ACT I.

Scene.—A scene in an old-fashioned house.

EnterMrs. HardcastleandMr. Hardcastle.

Mrs. Hard.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. Grisby, go to take a month's polishing every winter.

Hard.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.

Mrs. Hard.Ay,yourtimes were fine times, indeed; you have been telling us ofthemfor many a long year. Here we live in an old rambling 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.

Hard.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.

Mrs. Hard.Lord, Mr. Hardcastle, you're for ever at your Dorothys, and your old wives. 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.

Hard.Let me see; twenty added to twenty, makes just fifty and seven.

Mrs. Hard.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.

Hard.Nor ever will, I dare answer for him. Ay, you have taughthimfinely.

Mrs. Hard.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.

Hard.Learning, quotha! a mere composition of tricks and mischief.

Mrs. Hard.Humour, my dear: nothing but humour. Come, Mr. Hardcastle, you must allow the boy a little humour.

Hard.I'd sooner allow him a horse-pond. If burning the footmen's shoes, frighting the maids, worrying the kittens—be humour, he has it. It was but yesterday he fastenedmy 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.

Mrs. Hard.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!

Hard.Latin for him! A cat and fiddle. No, no, the alehouse and the stable are the only schools he'll ever go to.

Mrs. Hard.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.

Hard.Ay, if growing too fat be one of the symptoms.

Mrs. Hard.He coughs sometimes.

Hard.Yes, when his liquor goes the wrong way.

Mrs. Hard.I'm actually afraid of his lungs.

Hard.And truly so am I; for he sometimes whoops like a speaking trumpet—(Tony hallooing behind the scenes)—O there he goes—A very consumptive figure, truly.

EnterTony,crossing the stage.

Mrs. Hard.Tony, where are you going, my charmer? Won't you give papa and I a little of your company, lovee?

Tony.I'm in haste, mother, I cannot stay.

Mrs. Hard.You shan't venture out this raw evening, my dear; you look most shockingly.

Tony.I can't stay, I tell you. The Three Pigeons expects me down every moment. There's some fun going forward.

Hard.Ay; the alehouse, the old place: I thought so.

Mrs. Hard.A low, paltry set of fellows.

Tony.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.

Mrs. Hard.Pray, my dear, disappoint them for one night at least.

Tony.As for disappointingthem, I should not so much mind; but I can't abide to disappointmyself.

Mrs. Hard.(Detaining him.) You shan't go.

Tony.I will, I tell you.

Mrs. Hard.I say you shan't.

Tony.We'll see which is the strongest, you or I!

Exit, hauling her out.

Hardcastle,solus.

Hard.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.

EnterMiss Hardcastle.

Hard.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.

Miss Hard.You know our agreement, sir. You allow me the morning to receive and pay visits, and todress in my own manner; and in the evening, I put on my housewife's dress to please you.

Hard.Well, remember I insist on the terms of our agreement; and, by the by, I believe I shall have occasion to try your obedience this very evening.

Miss Hard.I protest, sir, I don't comprehend your meaning.

Hard.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.

Miss Hard.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.

Hard.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.

Miss Hard.Is he?

Hard.Very generous.

Miss Hard.I believe I shall like him.

Hard.Young and brave.

Miss Hard.I'm sure I shall like him.

Hard.And very handsome.

Miss Hard.My dear papa, say nomore (kissing his hand), he's mine, I'll have him!

Miss Hardcastle.—"I protest, Sir, Ido not comprehend your meaning."—p.326.

Hard.And to crown all, Kate, he's one of the most bashful and reserved young fellows in all the world.

Miss Hard.Eh! you have frozen me to death again. That wordreserved,has undone all the rest of his accomplishments. A reserved lover, it is said, always makes a suspicious husband.

Hard.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.

Miss Hard.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.

Hard.Ay, Kate, but there is still an obstacle. It's more than an even wager, he may not haveyou.

Miss Hard.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.

Hard.Bravely resolved! In the meantime 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.

Exit.

Miss Hardcastle,sola.

Miss Hard.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 cur'd 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.

EnterMiss Neville.

Miss Hard.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?

Miss Nev.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?

Miss Hard.No; nothing of all this. I have been threatened—I can scarce get it out—I have been threatened with a lover.

Miss Nev.And his name—

Miss Hard.Is Marlow.

Miss Nev.Indeed!

Miss Hard.The son of Sir Charles Marlow.

Miss Nev.As I live, the most intimate friend of Mr. Hastings,myadmirer. They are never asunder. I believe you must have seen him when we lived in town.

Miss Hard.Never.

Miss Nev.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.

Miss Hard.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!

Miss Nev.I have just come from one of our agreeable tête-à-têtes.She has been saying a hundred tender things, and setting off her pretty monster as the very pink of perfection.

Tony.—"Then I'll sing you,gentlemen, a song."—p.330.

Miss Hard.And her partiality is such, that she actually thinks him so. A fortune like yours is no small temptation. Besides, as she has the solemanagement of it, I'm not surprised to see her unwilling to let it go out of the family.

Miss Nev.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.

Miss Hard.My good brother holds out stoutly. I could almost love him for hating you so.

Miss Nev.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.

Miss Hard.Would it were bedtime, and all were well.

Exeunt.

Scene.—An ale house room. Several shabby fellows, with punch and tobacco.Tonyat the head of the table, a little higher than the rest: a mallet in his hand.

Omnes.Hurrea, hurrea, hurrea, bravo!

1 Fel.Now, gentlemen, silence for a song. The 'squire is going to knock himself down for a song.

Omnes.Ay, a song, a song!

Tony.Then I'll sing you, gentlemen, a song I made upon this alehouse, the Three Pigeons.

SONG.

Let school-masters puzzle their brain,With grammar, and nonsense, and learning;Good liquor, I stoutly maintain,Givegenusa better discerning.Let them brag of their heathenish gods,Their Lethes, their Styxes, and Stygians;Theirquis, and theirquæs, and theirquods,They're all but a parcel of pigeons.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 skin full.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.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 birds in the air,Here's a health to the Three Jolly Pigeons!Toroddle, toroddle, toroll.

Let school-masters puzzle their brain,

With grammar, and nonsense, and learning;

Good liquor, I stoutly maintain,

Givegenusa better discerning.

Let them brag of their heathenish gods,

Their Lethes, their Styxes, and Stygians;

Theirquis, and theirquæs, and theirquods,

They're all but a parcel of pigeons.

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 skin full.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.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 skin full.

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.

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 birds in the air,Here's a health to the Three Jolly Pigeons!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 birds in the air,

Here's a health to the Three Jolly Pigeons!

Toroddle, toroddle, toroll.

Omnes.Bravo! bravo!

1 Fel.The 'squire has got spunk in him.

2 Fel.I loves to hear him sing, bekeays he never gives us nothing that'slow.

3 Fel.O damn anything that'slow, I cannot bear it.

4 Fel.The genteel thing, is the genteel thing at any time. If so be that a gentleman bees in a concatenation accordingly.

3 Fel.I like 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."

2 Fel.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.

Tony.Ecod and so it would, Master Slang. I'd then show what it was to keep choice of company.

2 Fel.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 beatinga 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.

Tony.Ecod, and when I'm of age I'll be no bastard, I promise you! I have been thinking of Bett 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?

EnterLandlord.

Land.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.

Tony.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?

Land.I believe they may. They look woundily like Frenchmen.

Tony.Then desire them to step this way, and I'll set them right in a twinkling. (ExitLandlord.) 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.

[Exeunt mob.

Tony,solus.

Tony.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 ofthatif he can.

EnterLandlord,conductingMarlowandHastings.

Marl.What a tedious uncomfortableday have we had of it! We were told it was but forty miles across the country, and we have come above threescore.

Hast.And all, Marlow, from that unaccountable reserve of yours, that would not let us inquire more frequently on the way.

Marl.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.

Hast.At present, however, we are not likely to receive any answer.

Tony.No offence, gentlemen; but I'm told you have been inquiring for one Mr. Hardcastle, in those parts. Do you know what part of the country you are in?

Hast.Not in the least, sir; but should thank you for information.

Tony.Nor the way you came?

Hast.No, sir; but if you can inform us——

Tony.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.

Marl.We wanted no ghost to tell us that.

Tony.Pray, gentlemen, may I be so bold as to ask the place from whence you came?

Marl.That's not necessary towards directing us where we are to go.

Tony.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?

Hast.We have not seen the gentleman; but he has the family you mention.

Tony.The daughter, a tall trapesing, trolloping, talkative May-pole——The son, a pretty, well-bred, agreeable youth, that everybody is fond of.

Marl.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.

Tony.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.

Hast.Unfortunate!

Tony.It's a damn'd long, dark, boggy, dirty, dangerous way. Stingo, tell the gentlemen the way to Mr. Hardcastle's; (winking upon the landlord.) Mr. Hardcastle's, of Quagmire Marsh; you understand me.

Land.Master Hardcastle's? Lack-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.

Marl.Cross down Squash-lane?

Land.Then you were to keep straight forward, till you came to four roads.

Marl.Come to where four roads meet!

Tony.Aye; but you must be sure to take only one of them.

Marl.O sir, you're facetious.

Tony.Then keeping to the right, you are to go sideways till you come upon Crack-skull-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——

Marl.Zounds, man! we could as soon find out the longitude!

Hast.What's to be done, Marlow?

Marl.This house promises but a poor reception; though perhaps the landlord can accommodate us.

Land.Alack, master, we have but one spare bed in the whole house.

Tony.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 would accommodate the gentlemen by the fireside, with—three chairs and a bolster?

Hast.I hate sleeping by the fireside.

Marl.And I detest your three chairs and a bolster.

Tony.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 country?

Hast.O, ho! so we have escaped an adventure for this night, however.

Land.(Apart toTony.) Sure, you ben't sending them to your father's as an inn, be you?

Tony.Mum, you fool you. Letthemfind 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.

Hast.Sir, we are obliged to you. The servants can't miss the way.

Tony.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 thathis mother was an alderman, and his aunt a justice of the peace.

Land.A troublesome old blade, to be sure; but a keeps as good wines and beds as any in the whole country.

Marl.Well, if he supplies us with these, we shall want no further connexion. We are to turn to the right, did you say?

Tony.No, no; straightforward. I'll just step myself, and show you a piece of the way. (To the landlord.) Mum.

Land.Ah, bless your heart, for a sweet, pleasant-damn'd mischievous son of a whore.

Exeunt.

ACT II.

Scene.—An old-fashioned house.

EnterHardcastle,followed by three or four awkward Servants.

Hard.Well, I hope you're 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 stirring from home.

Omnes.Ay, ay.

Hard.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.

Hard.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 behindmychair. 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.

Digg.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—

Hard.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.

Digg.By the laws, your worship, that's parfectly unpossible. Whenever Diggory sees yeating going forward, ecod he's always wishing for a mouthful himself.

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

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

Hard.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.

Digg.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!

Hard.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. (ToDiggory.) Eh, why don't you move?

Digg.Ecod, your worship, I never have courage till I see the eatables and drinkables brought upon the table, and then I'm as bauld as a lion.

Hardcastle.—"You must not beso talkative, Diggory."—p.333.

Hard.What, will nobody move?

1. Serv.I'm not to leave this place.

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

3. Serv.Nor mine, for sartain.

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

Hard.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 welcome at the gate.

ExitHardcastle.

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

Roger.I know that my place is to be everywhere.

1. Serv.Where the devil is mine?

2. Serv.My place is to be no where at all; and so Ize go about my business.

ExeuntServants,running about as if frighted, different ways.

EnterServantwith candles, showing inMarlowandHastings.

Serv.Welcome, gentlemen, very welcome. This way.

Hast.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.

Marl.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.

Hast.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 the bill confoundedly.

Marl.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.

Hast.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 never yet acquire a requisite share of assurance.

Marl.The Englishman's malady. But tell me, George, where could I have learned that assurance you talkof? 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—

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

Marl.They are ofus, you know.

Hast.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.

Marl.Why, man, that's because Idowant 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.

Hast.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—

Marl.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, dressed out in all her finery, is the most tremendous object of the whole creation.

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

Marl.Never, unless, as among kings and princes, my bride were to be courted by proxy. If, indeed, like an eastern bridegroom, one were to beintroduced 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-star question, of—madam, will you marry me?No, no; that's a strain much above me, I assure you.

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

Marl.As I behave to all other ladies: bow very low; answer yes, or no, to all her demands—But for the rest, I don' think I shall venture to look in her face till I see my father's again.

Hast.I am surprised that one who is so warm a friend can be so cool a lover.

Marl.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 a sure of a reception, and let honour do the rest.

Hast.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.

Marl.Happy man! You have talents and art to captivate any woman. I am doomed 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 soarabove the reach of a milliner's prentice, or one of the duchesses of Drury-lane.—Pshaw! this fellow here to interrupt us.

EnterHardcastle.

Hard.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 to give them a hearty reception, in the old style, at my gate. I like to see their horses and trunks taken care of.

Marl.(Aside.) He has got our names from the servants already. (To him.) We approve your caution and hospitality, sir. (ToHastings.) I have been thinking, George, of changing our travelling dresses in the morning. I am grown confoundedly ashamed of mine.

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

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

Hard.Mr. Marlow—Mr. Hastings—gentlemen—pray be under no restraint in this house. This is Liberty Hall, gentlemen. You may do just as you please here.

Marl.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.

Hard.Your talking of a retreat, Mr. Marlow, puts me in mind of the Duke of Marlborough, when he went to besiege Denain. He first summoned the garrison.

Marl.Don't you think theventred'orwaistcoat will do with the plain brown?

Hard.He first summoned the garrison, which might consist of about five thousand men—

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

Hard.I say, gentlemen, as I was telling you, he summoned the garrison, which might consist of about five thousand men—

Marl.The girls like finery.

Hard.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——

Marl.What, my good friend, if you gave us a glass of punch in the meantime? It would help us to carry on the siege with vigour.

Hard.Punch, sir! (Aside.) This is the most unaccountable kind of modesty I ever met with.

Marl.Yes, sir, punch. A glass of warm punch, after our journey, will be comfortable. This is Liberty-hall, you know.

Hard.Here's cup, sir.

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

Hard.(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.

Marl.(Aside.) A very impudentfellow this! but he's a character, and I'll humour him a little. Sir, my service to you.

Drinks.

Hast.(Aside.) I see this fellow wants to give us his company, and forgets that he's an inn-keeper, before he has learned to be a gentleman.

Marl.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.

Hard.No, sir, I have long given that work over. Since our betters have hit upon the expedient of electing each other, there's no businessfor us that sell ale.

Hast.So, then you have no turn for politics I see.

Hard.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 aboutHeyder Alley, orAlly Cawn, than aboutAlly Croaker.—Sir, my service to you.

Hast.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.

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

Marl.(After drinking.) And you have an argument in your cup, old gentleman, better than any in Westminster Hall.

Hard.Ay, young gentleman, that, and a little philosophy.

Marl.(Aside.) Well, this is thefirst time I ever heard of an inn-keeper's philosophy!

Hast.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.

Hard.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.

Marl.Instead of the battle of Belgrade, I think it's almost time to talk about supper. What has your philosophy got in the house for supper?

Hard.For supper, sir! (Aside.) Was ever such a request to a man in his own house?

Marl.Yes, sir; supper, sir: I begin to feel an appetite. I shall make devilish work to-night in the larder, I promise you.

Hard.(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.

Marl.You do, do you?

Hard.Entirely. By-the-by, I believe they are in actual consultation, upon what's for supper, this moment in the kitchen.

Marl.Then I beg they'll admitmeas one of their privy council. It's a way I have got. When I travel, I always choose to regulate my own supper. Let the cook be called. No offence I hope, sir.

Hard.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.

Hast.Let's see the list of the larder then. I ask it as a favour. I always match my appetite to my bill of fare.

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

Hard.Sir, you have a right to command here. Roger, bring us the bill of fare for to-night's supper. I believe it's drawn up. 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.

Hast.(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.

Marl.(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 the whole joiner's company, or the corporation of Bedford, to eat up such a supper? Two or three little things, clean and comfortable, will do.

Hast.But let's hear it.

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

Hast.Damn your pig, I say.

Marl.And damn your pruin sauce, say I.

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

Marl.At the bottom, a calf's tongue and brains.

Hast.Let your brains be knocked out, my good sir; I don't like them.

Marl.Or you may clap them on a plate by themselves. I do.

Hard.(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?

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

Hast.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.

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