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 rocked you in your
cradle, and fed that pretty mouth with a spoon! Did not I work that
waistcoat to make you
genteel? Did not I
prescribe for you every day,
and weep while the
receipt was operating?
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
Huswife ten times over; and you have thoughts of coursing me through
Quincy next spring. But, ecod! I tell you, I'll not be made a fool of
no longer.
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
spirits. No, Tony, you then go to the alehouse or
kennel. I'm never
to be
delighted with your
agreeable 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.
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.]
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 choosing, I dare answer? And
yet she appears to me a pretty well-tempered girl.
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 cantankerous toad
in all Christendom.
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. Ay, before company. But when she's with her
playmate, she's as
loud as a hog in a gate.
HASTINGS. But there is a meek
modesty" target="_blank" title="n.谨慎;端庄;羞怯">
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, mun. Ah! could you but see
Bet Bouncer of these parts, you might then talk of beauty. Ecod, she
has two eyes as black as sloes, and cheeks as broad and red as a pulpit
cushion. She'd make two of she.
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 Neville, and leave
you to happiness and your dear Betsy?
TONY. Ay; 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.
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.]
ACT THE THIRD.
Enter HARDCASTLE, alone.
HARDCASTLE. What could my old friend Sir Charles mean by recommending
his son as the
modestest young man in town? To me he appears the most
impudent piece of brass that ever spoke with a tongue. He has taken
possession of the easy chair by the fire-side already. He took off his
boots in the parlour, and desired me to see them taken care of. I'm
desirous to know how his impudence affects my daughter. She will
certainly be shocked at it.
Enter MISS HARDCASTLE,
plainly dressed.
HARDCASTLE. Well, my Kate, I see you have changed your dress, as I
bade you; and yet, I believe, there was no great occasion.
MISS HARDCASTLE. I find such a pleasure, sir, in obeying your
commands, that I take care to observe them without ever debating their
propriety.
HARDCASTLE. And yet, Kate, I sometimes give you some cause,
particularly when I recommended my
modest gentleman to you as a lover
to-day.
MISS HARDCASTLE. You taught me to expect something
extraordinary, and
I find the original exceeds the description.
HARDCASTLE. I was never so surprised in my life! He has quite
confounded all my faculties!
MISS HARDCASTLE. I never saw anything like it: and a man of the world
too!
HARDCASTLE. Ay, he
learned it all abroad--what a fool was I, to think
a young man could learn
modesty" target="_blank" title="n.谨慎;端庄;羞怯">
modesty by travelling. He might as soon learn
wit at a masquerade.
MISS HARDCASTLE. It seems all natural to him.
HARDCASTLE. A good deal
assisted by bad company and a French
dancing-master.
MISS HARDCASTLE. Sure you mistake, papa! A French dancing-master
could never have taught him that timid look--that
awkward address--that
bashful manner--
HARDCASTLE. Whose look? whose manner, child?
MISS HARDCASTLE. Mr. Marlow's: his mauvaise honte, his timidity,
struck me at the first sight.
HARDCASTLE. Then your first sight deceived you; for I think him one of
the most
brazen first sights that ever astonished my senses.
MISS HARDCASTLE. Sure, sir, you rally! I never saw any one so
modest.
HARDCASTLE. And can you be serious? I never saw such a bouncing,
swaggering puppy since I was born. Bully Dawson was but a fool to him.
MISS HARDCASTLE. Surprising! He met me with a
respectful bow, a
stammering voice, and a look fixed on the ground.
HARDCASTLE. He met me with a loud voice, a
lordly air, and a
familiarity that made my blood
freeze again.
MISS HARDCASTLE. He treated me with diffidence and respect; censured
the manners of the age; admired the
prudence of girls that never
laughed; tired me with apologies for being
tiresome; then left the room
with a bow, and "Madam, I would not for the world
detain you."
HARDCASTLE. He spoke to me as if he knew me all his life before;
asked twenty questions, and never waited for an answer; interrupted my
best remarks with some silly pun; and when I was in my best story of
the Duke of Marlborough and Prince Eugene, he asked if I had not a good
hand at making punch. Yes, Kate, he asked your father if he was a
maker of punch!
MISS HARDCASTLE. One of us must certainly be
mistaken.
HARDCASTLE. If he be what he has shown himself, I'm determined he
shall never have my consent.
MISS HARDCASTLE. And if he be the
sullen thing I take him, he shall
never have mine.
HARDCASTLE. In one thing then we are agreed--to
reject him.
MISS HARDCASTLE. Yes: but upon conditions. For if you should find him
less impudent, and I more presuming--if you find him more
respectful,
and I more importunate--I don't know--the fellow is well enough for a
man--Certainly, we don't meet many such at a horse-race in the country.
HARDCASTLE. If we should find him so----But that's impossible. The
first appearance has done my business. I'm seldom deceived in that.
MISS HARDCASTLE. And yet there may be many good qualities under that
first appearance.
HARDCASTLE. Ay, when a girl finds a fellow's outside to her taste, she
then sets about guessing the rest of his furniture. With her, a smooth
face stands for good sense, and a
genteel figure for every virtue.
MISS HARDCASTLE. I hope, sir, a conversation begun with a compliment
to my good sense, won't end with a sneer at my understanding?
HARDCASTLE. Pardon me, Kate. But if young Mr. Brazen can find the art
of reconciling contradictions, he may please us both, perhaps.
MISS HARDCASTLE. And as one of us must be
mistaken, what if we go to
make further discoveries?
HARDCASTLE. Agreed. But depend on't I'm in the right.
MISS HARDCASTLE. And depend on't I'm not much in the wrong.
[Exeunt.]
Enter Tony,
running in with a casket.
TONY. Ecod! I have got them. Here they are. My cousin Con's
necklaces, bobs and all. My mother shan't cheat the poor souls out of
their fortin neither. O! my genus, is that you?
Enter HASTINGS.
HASTINGS. My dear friend, how have you managed with your mother? I
hope you have amused her with pretending love for your cousin, and that
you are
willing to be reconciled at last? Our horses will be refreshed
in a short time, and we shall soon be ready to set off.
TONY. And here's something to bear your charges by the way (giving the
casket); your sweetheart's jewels. Keep them: and hang those, I say,
that would rob you of one of them.
HASTINGS. But how have you
procured them from your mother?
TONY. Ask me no questions, and I'll tell you no fibs. I
procured them
by the rule of thumb. If I had not a key to every
drawer in mother's
bureau, how could I go to the alehouse so often as I do? An honest man
may rob himself of his own at any time.
HASTINGS. Thousands do it every day. But to be plain with you; Miss
Neville is endeavouring to
procure them from her aunt this very
instant. If she succeeds, it will be the most
delicate way at least of
obtaining them.
TONY. Well, keep them, till you know how it will be. But I know how
it will be well enough; she'd as soon part with the only sound tooth in
her head.
HASTINGS. But I dread the effects of her
resentment, when she finds
she has lost them.
TONY. Never you mind her
resentment, leave ME to manage that. I
don't value her
resentment the
bounce of a
cracker. Zounds! here they
are. Morrice! Prance! [Exit HASTINGS.]
Enter MRS. HARDCASTLE and MISS NEVILLE.
MRS. HARDCASTLE. Indeed, Constance, you amaze me. Such a girl as you
want jewels! It will be time enough for jewels, my dear, twenty years
hence, when your beauty begins to want
repairs.
MISS NEVILLE. But what will
repair beauty at forty, will certainly
improve it at twenty, madam.
MRS. HARDCASTLE. Yours, my dear, can admit of none. That natural
blush is beyond a thousand ornaments. Besides, child, jewels are quite
out at present. Don't you see half the ladies of our
acquaintance, my
Lady Kill-daylight, and Mrs. Crump, and the rest of them, carry their