酷兔英语

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TONY. What do you follow me for, cousin Con? I wonder you're not



ashamed to be so very engaging.

MISS NEVILLE. I hope, cousin, one may speak to one's own relations,



and not be to blame.

TONY. Ay, 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



entertaining. 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

concluded 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 above some of our neighbouring rustics; but who can



have a manner, that has never seen the Pantheon, the Grotto Gardens,

the Borough, and such places where the nobilitychieflyresort? All I



can do is to enjoy London at second-hand. I take care to know every

tete-a-tete from the Scandalous Magazine, 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. Hastings?



HASTINGS. Extremely elegant and degagee, upon my word, madam. Your

friseur is a Frenchman, I suppose?



MRS. HARDCASTLE. I protest, I dressed it myself from a print in the

Ladies' 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 Mayoress 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.)

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 clothes. I have often wanted



him to throw off his great flaxen wig, and where he was bald, to

plaster 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 wanted him to throw off his wig,



to convert it into a tete 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 ensuing winter.

MRS. HARDCASTLE. Seriously. Then I shall be too young for the



fashion.

HASTINGS. No lady begins now to put on jewels till she's past forty.



For instance, Miss there, in a politecircle, 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 already. (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 another story



behind your back.

MISS NEVILLE. There's something generous in my cousin's manner. 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 are like

each other about the mouth, 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.






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