣quer,
but will undeceive my papa, who, perhaps,
may laugh him out of his resolution.
[Exit.
Enter TONY, Miss NEVILLE.
TONY.
Aye, 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.
descriptionPage 230
Miss NEVILLE.
But, my dear cousin, sure you won't forsake us
in this distress. If she in the least suspects that I
am going off, I shall certainly be locked up, or
sent to my aunt Pedigree's, which is ten times
worse.
TONY.
To be sure, aunts of all kinds are damn'd bad
things. But what can I do? I have got you a pair
of horses that will fly like Whistlejacket, and I'm
sure you can't say but I have courted you nicely be∣fore
her face. Here she comes, we must court a bit
Or two more, for fear she should suspect us.
They retire, and seem to fondle.
Enter Mrs. HARDCASTLE.
Mrs. HARDCASTLE.
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 mar∣ried,
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, ex∣changing
stolen glances, and broken murmurs.
Ah!
TONY.
As for murmurs, mother, we grumble a little now
and then, to be sure. But there's no love lost be∣tween
us.
descriptionPage 231
Mrs. HARDCASTLE.
A mere sprinkling, Tony, upon the flame, only
to make it burn brighter.
Miss NEVILLE.
Cousin Tony promises to give us more of his com∣pany
at home. Indeed, he shan't leave us any more.
It won't leave us, cousin Tony, will it?
TONY.
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 be∣coming.
Miss NEVILLE.
Agreeable cousin! Who can help admiring that
natural humour, that pleasant, broad, red, thought∣less,
(patting his cheek)
ah! it's a bold face.
Mrs. HARDCASTLE.
Pretty innocence!
TONY.
I'm sure I always lov'd cousin Con's hazle eyes,
and her pretty long fingers, that she twists this way
and that, over the haspicholls, like a parcel of bob∣bins.
Mrs. HARDCASTLE.
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?
descriptionPage 232
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 DIGGORY.
DIGGORY.
Where's the 'squire? I have got a letter for your
worship.
TONY.
Give it to my mamma. She reads all my letters
first.
DIGGORY.
I had orders to deliver it into your own hands.
TONY.
Who does it come from?
DIGGORY.
Your worship mun ask that o' the letter itself.
TONY.
I could wish to know, though
(turning the letter,
and gazing on it.)
Miss NEVILLE.
(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 employ'd a
little if I can.
(To Mrs. Hardcastle)
But I have not
told yon, madam, of my cousin's smart answer just
now to Mr. Marlow. We so laugh'd—You must
know, madam,—This way a little, for he must not
hear us.
[They confer.
descriptionPage 233
TONY.
(Still gazing)
A damn'd cramp piece of penman∣ship,
as ever I saw in my life. I can read your
print hand very well. But here there are such han∣dles,
and shanks, and dashes, that one can scarce
tell the head from the tail. "To Anthony Lump∣kin,
esquire." It's very odd, I can read the out∣side
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 correspon∣dence.
Mrs. HARDCASTLE.
Ha! ha! ha! Very well, very well. And so my
son was too hard for the philosopher.
Miss NEVILLE.
Yes, madam; but you must hear the rest, madam.
A little more this way, or he may hear us. You'll
hear how he puzzled him again.
Mrs. HARDCASTLE.
He seems strangely puzzled now himself, me∣thinks.
TONY.
(Still gazing)
A damn'd up and down hand, as
if it was disguised in liquor.
(Reading)
Dear Sir.
Aye, 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.
descriptionPage 234
Mrs. HARDCASTLE.
What's that, my dear. Can I give you any as∣sistance?
Miss NEVILLE.
Pray, aunt, let me read it. No body reads a
cramp hand better than I.
(twitching the letter from
her)
Do you know who it is from?
TONY.
Can't tell, except from Dick Ginger the feeder.
Miss NEVILLE.
Aye, 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 fight∣ing—um—here,
here, it's all about cocks and fight∣ing;
it's of no consequence, here, put it up, put
it up.
[Thrusting the crumpled letter upon him.
TONY.
But I tell you, miss, it's of all the consequence in
the world. I would not lose the rest of it for a gui∣nea.
Here, mother, do you make it out. Of no
consequence!
[Giving Mrs. Hardcastle the letter.
Mrs. HARDCASTLE.
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 ex∣pect
you'll assist us with a pair of fresh horses, as
descriptionPage 235
you promised. Dispatch is necessary, as the hag
(aye the hag) your mother, will otherwise suspect
us. Yours, Hastings." Grant me patience. I
shall run distracted. My rage choaks me.
Miss NEVILLE.
I hope, madam, you'll suspend your resentment
for a few moments, and not impute to me any im∣pertinence,
or sinister design, that belongs to ano∣ther.
Mrs. HARDCASTLE.
(Curtesying very low.)
Fine spoken, madam, you
are most miraculously polite and engaging, and
quite the very pink of curtesy 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 join'd 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 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 shew you, that I
wish you better than you do yourselves.
[Exit.
Miss NEVILLE.
So now I'm completely ruined.
TONY.
Aye, that's a sure thing.
descriptionPage 236
Miss NEVILLE.
What better could be expected from being con∣nected
with such a stupid fool, and after all the
nods and signs I made him?
TONY.
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 HASTINGS.
HASTINGS.
So, Sir, I find by my servant, that you have
shewn my letter, and betray'd us. Was this well
done, young gentleman?
TONY.
Here's another. Ask Miss there who betray'd you?
Ecod, it was her doing, not mine.
Enter MARLOW.
MARLOW.
So I have been finely used here among you. Ren∣dered
contemptible, driven into ill manners, despis∣ed,
insulted, laughed at.
TONY.
Here's another. We shall have old Bedlam broke
loose presently.
descriptionPage 237
Miss NEVILLE.
And there, Sir, is the gentleman to whom we all
owe every obligation.
MARLOW.
What can I say to him, a mere boy, an idiot,
whose ignorance and age are a protection.
HASTINGS.
A poor contemptible booby, that would but dis∣grace
correction.
Miss NEVILLE.
Yet with cunning and malice enough to make
himself merry with all our embarrassments.
HASTINGS.
An insensible cub.
MARLOW.
Replete with tricks and mischief.
TONY.
Baw! damme, but I'll fight you both one after
the other,—with baskets.
MARLOW.
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.
HASTINGS.
Tortured as I am with my own disappointments,
is this a time for explanations. It is not friendly,
Mr. Marlow.
MARLOW.
But, Sir—
descriptionPage 238
Miss NEVILLE.
Mr. Marlow, we never kept on your mistake, till
it was too late to undeceive you. Be pacified.
Enter SERVANT.
SERVANT.
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.
[Exit servant.
Miss NEVILLE.
Well, well; I'll come presently.
MARLOW.
(To Hastings)
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.
HASTINGS.
Was it well done, Sir, if you're upon that subject,
to deliver what I entrusted to yourself, to the care
of another, Sir.
Miss NEVILLE.
Mr. Hastings. Mr. Marlow. Why will you in∣crease
my distress by this groundless dispute? I im∣plore,
I intreat you—
descriptionPage 239
Enter SERVANT.
SERVANT.
Your cloak, madam. My mistress is impatient.
[Exit Servant.
Miss NEVILLE.
I come. Pray be pacified. If I leave you thus,
I shall die with apprehension.
Enter SERVANT.
SERVANT.
Your fan, muff, and gloves, madam. The horses
are waiting.
Miss NEVILLE.
O, Mr. Marlow! if you knew what a scene of con∣straint
and ill-nature lies before me, I'm sure it
would convert your resentment into pity.
MARLOW.
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.
HASTINGS.
The torture of my situation is my only excuse.
Miss NEVILLE.
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 encrease the hap∣piness
of our future connexion. If—
descriptionPage 240
Mrs. HARDCASTLE.
(Within)
Miss Neville. Constance, why Con∣stance, I say.
Miss NEVILLE.
I'm coming. Well, constancy. Remember, con∣stancy
is the word.
[Exit.
HASTINGS.
My heart! how can I support this. To be so
near happiness, and such happiness!
MARLOW.
(To Tony)
You see now, young gentleman, the
effects of your folly. What might be amusement to
you, is here disappointment, and even distress.
TONY.
(From a reverie)
Ecod, I have hit it. It's here.
Your hands. 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-natur'd 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!
[Exeunt.
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