Let schoolmasters puzzle their brain, With grammar, and nonsense, and learning; Good liquor, I stoutly maintain, Gives genus a better discerning. Let them brag of their heathenish gods, Their Lethes, their Styxes, and Stygians; Their quis, and their quæs, and their quods They're all but a parcel of pigeons. Toroddle, toroddle, toroll. When Methodist preachers come down, They always preach best with a skin-full. But when you come down with your pence, For a slice of their scurvy religion, I'll leave it to all men of sense, But you, my good friend, are the pigeon. Toroddle, toroddle, toroll. 2 Fel. I loves to hear him sing, bekeays he never gives us nothing that's low. 3 Fel. Oh, nothing that's low, I cannot bear it. 4 Fel. The genteel thing is the genteel thing any time. If so be that a gentleman bees in a concatenation accordingly. 3 Fel. I like the masum of it, Master Muggins. What though I am obligated to dance a bear? a man may be a gentleman for all that. May this be my poison, if my bear ever dances but to the very genteelest of tunes; "Water parted," or "The minuet in Ariadne." 2 Fel. What a pity it is the 'squire is not come to his own! It would be well for all the publicans within ten miles round of him. Tony. Ecod, and so it would, Master Slang. I'd then show what it was to keep choice of company. 2 Fel. Oh, he takes after his own father for that. To be sure, old 'squire Lumpkin was the finest gentleman I ever set my eyes on. For winding the straight horn, or beating a thicket for a hare, he never had his fellow. It was a saying in the place, that he kept the best horses and dogs in the whole county. Tony. Ecod, and when I'm of age I'll be my father's son, I promise you! I have been thinking of Bet Bouncer, and the miller's grey mare to begin with. But come, my boys, drink about and be merry, for you pay no reckoning. Well, Stingo, what's the matter? Enter LANDLORD. Land. There be two gentlemen in a post-chaise at the door. They have lost their way upo' the forest; and they are talking something about Mr. Hardcastle. Tony. As sure as can be, one of them must be the gentleman that's coming down to court my sister. Do they seem to be Londoners? Land. I believe they may. They look woundily like Frenchmen. Then desire them Tony. to step this way, and I'll set them right in a twinkling. (Exit LANDLORD.) Gentlemen, as they mayn't be good enough company for you, step down for a moment, 1 Fel. The 'squire has got spunk in and I'll be with you in the squeezing of a him. lemon. (Exeunt mob.) TONY, solus. Tony. Father-in-law has been calling me whelp, and hound, this half year. Now if I pleased, I could be so revenged upon the old grumbletonian. But then I'm afraid-afraid of what? I shall soon be worth fifteen hundred a year, and let him frighten me out of that if he can. a pretty, well-bred, agreeable youth, that everybody is fond of. Marl. Our information differs in this. The daughter is said to be well-bred and beautiful; the son an awkward booby, reared up, and spoiled at his mother's apron-strings. Tony. He-he-hem! Then, gentlemen, all I have to tell you is, that you won't reach Mr. Hardcastle's house this night, Enter LANDLORD conducting MARLOW I believe. and HASTINGS. Marl. What a tedious, uncomfortable day have we had of it? We were told it was but forty miles across the country, and we have come above three-score. Hast. And all, Marlow, from that unaccountable reserve of yours, that would not let us inquire more frequently on the way. Marl. I own, Hastings, I am unwilling to lay myself under an obligation to every one I meet: and often stand the chance of an unmannerly answer. Hast. At present, however, we are not likely to receive any answer. Tony. No offence, gentlemen; but I'm told you have been inquiring for one Mr. Hardcastle, in those parts. Do you know what part of the country you are in? Hast. Not in the least, sir; but should thank you for information. Tony. Nor the way you came? Hast. No, sir; but if you can inform Marl. That's not necessary towards directing us where we are to go. Tony. No offence; but question for question is all fair, you know. Pray, genlemen, is not this same Hardcastle a cross-grained, old-fashioned, whimsical fellow with an ugly face; a daughter, and a pretty son? Hast. We have not seen the gentleman; but he has the family you mention. Tony. The daughter, a tall trapesing, trolloping, talkative May-pole. The son, Hast. Unfortunate! Tony. It's a long, dark, boggy, dirty, dangerous way. Stingo, tell the gentlemen the way to Mr. Hardcastle's (winking upon the landlord); Mr. Hardcastle's of Quagmire Marsh; you understand me. Land. Master Hardcastle's? Lack-adaisy, my masters, you're come a deadly deal wrong! When you came to the bottom of the hill, you should have crossed down Squash Lane. Marl. Cross down Squash Lane? Land. Then you were to keep straight forward, till you came to four roads. Marl. Come to where four roads meet! Tony. Ay; but you must be sure to take only one of them. Marl. Oh, sir, you're facetious. Tony. Then keeping to the right, you are to go sideways till you come upon Crack-skull Common: there you must look sharp for the track of the wheel, and go forward, till you come to farmer Murrain's barn. Coming to the farmer's barn, you are to turn to the right, and then to the left, and then to the right-about again, till you find out the old mill Marl. Zounds, man! we could as soon find out the longitude! Hast. What's to be done, Marlow? Marl. This house promises but a poor reception; though perhaps the landlord can accommodate us. Land. Alack! master, we have but one spare bed in the whole house. Tony. And, to my knowledge, that's taken up by three lodgers already (After a pause, in which the rest seem disconcerted.) I have hit it. Don't you think, Stingo, our landlady would accommodate the gentlemen by the fire-side, with-three chairs and a bolster? Hast. I hate sleeping by the fire-side. Marl. And I detest your three chairs and a bolster. Tony. You do, do you? Then let me see-what if you go on a mile further, to the Buck's Head; the old Buck's Head on | taken from the barn, are to make a show the hill, one of the best inns in the whole county? Hast. Oh, ho! so we have escaped an adventure for this night, however. Land. (Apart to Tony.) Sure you ben't sending them to your father's as an inn, be you? Tony. Mum, you fool you! Let them find that out. (To them.) - You have only to keep on straight forward, till you come to a large old house by the roadside. You'll see a pair of large horns over the door. That's the sign. gn. Drive up the yard, and call stoutly about you. Hast. Sir, we are obliged to you. The servants can't miss the way. Tony. No, no. But I tell you, though, the landlord is rich and going to leave off business; so he wants to be thought a gentleman, saving your presence, he! he! he! He'll be for giving you his company, and ecod, if you mind him, he'll persuade you that his mother was an alderman, and • his aunt a justice of peace. Land. A troublesome old blade, to be sure; but a keeps as good wines and beds as any in the whole country. Marl. Well, if he supplies us with these, we shall want no further connection. We are to turn to the right, did you say? Tony. No, no; straight forward. I'll just step myself, and show you a piece of the way. (To the landlord). Mum. Land. Ah, you are a sweet, pleasant mischievous humbug. (Exeunt.) ACT II. SCENE I.-An old-fashioned house. at the side-table; and you, Roger, whom I have advanced from the plough, are to place yourself behind my chair. But you're not to stand so, with your hands in your pockets. Take your hands from your pockets, Roger; and from your head, you blockhead you. See how Diggory carries his hands. They're a little too stiff, indeed, but that's no great matter. Digg. Ay; mind how I hold them. I learned to hold my hands this way, when I was upon drill for the militia. And so being upon drill Hard. You must not be so talkative, Diggory. You must be all attention to the guests. You must hear us talk, and not think of talking; you must see us drink, and not think of drinking; you must see us eat, and not think of eating. Digg. By the laws, your worship, that's parfectly unpossible. Whenever Diggory sees yeating going forward, ecod, he's always wishing for a mouthful himself. Hard. Blockhead! is not a belly-full in the kitchen as good as a belly-full in the parlour? Stay your stomach with that reflection. Digg. Ecod, I thank your worship, I'll make a shift to stay my stomach with a slice of cold beef in the pantry. Hard. Diggory, you are too talkative. Then if I happen to say a good thing, or tell a good story at table, y you must not all burst out a-laughing, as if you made part of the company. Digg. Then, ecod, your worship must not tell the story of Ould Grouse in the gun-room: I can't help laughing at that -he! he! he!-for the soul of me. We have laughed at that these twenty years -ha! ha! ha! Enter HARDCASTLE, followed by three or good one. Well, honest Diggory, you Hard. Ha! ha! ha! The story is a may laugh at that-but still remember to be attentive. Suppose one of the company should call for a glass of wine, how will you behave? A glass of wine, sir, if you please. (To DIGGORY) - Eh, why don't you move? Digg. Ecod, your worship, I never have courage till I see the eatables and drinkables brought upon the table, and then I'm as bauld as a lion. Hard. What, will nobody move? 1 Serv. 2 Serv. 3 Serv. I'm not to leave this place. I'm sure it's no place of mine. Nor mine, for sartain. Digg. Wauns, and I'm sure, it canna | miliarly acquainted with a single modest be mine. woman-except my mother. Hard. You numsculls! and so while, Hast. In the company of women of like your betters, you are quarrelling for Digg. By the elevens, my pleace is gone quite out of my head. Roger. I know that my pleace is to be everywhere. 1 Serv. Where is mine? 2 Serv. My pleace is to be nowhere at all; and so I'ze go about my business. (Exeunt Servants, running about as frightened, different ways.) if reputation, I never saw such an idiot, such a trembler: you look, for all the world, as if you wanted an opportunity of stealing out of the room. Marl. Why, man, that's because I do want to steal out of the room! I have often formed a resolution to break the ice, and rattle away at any rate But I don't know how, a single glance from a pair of fine eyes has totally overset my resolution. An impudent fellow may counterfeit modesty; but I'll be hanged if a modest man can ever counterfeit impudence. Hast. If you could say but half the fine things to them that I have heard you lavish upon the barmaid of an inn. Marl. Why, George, I can't say fine things to them. They freeze, they petrify Enter Servant with candles, showing in me. They may talk of a comet, or a MARLOW and HASTINGS. Serv. Welcome, gentlemen, very wel- come. Hast. After the disappointments of the day, welcome once more, Charles, to the comforts of a clean room, and a good fire. Upon my word, a very well-looking house; antique, but creditable. Marl. The usual fate of a large mansion. Having first ruined the master by good housekeeping, it at last comes to levy contributions as an inn. Hast. As you say, we passengers are to be taxed to pay all these fineries. I have often seen a good side-board, or a marble chimney-piece, though not actually put in the bill, inflame a reckoning confoundedly. Marl. Travellers, George, must pay in all places. The only difference is, that in good inns you pay dearly for luxuries; in bad inns you are fleeced and starved. Hast. You have lived very much among them. In truth, I have been often surprised, that you, who have seen so much of the world, with your natural good sense, and your many opportunities, could never yet acquire a requisite share of assurance. burning mountain, or some such bagatelle: but to me, a modest woman, drest out in all her finery, is the most tremen-. dous object of the whole creation. Hast. Ha! ha! ha! At this rate, man, how can you ever expect to marry? Marl. Never, unless, as among kings and princes, my bride were to be courted by proxy. If, indeed, like an Eastern bridegroom, one were to be introduced to a wife he never saw before, it might be endured. But to go through all the terrors of a formal courtship, together with the episode of aunts, grandmothers and cousins, and at last to blurt out the broadstar question of-Madam, will you marry me? No, no; that's a strain much above me, I assure you. Hast. I pity you. But how do you intend behaving to the lady you are come down to visit at the request of your father? Marl. As I behave to all other ladies: bow very low; answer yes, or no, to all her demands. But for the rest, I don't think I shall venture to look in her face, till I see my father's again. Hast. I am surprised that one who is so warm a friend can be so cool a lover. Marl. To be explicit, my dear Hastings, my chief inducement down, was to be instrumental in forwarding your happiness, not my own. Miss Neville loves you; the family don't know you: as my friend you are sure of a reception, and let Marl. The Englishman's malady. But tell me, George, where could I have learned that assurance you talk of? My life has been chiefly spent in a college, or an inn; in seclusion from that lovely part of the creation that chiefly teach men confidence. I don't know that I was ever fa-honour do the rest. Hast. My dear Marlow!-But I'll sup- | which might consist of about five thou press the emotion. Were I a wretch, meanly seeking to carry off a fortune, you should be the last man in the world I would apply to for assistance. But Miss Neville's person is all I ask; and that is mine, both from her deceased father's consent, and her own inclination. Marl. Happy man! You have talents and art to captivate any woman. I am doomed to adore the sex, and yet to converse with the only part of it I despise. This stammer in my address, and this awkward prepossessing visage of mine, can never permit me to soar- - Pshaw! this fellow here to interrupt us. Enter HARDCASTLE. Hard. Gentlemen, once more you are heartily welcome. Which is Mr. Marlow? Sir, you're heartily welcome. It's not my way, you see, to receive my friends with my back to the fire. I like to give them a hearty reception, in the old style, at my gate. I like to see their horses and trunks taken care of. Marl. (Aside.) He has got our names from the servants already. (To him). We approve your caution and hospitality, sir. (To HASTINGS)-I have been thinking, George, of changing our travelling dresses in the morning. I am grown confoundedly ashamed of mine. Hard. I beg, Mr. Marlow, you'll use no ceremony in this house. Hast. I fancy, Charles, you're right: the first blow is half the battle. I intend opening the campaign with the white and gold. Hard. Mr. Marlow-Mr. Hastingsgentlemen-pray be under no restraint in this house. This is Liberty Hall, gentlemen. You may do just as you please here. Marl. Yet, George, if we open the campaign too fiercely at first, we may want ammunition before it is over. I think to reserve the embroidery to secure a retreat. Hard. Your talking of a retreat, Mr. Marlow, puts me in mind of the Duke of Marlborough, when he went to besiege Denain. He first summoned the garrison sand men Hast. I think not: brown and yellow mix but very poorly. Hard. I say, gentlemen, as I was telling you, he summoned the garrison, which might consist of about five thou sand men Marl. The girls like finery. Hard. Which might consist of about five thousand men, well appointed with stores, ammunition, and other implements of war. Now, says the duke of Marlborough to George Brooks that stood next to him-you must have heard of George Brooks-"I'll pawn my dukedom," says he, "but I'll take that garrison, without spilling a drop of blood." So Marl. What, my good friend, if you give us a glass of punch in the meantime? It would help us to carry on the siege with vigour. Hard. Punch, sir! (Aside) -This is the most unaccountable kind of modesty I ever met with. Marl. Yes, sir, punch. A glass of warm punch, after our journey, will be comfortable. This is Liberty Hall, you know. Hard. Here's a cup, sir. Marl. (Aside.) So this fellow, in his Liberty Hall, will only let us have just what he pleases. Hard. (Taking the cup.) I hope you'll find it to your mind. I have prepared it with my own hands, and I believe you'll own the ingredients are tolerable. Will you be so good as to pledge me, sir? Here, Mr. Marlow, here is to our better acquaintance. (Drinks.) Marl. (Aside.) A very impudent fellow this! but he's a character, and I'll humor him a little. (To him.) Sir, my service to you. (Drinks.) Hast. (Aside.) I see that this fellow wants to give us his company, and forgets that he's an innkeeper before he has learned to be a gentleman. Marl. From the excellence of your cup, my old friend, I suppose you have a good deal of business in this part of the country. Warm work, now and then, at elections, I suppose. Hard. No, sir, I have long given that work over. Since our betters have hit Marl. Don't you think the ventre d'or upon the expedient of electing each waistcoat will do with the plain brown? other, there's no business for us that sell Hard. He first summoned the garrison, ale. |