have seen so much of the finest company, can find little entertainment in an obscure corner of the country. Mar. [Gathering courage.] I have lived, indeed, in the world, madam; but I have kept very little company. I have been but an observer upon life, madam, while others were enjoying it. Miss H. An observer, like you, upon life, was, I fear, disagreeably employed, since you must have had much more to censure than to approve. Mar. Pardon me, madam: I was always willing to be amused. The folly of most people is rather an object of my mirth than uneasiness. Hast. [Aside to MAR.] Bravo, bravo! Never spoke so well in your whole life. Well, Miss Hardcastle, I see that you and Mr. Marlow are going to be very good company. I believe our being here will but embarrass the interview. Mar. Not in the least, Mr. Hastings. We like your company of all things. Aside to HAST.] Zounds! George, sure you won't go. How can you leave us? Hast. Our presence will but spoil conversation, so we'll retire to the next room. [Aside to MAR. You don't consider, man, that we are to manage a little tête-à-tête of our own [Exit with Miss N. Miss H. [After a pause.] But you have not been wholly an observer, I presume, sir. The ladies, I hope, have employed some part of your addresses. Mar. [Relapsing into timidity.] Pardon me, madam, 1-1-1-as yet have studied-only--to-deserve them. Miss H. And that, some say, is the very worst way to obtain them. Mar. Perhaps so, madam: but I love to converse only with the more grave and sensible part of the sex. But I'm afraid I grow tiresome. Miss H. Not at all, sir; there is nothing I like so much as grave conversation myself: I could hear it for ever. Indeed, I have often been surprised how a man of sentiment could ever admire those light, airy pleasures, where nothing reaches the heart. Mar. It's a disease of the mind, madam. In variety of tastes, there must be some who wanting a relish for-um-a-um. Miss H. I understand you, sir. There must be some who, wanting a relish for refined pleasures, pretend to despise what they are incapable of tasting Mar. My meaning, madam; but infinitely better expressed. And I can't help observing, that in this age of hypocrisy-a Miss H. Who could ever suppose this fellow impudent on some occasions? [Aside.] You were going to observe, sir Mar. I was observing, madam-I protest, madam, I forget what I was going to observe. Miss H. I vow, and so do I. [Aside.] You were observing, sir, that in this age of hypocrisy,-something about hypocrisy, sir. Mar. Yes, madam; in this age of hypocrisy, there are few who, upon strict inquiry, do not-a-aMiss H. I understand you perfectly, sir. Mar. [Aside.] Egad! and that's more than I do myself. Miss H. You mean that, in this hypocritical age, there are few that do not condemn in public, what they practise in private, and think they pay every debt to virtue when they praise it. Mar. True, madam; those who have most virtue in their mouths, have least of it in their bosoms. But see Miss Neville expecting us in the next room. I would not intrude for the world. Miss H. I protest, sir, I never was more agreeably entertained in all my life. Pray, go on. Mar. Yes, madam. I was but she beckons us to join her. Madam, shall I do myself the honour to attend you. Miss H. Well, then, I'll follow. Mar. [Aside.] This pretty smooth dialogue has done for me. [Erit. Miss H. Ha, ha, ha! Was there ever such a sober, sentimental interview? I'm certain he scarce looked me in my face the whole time. Yet the fellow, but for his unaccountable bashfulness, is pretty well too. He has good sense, but then so buried in his fears, that it fatigues one more than ignorance. If I could teach him a little confidence, it would be doing somebody that I know of, a piece of service. But who is that somebody ?-that, faith, is a question I can scarcely answer. [Exit. Enter TONY and Miss NEVILLE, followed by Mrs. HARDCASTLE and HASTINGS. Tony. What do you follow me for, cousin Con? I wonder you're not ashamed to be so very engaging. Miss N. 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. Itell 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. H. 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. Hast. 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 Towerwharf. Mrs. H. Oh! 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 nobility chiefly resort; all I can do, is to enjoy London at second-hand. I take care to know every tête-à-tête 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? Hast. Extremely elegant and degagée, upon my word. Your friseur is a Frenchman, I suppose. Mrs. H. I protest I dressed it myself from a print in the Ladies' Memorandum-book for the last year. Hast. 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. H. One must dress a little particular, or one may escape in the crowd. Hast. But that can never be your case, madam, in any dress. [Bowing.] Mrs. H. Yet, what signifies my dressing, when I have such a piece of antiquity by my side as Mr. Hardcastle? All I can say will not 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. Hast. You are right, madam; for, as among the ladies there are none ugly, so among the men there are none old. Mrs. H. But what do you think his answer was? Why, with his usual gothic vivacity, he said, I only Hast. No lady begins now to put on jewels till she's past forty. For instance, miss there, in a polite circle, would be considered as a child, a mere maker of samplers. Mrs. H. And yet, Mrs. Niece thinks herself as much a woman, and is as fond of jewels, as the oldest of us all. Hast. Your niece, is she? And that young gentleman, a brother of your's, I should presume? Mrs. H. 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 that's left to myself but the stable He's Mrs. H. Never mind him, Con., my dear. in another story behind your back. Miss N. There's something generous in my cousin's manner. He falls out before faces, to be forgiven in private. Tony. That's a d-d confounded-crack. Mrs. H. Ah! he's a sly one. Don't you think they're 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. Tony. You had as good not make me, I tell you. Miss N. Oh, lud! he has almost cracked my head. Mrs. H. Oh! 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 any longer. Mrs. H. 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 look genteel? Tony. But, ecod! I tell you I'll not be made fool of no longer. a Mrs. H. Wasn't it all for your good, viper? Wasn't it ail 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. H. 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. H. 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 gentleman a little. I'm certain I can per suade him to his duty. Mrs. H. 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! [Exit with Miss N. Tony. [Singing.] And fain would have his will. Rang do dillo 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 'em. Hast. 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. Hast. Pretty encouragement for a lover! [Aside.] 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. her playmates, she's as loud as a hog in a gate. Tony. Ay, before company. But when she's with 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 flung in the 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 a friend that would take this bitter bargain off your hands? Tony. Anan? Hast. Would you thank him that would take Miss Neville, and leave you to happiness and your dear Betsy? who would take her? Tony. Ay; but where is there such a friend? for 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. of my blood. I'll clap a pair of horses to your Tony. Assist you! Ecod! I will to the last drop 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 that fear no noise," &c. [Exeunt. for a man. Certainly, we don't meet many such at a horse-race in the country. impudent piece of brass that ever spoke with a tongue. He has taken possession of the easy chair by the fireside 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. Well, Kate, I see you have changed your dress as I bid you; and yet, I think, there was no great occasion. Miss H. I find such a pleasure, sir, in obeying your commands, that I take care to observe them, without ever debating their propriety, Hard. If we should find him so-but that's impos. sible. The first appearance has done my business. I'm seldom deceived in that. Miss H. And yet, there may be many good qualities under that first appearance. But as one of us must be mistaken, what if we go to make further discoveries? Hard. Agreed. But depend on't, I'm in the right. Miss H. 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. Μν mother sha'n't cheat the poor souls out of their Miss H. You taught me to expect something ex-fortin, neither. O! my genius, is that you? traordinary, and I find the original exceeds the description. Hard. And yet, Kate, I sometimes give you some cause, particularly when I recommended my modest gentleman to you as a lover to-day. Hard. I was never so surprised in my life. He has quite confounded all my faculties. Miss H. I never saw anything like it; and a man of the world, too!. Hard. Ay, he learned it all abroad. Miss H. It seems all natural to him. Hard. A good deal assisted by bad company, and a French dancing-master. Miss H. Sure, you mistake, papa! A French dancing-master could never have taught him that timid look, that awkward address, that bashful Hard. 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 H. Surprising! He met me with a respectful bow, a stammering voice, and a look fixed on the ground. Hard. He met me with a loud voice, a lordly air, and a familiarity that made my blood freeze again. Miss H. 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; and then left the room with a bow, and, Madam, I would not for the world detain you.' Hard. 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 was not a good hand at making punch. Yes, Kate, he asked your father if he was a maker of punch! Miss H. One of us must certainly be mistaken. Hard. If he be what he has shewn himself, I'm determined he shall never have my consent. Miss H. And if he be the sullen thing I take him, he shall never have mine. Hard. In one thing, then, we are agreed-to reject him. Enter HASTINGS. Hast. 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. Hast. 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. Hast. 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 suc ceeds, 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. Hast. 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. H. 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 N. But what will repair beauty at forty, will certainly improve it at twenty, madam. Mrs. H. Your's, 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-day-light, and Mrs. Crump, and the rest of them, carry their jewels to town, and bring nothing but paste and marcasites back? Miss N. But who knows, madam, but somebody that shall be nameless, would like me best with all my finery about me? Mrs. H. 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 Miss H. 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 | set off her beauty? Tony. That's as hereafter may be. Miss N. My dear aunt, if you knew how it would oblige me. Mrs. H. A parcel of old-fashioned rose and tablecut 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. H.] 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. H. [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. [Aside to MRS. H.] Miss N. I desire them but for one day, madam. Just to be permitted to shew them as relics, and then they may be locked up again. Mrs. H. 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 patience wherever they are. Miss N. I'll not believe it; it is but a shallow pretence to deny me. I know they're too valuable to be so slightly kept As you are to answer for the loss Mrs. H. Don't be alarm'd, 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. H. 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 N. Ay, people are generally calm at the misfortunes of others. Mrs. H. Now I wonder a girl of your good sense should waste a thought upon such trumpery. We shall soon find them; and, in the meantime, you shall make use of my garnets till your jewels be found. Miss N. I detest garnets! Mrs. H. The most becoming thiugs 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 N. Was ever anything so provoking, to mislay my own jewels, and force me to wear 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 N. My dear cousin! [Exit. Tony. Vanish! She's here; and has missed them already. Zounds! how she fidgets and spits about like a Catherine wheel! Enter Mrs. HARDCASTLE. Mrs. H. 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. H. We are robbed. My bureau has been broken open, the jewels taken out, and I'm undone. Tony. O! is that all? ha! ha! ha! By the laws, I never saw it better acted in my life. Ecod! I thought you was ruined in earnest, ha! ha! ha! Mrs. H. 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 call me to bear witness. Mrs. H. 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 am to say so. Mrs. H. My dearest Tony, but hear me. They're gone, I say, Tony. By the laws, mamma, you make me for to laugh, ha! ha! ha! I know who took them well enough, ha! ha! ha! Mrs. H. Was there ever such a blockhead, that I can't tell the difference between jest and carnest. 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 I'll bear witness that they are gone. us. Mrs. H. 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. H. 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 enjoy'd my distress? Tony. I can bear witness to that. Mrs. H. Do you insult me, monster? I'll teach you to vex your mother, I will. Tony. I can bear witness to that. [Exeunt. Enter Miss HARDCASTLE and Maid. Miss H. What an unaccountable creature is that brother of mine, to send them to the house as an inn: ha ha ha! I don't wonder at his impudence. Maid. But what is more, madam, the young gentleman, as you pass'd by in your present dress, ask'd me if you were the bar-maid. He mistook you for the bar-maid, madam. Miss H. Did he? Then, as I live, I'm resolv'd to keep up the delusion. Tell me, 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 H. And are you sure he don't remember my face or person? Maid. Certain of it. Miss H. 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 H. 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 is no small victory gained over one who never addresses any but the vilest 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 are you sure you can act your part, and disguise your voice, so that he may mistake that, as he has already mistaken your person? Miss H. 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 Mar. 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 curtsy down to the ground. I have at last got a moment to myself, and now for recollection. Miss H. Did you call, sir? Did your honour call? Mar. [Musing. As for Miss Hardcastle she's too grave and sentimental for me. Miss H. Did your honour call? Mar. No, child. [Musing.] Besides, from the glimpse I nad of her, I think she squints. my Miss H. I'm sure, sir, I heard the bell ring. Mar. No, no. [Musing.] I have pleased father, however, by coming down, and I'll to-morrow please myself by returning. [Taking out his tablets and perusing] Msss H. Perhaps the other gentleman, called, sir. Mar. I tell you no. Miss H. I should be glad to know, sir. We have such a parcel of servants. Mar. 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 H. O la, sir, you'll make one ashamed. Mar. Never saw a more sprightly, malicious eye. Yes, yes, my dear, I did call. Have you got any of your-a-what d'ye call it, in the house? Miss H. No, sir, we have been out of that these ten days. Mar. One may call in this house, I find, to very little purpose. Suppose I should call for a taste, just by the way of trial, of the nectar of your lips, perhaps I might be disappointed in that too. Miss H. Nectar! nectar! that's a liquor there's no call for in these parts. French, I suppose. keep no French wines her, sir. We We Mar. Of true English growth, I assure you. Miss H. Then it's odd I should not know it. brew all sorts of wines in this house, and I have lived here these eighteen years. Mar. Eighteen years! Why, one would child, you kept the bar before you were born. old are you? think, How They Miss H. O! sir! I must not tell my age. say women and music should never be dated. Mar. 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 H. Pray, sir, keep your distance. One would think you wanted to know one's age, as they do horses, by mark of mouth. Mar. 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 H. 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 obstropolous manner. I'll warrant me, before her you look dash'd, and kept bowing to the ground, and talk'd, for all the world, as if you was before a justice of the peace. Mar. Egad! she has hit it sure enough. [Aside. 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 H. O! then, sir, you are a favourite, I find, among the ladies? Mar. Yes, my dear, a great favourite. And yet hang me, I don't see what they see 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 H. Hold, sir! you were introducing me to your club, not to yourself. And you're so great a favourite there, you say? Mar. Yes, my dear. There's Mrs. Mantrap, Lady Betty Blackleg, the Countess of Sligo, Mrs. Longhorns, old Miss Biddy Buckshin, and your humble servant, keep up the spirit of the place. Miss H. Then it's a very merry place, I suppose? Mar. Yes; as merry as cards, supper, wine, and old women can make us. Miss H. And their agreeable Rattle! ha, ha, ha! Mar. Egad! I don't quite like this chit. She looks knowing, methinks. [Aside.] You laugh, child. Miss H. I can't but laugh to think what time they all have for minding their work or their family. Mar. All's well; she don't laugh at me. [Aside.] Do you ever work, child? Miss H. Ay, sure. There's not a screen or a quilt in the whole house but can bear witness to that. Mar. Odso! then you must shew me your embroidery. I embroider and draw patterns myself a little. If you want a judge of your work, you must apply to me. [Seizing her hand.] Miss H. Ay, but the colours don't look well by candle-light. You shall see all in the morning. Mar. And why not now, my angel? Such beauty fires beyond the power of resistance.-Psha! the father here! My old luck! I never nicked seven, that I did not throw ames the aces three times following. [Exis. Enter HARDCASTLE, who stands in surprise. Hard. So, madam! so, I find this is your modest lover; this is your humble admirer, that keeps his eyes fixed on the ground, and only adored at humble distance.-Kate, Kate, art thou not ashamed to deceive your father so? Miss H. Never trust me, my dear papa, but he's still the modest man I first took him for; you'll be convinced of it as well as I. Hard. By the hand of my body, I believe his impudence is infectious! Didn't I see him seize your hand? Did'nt I see him haul you about like a milk maid? and now you talk of his respect and his modesty, forsooth! Miss H. But if I shortly convince you of his modesty, that he has only the faults that will pass off with time, and the virtues that will improve with age, I hope you'll forgive him. Hard. The girl would actually make one run mad I tell you I'll not be convinced. I am convinced He has scarcely been three hours in the house, and' he has already encroached on all my prerogatives. You may like his impudence, and call it modesty; but my son-in-law, madam, must have very dif ferent qualifications. Miss H. Sir, I ask but this night to convince you. Hard You shall not have half the time; for I have thougths of turning him out this very hour. Miss H. Give me that hour, then, and I hope to satisfy you. Hard. Well, an hour let it be then. But I'll have no trifling with your father: all fair and open, do you mind me? [Exeunt. |