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Miss Neu. O lud! he has almost cracked my head.
Mrs. Hard. 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. Hard. Is this, ungrateful boy, all that I'm to get for the pains I have taken in your education ? I that have rock'd 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,
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, l'll not be made a fool of no longer.
Mrs. Hard. 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. Hard. 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. Hard. Was ever the like? But I see he wants to break my heart, I see he does.
Hast. Dear Madam, permit me to lecture the young gentlemam a little. I'm certain I can persuade him to his duty.
Mrs. Hard. Well! I must retire. Come, Con. stance, 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.
Hast. Then you're no friend to the ladies, I find, my pretty young gentleman ?
Tony. That's as I find 'um.
Hast. Not to her of your mother's choosing, I dare answer? And yet she appears to me a pretty welltempered 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 cantanckerous toad in all Christendom.
Hast. [ 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.
Hast. To me she appears sensible and silent!
Tony. Ay, before company. But when she's with her play-mates she's as loud as a hog in a gate.
Hast. But there is a meek modesty about her that charms me.
Tony. Yes, but curb her never so little, she kicks up, and you're Aung in a ditch,
Hast. 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. Hast. Well, what say you to
friend that would take this bitter bargain off your hands?
Hast. 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 ?
Hast. 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. Hast. 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
ACT III. SCENE 1.
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 cer. tainly be shocked at it.
Enter Miss HARDCASTLE, plainly dress’d. Hard. Well, my Kate, I see you have changed
your dress as I bid you; and yet, I believe, there was no great occasion.
Miss Hard. I find such a pleasure, Sir, in obeying your commands, that I take care to observe them without ever debating their propriety.
Hard. And yet, Kate, I sometimes give you some cause, particularly when I recommended my modest gentleman to you as a lover to-day.
Miss Hard. You taught me to expect something extraordinary, and I find the original exceeds the deScription.
Hard. I was never so surprised in my life! He has quite confounded all my faculties !
Miss Hard. I never saw any thing like it: And a man of the world too!
Hard. Ay, he learned it all abroad,—what a fool was I, to think a young man could learn modesty by travelling He might as soon learn wit at a masque. rade.
Miss Hard. It seems all natural to him.
Hard. A good deal assisted by bad company and a French dancing-master.
Miss Hard. Sure you mistake, papa! a French dancing-master could never have taught him that timid look that awkward address that bashful man.
Hard. Whose look? whose manner? child !
Miss Hard. Mr. Marlow's: his mauvaise honte, his timidity struck me at the first sight.
Hard. Then your first sight deceived you; for I