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, fo that I can fcarcely fpeak it-it affects nie. Farewell. [Exit. Mifs HARDCAST LE. I never knew half his merit till now. He fhall not go, if I have power or art to detain him. I'll ftill preferve the character in which I ftoop'd to conquer, but will undeceive my papa, who, perhaps, may laugh him out of his refolution. [Exit. Enter TONY, Mifs NEVILLE. TONY. Ay, you may fteal for yourselves the next time. I have done my duty. She has got the jewels again, that's a fure thing; but fhe believes it was all a mistake of the fervants. Mifs NE VILLE. But, my dear coufin, fure you won't forfake us in this diftrefs. If the in the leaft fufpects that I am going off, I fhall certainly be locked up, or fent to my aunt Pedigree's, which is ten times worse. TONY. To be fure, 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 fure you can't fay but I have courted you nicely before her face. Here fhe comes, we must court a bit or two more, for fear fhe fhould fufpect us. [They retire, and feem to fondle. Enter Enter Mrs. HARDCASTLE. Mrs. HARDCASTLE. Well, I was greatly fluttered, to be fure. But my fon tells me it was all a mistake of the fervants. I shan't be easy, however, till they are fairly married, and then let her keep her own fortune. But what do I fee! Fondling together, as I'm alive. I never faw Tony fo fprightly before. Ah! have I caught you, my pretty doves! What, billing, exchanging ftolen glances, and broken murmurs. Ah! TONY. As for murmurs, mother, we grumble a little now and then, to be fure. but there's no love loft between us. Mrs. HARDCASTLE. A mere fprinkling, Tony, upon the flame, only to make it burn brighter. Mifs NEVILLE. Coufin Tony promifes to give us more of his company at home. Indeed, he fhan't leave us any more. It won't leave us coufin Tony, will it? TONY. O! it's a pretty creature. No, I'd fooner leave my horse in a pound, than leave you when you fmile upon one fo. Your laugh makes you fo becoming. Mifs NEVILLE. Agreeable coufin! Who can help admiring that natural humour, that pleafant, broad, red, thoughtless, (patting his cheek) ah! it's a bold face. Mrs. HARDCASTLE. Pretty innocence. TONY. TONY. I'm fure I always lov'd coufin Con's hazle eyes, and her pretty long fingers, that she twifts this way and that, over the hafpicholls, like a parcel of bobbins. Mrs. HARDCASTLE. Ah, he would charm the bird from the tree. I was never fo happy before. My boy takes after his father, poor Mr. Lumpkin, exactly. The jewels, my dear Con, fhall be your's incontinently. You fhall have them. Isn't he a fweet boy, my dear? You fhall be married to-morrow, and we'll put off the reft of his education, like Dr. Drowfy's fermons, 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. ters first. She reads all my let DIGGORY. I had orders to deliver it into your own hands? TONY. Who does it come from? DIGGOR Y. Your worship mun ask that o' the letter itself. TONY. I could wish to know, tho' [turning the letter, and gazing on it.] Mifs NEVILLE. [Afide.] Undone, undone. A letter to him from Haftings. I know the hand. If my aunt fees it, we are ruined for ever. I'll keep her em ploy'd ploy'd a little if I can. [To Mrs. Hardcastle.] But I have not told you, Madam, of my coufin's fmart answer juft now to Mr. Marlow. We fo laugh'd -You must know, Madam-this way a little, for he must not hear us. [They confer. TONY. [Still gazing.] A damn'd cramp piece of penmanship, as ever I faw in my life. I can read your print-hand very well. But here there are fuch handles, and fhanks, and dashes, that one can fcarce tell the head from the tail. To Anthony Lumpkin, Efquire. It's very odd, I can read the outfide 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 correfpondence. Mrs. HARDCASTLE. Ha, ha, ha. Very well. Very well. And fo my fon was too hard for the philofopher. Mifs 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, methinks. TONY. [Still gazing.] A damn'd up and down hand, as if it was difguifed in liquor. [Reading. Dear Sir. Ay, 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. Mrs. HARDCASTLE. What's that, my dear. Can I give you any affiftance? Mif Mifs NEVILLE. Pray, aunt, let me read it. No body reads a cramp hand better than I. (twitching the letter from ber.) Do you know who it is from? TONY. Can't tell, except from Dick Ginger the feeder. Ay, fo it is, (pretending to read) Dear Squire, Hoping that you're in health, as I am at this prefent. The gentlemen of the Shake-bag club has cut the gentlemen of goofe-green quite out of feather. The odds-um-odd battle-um-long fighting-um here, here, it's all about cocks, and fighting; it's of no confequence, here, put it up, put it up, [thrufting the crumpled letter upon him. TONY. But I tell you, Mifs, it's of all the confequence in the world. I would not lofe the reft of it for a guinea. Here, mother, do you make it out. Of no confequence! (giving Mrs. Hardcastle the letter. Mrs. HARDCASTLE. How's this. (reads) Dear Squire, I'm now wait ing for Mifs Neville, with a poft-chaife and pair, at the bottom of the garden, but I find my horfes yet unable to perform the journey. I expect you'll affift us with a pair of fresh horfes, as you promifed. Dispatch is neceffary, as the bag (ay the hag) your mother will otherwife fufpect us. Your's, Haftings. Grant me patience. I fhall run diftracted. My rage choaks ine. Mifs NEVILLE. I hope, Madam, you'll fufpend your refentment for a few moments, and not impute to me any impertinence, or finifter defign that belongs to ano ther. Mrs |