jewels to town, and bring nothing but paste and marcasites back.
MISS NEVILLE. But who knows, madam, but somebody that shall be
nameless would like me best with all my little finery about me?
MRS. HARDCASTLE. Consult your glass, my dear, and then see if, with
such a pair of eyes, you want any better sparklers. What do you think,
Tony, my dear? does your cousin Con. want any jewels in your eyes to
set off her beauty?
TONY. That's as
thereafter may be.
MISS NEVILLE. My dear aunt, if you knew how it would
oblige me.
MRS. HARDCASTLE. A
parcel of
old-fashioned rose and table-cut things.
They would make you look like the court of King Solomon at a
puppet-show. Besides, I believe, I can't
readily come at them. They
may be
missing, for aught I know to the contrary.
TONY. (Apart to MRS. HARDCASTLE.) Then why don't you tell her so at
once, as she's so
longing for them? Tell her they're lost. It's the
only way to quiet her. Say they're lost, and call me to bear
witness.
MRS. HARDCASTLE. (Apart to TONY.) You know, my dear, I'm only
keeping them for you. So if I say they're gone, you'll bear me
witness, will you? He! he! he!
TONY. Never fear me. Ecod! I'll say I saw them taken out with my own
eyes.
MISS NEVILLE. I desire them but for a day, madam. Just to be
permitted to show them as relics, and then they may be locked up
again.
MRS. HARDCASTLE. To be plain with you, my dear Constance, if I could
find them you should have them. They're
missing, I assure you. Lost,
for aught I know; but we must have
patiencewherever they are.
MISS NEVILLE. I'll not believe it! this is but a
shallowpretence to
deny me. I know they are too
valuable to be so
slightly kept, and as
you are to answer for the loss--
MRS. HARDCASTLE. Don't be alarmed, Constance. If they be lost, I must
restore an
equivalent. But my son knows they are
missing, and not to
be found.
TONY. That I can bear
witness to. They are
missing, and not to be
found; I'll take my oath on't.
MRS. HARDCASTLE. You must learn
resignation, my dear; for though we
lose our fortune, yet we should not lose our
patience. See me, how
calm I am.
MISS NEVILLE. Ay, people are generally calm at the misfortunes of
others.
MRS. HARDCASTLE. Now I wonder a girl of your good sense should waste a
thought upon such trumpery. We shall soon find them; and in the mean
time you shall make use of my garnets till your jewels be found.
MISS NEVILLE. I
detest garnets.
MRS. HARDCASTLE. The most becoming things in the world to set off a
clear
complexion. You have often seen how well they look upon me. You
SHALL have them. [Exit.]
MISS NEVILLE. I
dislike them of all things. You shan't stir.--Was
ever anything so provoking, to mislay my own jewels, and force me to
wear her trumpery?
TONY. Don't be a fool. If she gives you the garnets, take what you
can get. The jewels are your own already. I have
stolen them out of
her
bureau, and she does not know it. Fly to your spark, he'll tell
you more of the matter. Leave me to manage her.
MISS NEVILLE. My dear cousin!
TONY. Vanish. She's here, and has missed them already. [Exit MISS
NEVILLE.] Zounds! how she fidgets and spits about like a Catherine
wheel.
Enter MRS. HARDCASTLE.
MRS. HARDCASTLE. Confusion! thieves! robbers! we are cheated,
plundered, broke open, undone.
TONY. What's the matter, what's the matter, mamma? I hope nothing has
happened to any of the good family!
MRS. HARDCASTLE. We are robbed. My
bureau has been broken open, the
jewels taken out, and I'm undone.
TONY. Oh! is that all? Ha! ha! ha! By the laws, I never saw it
acted better in my life. Ecod, I thought you was ruined in
earnest,
ha! ha! ha!
MRS. HARDCASTLE. Why, boy, I AM ruined in
earnest. My
bureau has been
broken open, and all taken away.
TONY. Stick to that: ha! ha! ha! stick to that. I'll bear
witness,
you know; call me to bear
witness.
MRS. HARDCASTLE. I tell you, Tony, by all that's precious, the jewels
are gone, and I shall be ruined for ever.
TONY. Sure I know they're gone, and I'm to say so.
MRS. HARDCASTLE. My dearest Tony, but hear me. They're gone, I say.
TONY. By the laws, mamma, you make me for to laugh, ha! ha! I know
who took them well enough, ha! ha! ha!
MRS. HARDCASTLE. Was there ever such a blockhead, that can't tell the
difference between jest and
earnest? I tell you I'm not in jest,
booby.
TONY. That's right, that's right; you must be in a bitter
passion, and
then nobody will
suspect either of us. I'll bear
witness that they are
gone.
MRS. HARDCASTLE. Was there ever such a cross-grained brute, that
won't hear me? Can you bear
witness that you're no better than a
fool? Was ever poor woman so beset with fools on one hand, and
thieves on the other?
TONY. I can bear
witness to that.
MRS. HARDCASTLE. Bear
witness again, you blockhead you, and I'll turn
you out of the room directly. My poor niece, what will become of her?
Do you laugh, you unfeeling brute, as if you enjoyed my distress?
TONY. I can bear
witness to that.
MRS. HARDCASTLE. Do you
insult me,
monster? I'll teach you to vex
your mother, I will.
TONY. I can bear
witness to that. [He runs off, she follows him.]
Enter Miss HARDCASTLE and Maid.
MISS HARDCASTLE. What an unaccountable creature is that brother of
mine, to send them to the house as an inn! ha! ha! I don't wonder at
his impudence.
MAID. But what is more, madam, the young gentleman, as you passed by
in your present dress, asked me if you were the bar-maid. He mistook
you for the bar-maid, madam.
MISS HARDCASTLE. Did he? Then as I live, I'm
resolved to keep up the
delusion. Tell me, Pimple, how do you like my present dress? Don't
you think I look something like Cherry in the Beaux Stratagem?
MAID. It's the dress, madam, that every lady wears in the country, but
when she visits or receives company.
MISS HARDCASTLE. And are you sure he does not remember my face or
person?
MAID. Certain of it.
MISS HARDCASTLE. I vow, I thought so; for, though we spoke for some
time together, yet his fears were such, that he never once looked up
during the
interview. Indeed, if he had, my
bonnet would have kept him
from
seeing me.
MAID. But what do you hope from keeping him in his mistake?
MISS HARDCASTLE. In the first place I shall be seen, and that is no
small
advantage to a girl who brings her face to market. Then I shall
perhaps make an
acquaintance, and that's no small
victory gained over
one who never addresses any but the wildest of her sex. But my chief
aim is, to take my gentleman off his guard, and, like an invisible
champion of
romance, examine the giant's force before I offer to
combat.
MAID. But you are sure you can act your part, and
disguise your voice
so that he may mistake that, as he has already
mistaken your person?
MISS HARDCASTLE. Never fear me. I think I have got the true bar
cant--Did your honour call?--Attend the Lion there--Pipes and tobacco
for the Angel.--The Lamb has been
outrageous this half-hour.
MAID. It will do, madam. But he's here. [Exit MAID.]
Enter MARLOW.
MARLOW. What a bawling in every part of the house! I have
scarce a
moment's
repose. If I go to the best room, there I find my host and
his story: if I fly to the
gallery, there we have my
hostess with her
curtsey down to the ground. I have at last got a moment to myself, and
now for
recollection. [Walks and muses.]
MISS HARDCASTLE. Did you call, sir? Did your honour call?
MARLOW. (Musing.) As for Miss Hardcastle, she's too grave and
sentimental for me.
MISS HARDCASTLE. Did your honour call? (She still places herself
before him, he turning away.)
MARLOW. No, child. (Musing.) Besides, from the
glimpse I had of her,
I think she squints.
MISS HARDCASTLE. I'm sure, sir, I heard the bell ring.
MARLOW. No, no. (Musing.) I have pleased my father, however, by
coming down, and I'll to-morrow please myself by returning. [Taking
out his tablets, and perusing.]
MISS HARDCASTLE. Perhaps the other gentleman called, sir?
MARLOW. I tell you, no.
MISS HARDCASTLE. I should be glad to know, sir. We have such a
parcel of servants!
MARLOW. No, no, I tell you. (Looks full in her face.) Yes, child, I
think I did call. I wanted--I wanted--I vow, child, you are vastly
handsome.
MISS HARDCASTLE. O la, sir, you'll make one ashamed.
MARLOW. Never saw a more
sprightlymalicious eye. Yes, yes, my dear,
I did call. Have you got any of your--a--what d'ye call it in the
house?
MISS HARDCASTLE. No, sir, we have been out of that these ten days.
MARLOW. One may call in this house, I find, to very little purpose.
Suppose I should call for a taste, just by way of a trial, of the
nectar of your lips; perhaps I might be disappointed in that too.
MISS HARDCASTLE. Nectar! nectar! That's a
liquor there's no call for
in these parts. French, I suppose. We sell no French wines here, sir.
MARLOW. Of true English growth, I assure you.
MISS HARDCASTLE. Then it's odd I should not know it. We brew all
sorts of wines in this house, and I have lived here these eighteen
years.
MARLOW. Eighteen years! Why, one would think, child, you kept the bar
before you were born. How old are you?
MISS HARDCASTLE. O! sir, I must not tell my age. They say women and
music should never be dated.
MARLOW. To guess at this distance, you can't be much above forty
(approaching). Yet, nearer, I don't think so much (approaching). By
coming close to some women they look younger still; but when we come
very close indeed--(attempting to kiss her).
MISS HARDCASTLE. Pray, sir, keep your distance. One would think you
wanted to know one's age, as they do horses, by mark of mouth.
MARLOW. I protest, child, you use me
extremely ill. If you keep me at
this distance, how is it possible you and I can ever be acquainted?
MISS HARDCASTLE. And who wants to be acquainted with you? I want no
such
acquaintance, not I. I'm sure you did not treat Miss Hardcastle,
that was here
awhile ago, in this obstropalous manner. I'll warrant
me, before her you looked dashed, and kept bowing to the ground, and
talked, for all the world, as if you was before a justice of peace.
MARLOW. (Aside.) Egad, she has hit it, sure enough! (To her.) In
awe of her, child? Ha! ha! ha! A mere
awkward squinting thing; no,
no. I find you don't know me. I laughed and rallied her a little; but
I was
unwilling to be too
severe. No, I could not be too
severe, curse
me!
MISS HARDCASTLE. O! then, sir, you are a favourite, I find, among the
ladies?
MARLOW. Yes, my dear, a great favourite. And yet hang me, I don't see
what they find in me to follow. At the Ladies' Club in town I'm called
their
agreeable Rattle. Rattle, child, is not my real name, but one
I'm known by. My name is Solomons; Mr. Solomons, my dear, at your
service. (Offering to
salute her.)
MISS HARDCASTLE. Hold, sir; you are introducing me to your club, not
to yourself. And you're so great a favourite there, you say?
MARLOW. Yes, my dear. There's Mrs. Mantrap, Lady Betty Blackleg, the
Countess of Sligo, Mrs. Langhorns, old Miss Biddy Buckskin, and your
humble servant, keep up the spirit of the place.