Act IV

Scene. The house.

Enter Hastings and Miss Neville.
Hastings You surprise me! Sir Charles Marlow expected here this night! Where have you had your information?
Miss Neville You may depend upon it. I just saw his letter to Mr. Hardcastle, in which he tells him he intends setting out a few hours after his son.
Hastings Then, my Constance, all must be completed before he arrives. He knows me; and should he find me here, would discover my name, and perhaps my designs, to the rest of the family.
Miss Neville The jewels, I hope, are safe?
Hastings Yes, yes, I have sent them to Marlow, who keeps the keys of our baggage. In the meantime, I’ll go to prepare matters for our elopement. I have had the Squire’s promise of a fresh pair of horses; and if I should not see him again, will write him further directions.
Exit.
Miss Neville Well! success attend you. In the meantime I’ll go and amuse my aunt with the old pretence of a violent passion for my cousin.
Exit.
Enter Marlow, followed by a Servant.
Marlow I wonder what Hastings could mean by sending me so valuable a thing as a casket to keep for him, when he knows the only place I have is the seat of a post coach at an inn door. Have you deposited the casket with the landlady, as I ordered you? Have you put it into her own hands?
Servant Yes, your honour.
Marlow She said she’d keep it safe, did she?
Servant Yes, she said she’d keep it safe enough; she asked me how I came by it; and she said she had a great mind to make me give an account of myself.
Exit Servant.
Marlow Ha! ha! ha! They’re safe, however. What an unaccountable set of beings have we got amongst! This little barmaid though runs in my head most strangely, and drives out the absurdities of all the rest of the family. She’s mine, she must be mine, or I’m greatly mistaken.
Enter Hastings.
Hastings Bless me! I quite forgot to tell her that I intended to prepare at the bottom of the garden. Marlow here, and in spirits too!
Marlow Give me joy, George! Crown me, shadow me with laurels! Well, George, after all, we modest fellows don’t want for success among the women.
Hastings Some women, you mean. But what success has your honour’s modesty been crowned with now, that it grows so insolent upon us?
Marlow Didn’t you see the tempting, brisk, lovely little thing, that runs about the house with a bunch of keys to its girdle?
Hastings Well, and what then?
Marlow She’s mine, you rogue, you. Such fire, such motion, such eyes, such lips⁠—but, egad! she would not let me kiss them though.
Hastings But are you so sure, so very sure of her?
Marlow Why, man, she talked of showing me her work above stairs, and I am to improve the pattern.
Hastings But how can you, Charles, go about to rob a woman of her honour?
Marlow Pshaw! pshaw! We all know the honour of the barmaid of an inn. I don’t intend to rob her, take my word for it; there’s nothing in this house I shan’t honestly pay for.
Hastings I believe the girl has virtue.
Marlow And if she has, I should be the last man in the world that would attempt to corrupt it.
Hastings You have taken care, I hope, of the casket I sent you to lock up? Is it in safety?
Marlow Yes, yes. It’s safe enough. I have taken care of it. But how could you think the seat of a post coach at an inn door a place of safety? Ah! numskull! I have taken better precautions for you than you did for yourself⁠—I have⁠—
Hastings What?
Marlow I have sent it to the landlady to keep for you.
Hastings To the landlady!
Marlow The landlady.
Hastings You did?
Marlow I did. She’s to be answerable for its forthcoming, you know.
Hastings Yes, she’ll bring it forth with a witness.
Marlow Wasn’t I right? I believe you’ll allow that I acted prudently upon this occasion.
Hastings Aside. He must not see my uneasiness.
Marlow You seem a little disconcerted though, methinks. Sure nothing has happened?
Hastings No, nothing. Never was in better spirits in all my life. And so you left it with the landlady, who, no doubt, very readily undertook the charge.
Marlow Rather too readily. For she not only kept the casket, but, through her great precaution, was going to keep the messenger too. Ha! ha! ha!
Hastings He! he! he! They’re safe, however.
Marlow As a guinea in a miser’s purse.
Hastings Aside. So now all hopes of fortune are at an end, and we must set off without it. To him. Well, Charles, I’ll leave you to your meditations on the pretty barmaid, and, he! he! he! may you be as successful for yourself as you have been for me!
Exit.
Marlow Thank ye, George: I ask no more. Ha! ha! ha!
Enter Hardcastle.
Hardcastle I no longer know my own house. It’s turned all topsy-turvy. His servants have got drunk already. I’ll bear it no longer; and yet, from my respect for his father, I’ll be calm. To him. Mr. Marlow, your servant. I’m your very humble servant. Bowing low.
Marlow Sir, your humble servant. Aside. What’s to be the wonder now?
Hardcastle I believe, sir, you must be sensible, sir, that no man alive ought to be more welcome than your father’s son, sir. I hope you think so?
Marlow I do from my soul, sir. I don’t want much entreaty. I generally make my father’s son welcome wherever he goes.
Hardcastle I believe you do, from my soul, sir. But though I say nothing to your own conduct, that of your servants is insufferable. Their manner of drinking is setting a very bad example in this house, I assure you.
Marlow I protest, my very good sir, that is no fault of mine. If they don’t drink as they ought, they are to blame. I ordered them not to spare the cellar; I did, I assure you. To the side scene. Here, let one of my servants come up. To him. My positive directions were, that as I did not drink myself, they should make up for my deficiencies below.
Hardcastle Then they had your orders for what they do? I’m satisfied!
Marlow They had, I assure you. You shall hear from one of themselves.
Enter Servant, drunk.
Marlow You, Jeremy! Come forward, sirrah! What were my orders? Were you not told to drink freely, and call for what you thought fit, for the good of the house?
Hardcastle Aside. I begin to lose my patience.
Jeremy Please your honour, liberty and Fleet Street forever! Though I’m but a servant, I’m as good as another man. I’ll drink for no man before supper, sir, damme! Good liquor will sit upon a good supper, but a good supper will not sit upon⁠—hiccup⁠—upon my conscience, sir.
Marlow You see, my old friend, the fellow is as drunk as he can possibly be. I don’t know what you’d have more, unless you’d have the poor devil soused in a beer barrel.
Hardcastle Zounds! he’ll drive me distracted, if I contain myself any longer. Mr. Marlow, Sir; I have submitted to your insolence for more than four hours, and I see no likelihood of its coming to an end. I’m now resolved to be master here, sir, and I desire that you and your drunken pack may leave my house directly.
Marlow Leave your house!⁠—Sure you jest, my good friend? What? when I’m doing what I can to please you.
Hardcastle I tell you, sir, you don’t please me; so I desire you’ll leave my house.
Marlow Sure you cannot be serious? At this time of night, and such a night? You only mean to banter me.
Hardcastle I tell you, sir, I’m serious! and now that my passions are roused, I say this house is mine, sir; this house is mine, and I command you to leave it directly.
Marlow Ha! ha! ha! A puddle in a storm. I shan’t stir a step, I assure you. In a serious tone. This your house, fellow! It’s my house. This is my house. Mine, while I choose to stay. What right have you to bid me leave this house, sir? I never met with such impudence, curse me; never in my whole life before.
Hardcastle Nor I, confound me if ever I did! To come to my house, to call for what he likes, to turn me out of my own chair, to insult the family, to order his servants to get drunk, and then to tell me, “This house is mine, sir.” By all that’s impudent, it makes me laugh. Ha! ha! ha! Pray, sir, Bantering. as you take the house, what think you of taking the rest of the furniture? There’s a pair of silver candlesticks, and there’s a fire screen, and here’s a pair of brazen-nosed bellows; perhaps you may take a fancy to them?
Marlow Bring me your bill, sir; bring me your bill, and let’s make no more words about it.
Hardcastle There are a set of prints, too. What think you of the Rake’s Progress, for your own apartment?
Marlow Bring me your bill, I say; and I’ll leave you and your infernal house directly.
Hardcastle Then there’s a mahogany table that you may see your own face in.
Marlow My bill, I say.
Hardcastle I had forgot the great chair for your own particular slumbers, after a hearty meal.
Marlow Zounds! bring me my bill, I say, and let’s hear no more on’t.
Hardcastle Young man, young man, from your father’s letter to me, I was taught to expect a well-bred, modest man as a visitor here, but now I find him no better than a coxcomb and a bully; but he will be down here presently, and shall hear more of it.
Exit.
Marlow How’s this? Sure I have not mistaken the house. Everything looks like an inn. The servants cry, coming; the attendance is awkward; the barmaid, too, to attend us. But she’s here, and will further inform me. Whither so fast, child? A word with you.
Enter Miss Hardcastle.
Miss Hardcastle Let it be short, then. I’m in a hurry. Aside. I believe he begins to find out his mistake. But it’s too soon quite to undeceive him.
Marlow Pray, child, answer me one question. What are you, and what may your business in this house be?
Miss Hardcastle A relation of the family, sir.
Marlow What, a poor relation.
Miss Hardcastle Yes, sir. A poor relation, appointed to keep the keys, and to see that the guests want nothing in my power to give them.
Marlow That is, you act as the barmaid of this inn.
Miss Hardcastle Inn! O law⁠—what brought that in your head? One of the best families in the country keep an inn⁠—Ha! ha! ha! old Mr. Hardcastle’s house an inn!
Marlow Mr. Hardcastle’s house! Is this Mr. Hardcastle’s house, child?
Miss Hardcastle Ay, sure! Whose else should it be?
Marlow So, then, all’s out, and I have been damnably imposed on. Oh, confound my stupid head, I shall be laughed at over the whole town! I shall be stuck up in caricatura in all the print-shops. The Dullissimo Maccaroni. To mistake this house of all others for an inn, and my father’s old friend for an innkeeper! What a swaggering puppy must he take me for! What a silly puppy do I find myself! There, again, may I be hanged, my dear, but I mistook you for the barmaid.
Miss Hardcastle Dear me! dear me! I’m sure there’s nothing in my behaviour to put me on a level with one of that stamp.
Marlow Nothing, my dear, nothing. But I was in for a list of blunders, and could not help making you a subscriber. My stupidity saw everything the wrong way. I mistook your assiduity for assurance, and your simplicity for allurement. But it’s over⁠—this house I no more show my face in.
Miss Hardcastle I hope, sir, I have done nothing to disoblige you. I’m sure I should be sorry to affront any gentleman who has been so polite, and said so many civil things to me. I’m sure I should be sorry Pretending to cry. if he left the family upon my account. I’m sure I should be sorry if people said anything amiss, since I have no fortune but my character.
Marlow Aside. By Heaven! she weeps. This is the first mark of tenderness I ever had from a modest woman, and it touches me. To her. Excuse me, my lovely girl; you are the only part of the family I leave with reluctance. But to be plain with you, the difference of our birth, fortune, and education, makes an honourable connection impossible; and I can never harbour a thought of seducing simplicity that trusted in my honour, of bringing ruin upon one whose only fault was being too lovely.
Miss Hardcastle Aside. Generous man! I now begin to admire him. To him. But I am sure my family is as good as Miss Hardcastle’s; and though I’m poor, that’s no great misfortune to a contented mind; and, until this moment, I never thought that it was bad to want fortune.
Marlow And why now, my pretty simplicity?
Miss Hardcastle Because it puts me at a distance from one that, if I had a thousand pounds, I would give it all to.
Marlow Aside. This simplicity bewitches me so, that if I stay I’m undone. I must make one bold effort, and leave her. To her. Your partiality in my favour, my dear, touches me most sensibly; and 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; so that⁠—I can scarcely speak it⁠—it affects me! Farewell.
Exit.
Miss Hardcastle I never knew half his merit till now. He shall not go if I have power or art to detain him. I’ll still preserve the character in which I stooped to conquer; but will undeceive my papa, who, perhaps may laugh him out of his resolution.
Exit.
Enter Tony and Miss Neville.
Tony Ay, you may steal for yourselves the next time. I have done my duty. She has got the jewels again, that’s a sure thing; but she believes it was all a mistake of the servants.
Miss Neville But, my dear cousin, sure you won’t forsake us in this distress? If she in the least suspects that I am going off, I shall certainly be locked up, or sent to my aunt Pedigree’s, which is ten times worse.
Tony To be sure, aunts of all kinds are damned bad things. But what can I do? I have got you a pair of horses that will fly like Whistle Jacket; and I’m sure you can’t say but I have courted you nicely before her face. Here she comes; we must court a bit or two more, for fear she should suspect us. They retire, and seem to fondle.
Enter Mrs. Hardcastle.
Mrs. Hardcastle Well, I was greatly fluttered, to be sure. But my son tells me it was all a mistake of the servants. I shan’t be easy, however, till they are fairly married, and then let her keep her own fortune. But what do I see? Fondling together, as I’m alive. I never saw Tony so sprightly before. Ah! have I caught you, my pretty doves? What, billing, exchanging stolen glances and broken murmurs? Ah!
Tony As for murmurs, mother, we grumble a little now and then, to be sure. But there’s no love lost between us.
Mrs. Hardcastle A mere sprinkling, Tony, upon the flame, only to make it burn brighter.
Miss Neville Cousin Tony promises to give us more of his company at home. Indeed, he shan’t leave us any more. It won’t leave us, cousin Tony, will it?
Tony O! it’s a pretty creature. No, I’d sooner leave my horse in a pound, than leave you when you smile upon one so. Your laugh makes you so becoming.
Miss Neville Agreeable cousin! Who can help admiring that natural humour, that pleasant, broad, red, thoughtless Patting his cheek.⁠—ah! it’s a bold face.
Mrs. Hardcastle Pretty innocence!
Tony I’m sure I always loved cousin Con’s hazel eyes, and her pretty long fingers, that she twists this way and that over the haspicholls, like a parcel of bobbins.
Mrs. Hardcastle Ah! he would charm the bird from the tree. I was never so happy before. My boy takes after his father, poor Mr. Lumpkin, exactly. The jewels, my dear Con, shall be yours incontinently. You shall have them. Isn’t he a sweet boy, my dear? You shall be married tomorrow, and we’ll put off the rest of his education, like Dr. Drowsy’s sermons, 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. She reads all my letters first.
Diggory I had orders to deliver it into your own hands.
Tony Who does it come from?
Diggory Your worship mun ask that o’ the letter itself.
Exit Diggory.
Tony I could wish to know, though. Turning the letter, and gazing on it.
Miss Neville Aside. Undone, undone! A letter to him from Hastings. I know the hand. If my aunt sees it, we are ruined forever. I’ll keep her employed a little if I can. To Mrs. Hardcastle. But I have not told you, madam, of my cousin’s smart answer just now to Mr. Marlow. We so laughed⁠—you must know, madam⁠—this way a little, for he must not hear us. They confer.
Tony Still gazing. A damned cramp piece of penmanship, as ever I saw in my life. I can read your print hand very well. But here are such handles, and shanks, and dashes, that one can scarce tell the head from the tail.⁠—“To Anthony Lumpkin, Esquire.” It’s very odd, I can read the outside 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 correspondence.
Mrs. Hardcastle Ha! ha! ha! Very well, very well. And so my son was too hard for the philosopher.
Miss 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 damned up-and-down hand, as if it was disguised 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 assistance?
Miss Neville Pray, aunt, let me read it. Nobody reads a cramp hand better than I. Twitching the letter from him. Do you know who it is from?
Tony Can’t tell, except from Dick Ginger, the feeder.
Miss Neville Ay, so it is. Pretending to read. Dear Squire, hoping that you’re in health, as I am at this present. The gentlemen of the Shake-bag club has cut the gentlemen of Goose-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 consequence; here, put it up, put it up. Thrusting the crumpled letter upon him.
Tony But I tell you, miss, it’s of all the consequence in the world! I would not lose the rest of it for a guinea. Here, mother, do you make it out. Of no consequence! Giving Mrs. Hardcastle the letter.
Mrs. Hardcastle How’s this?⁠—Reads.Dear Squire, I’m now waiting for Miss Neville with a post chaise and pair, at the bottom of the garden, but I find my horses yet unable to perform the journey. I expect you’ll assist us with a pair of fresh horses, as you promised. Dispatch is necessary, as the hag (ay, the hag), your mother, will otherwise suspect us. Yours, Hastings.” Grant me patience. I shall run distracted! My rage chokes me.
Miss Neville I hope, madam, you’ll suspend your resentment for a few moments, and not impute to me any impertinence, or sinister design, that belongs to another.
Mrs. Hardcastle Curtseying very low. Fine spoken, madam; you are most miraculously polite and engaging, and quite the very pink of courtesy and circumspection, madam. Changing her tone. And you, you great ill-fashioned oaf, with scarce sense enough to keep your mouth shut⁠—were you, too, joined against me? But I’ll defeat all your plots in a moment. As for you, madam, since you have got a pair of fresh horses ready, it would be cruel to disappoint them. So, if you please, instead of running away with your spark, prepare, this very moment, to run off with me. Your old aunt Pedigree will keep you secure, I’ll warrant me. You too, sir, may mount your horse, and guard us upon the way. Here, Thomas, Roger, Diggory! I’ll show you that I wish you better than you do yourselves.
Exit.
Miss Neville So now I’m completely ruined.
Tony Ay, that’s a sure thing.
Miss Neville What better could be expected from being connected with such a stupid fool⁠—and after all the nods and signs I made him?
Tony By the laws, miss, it was your own cleverness, and not my stupidity, that did your business. You were so nice and so busy with your Shake-bags and Goose-greens, that I thought you could never be making believe.
Enter Hastings.
Hastings So, sir, I find by my servant, that you have shown my letter, and betrayed us. Was this well done, young gentleman?
Tony Here’s another. Ask miss there, who betrayed you. Ecod, it was her doing, not mine.
Enter Marlow.
Marlow So I have been finely used here among you. Rendered contemptible, driven into ill manners, despised, insulted, laughed at.
Tony Here’s another. We shall have old Bedlam broke loose presently.
Miss Neville And there, sir, is the gentleman to whom we all owe every obligation.
Marlow What can I say to him, a mere boy, an idiot, whose ignorance and age are a protection?
Hastings A poor contemptible booby, that would but disgrace correction.
Miss Neville Yet with cunning and malice enough to make himself merry with all our embarrassments.
Hastings An insensible cub.
Marlow Replete with tricks and mischief.
Tony Baw! damme, but I’ll fight you both, one after the other⁠—with baskets.
Marlow As for him, he’s below resentment. But your conduct, Mr. Hastings, requires an explanation. You knew of my mistakes, yet would not undeceive me.
Hastings Tortured as I am with my own disappointments, is this a time for explanations? It is not friendly, Mr. Marlow.
Marlow But, sir⁠—
Miss Neville Mr. Marlow, we never kept on your mistake till it was too late to undeceive you.
Enter Servant.
Servant My mistress desires you’ll get ready immediately, madam. The horses are putting to. Your hat and things are in the next room. We are to go thirty miles before morning.
Exit Servant.
Miss Neville Well, well: I’ll come presently.
Marlow To Hastings. Was it well done, sir, to assist in rendering me ridiculous? To hang me out for the scorn of all my acquaintance? Depend upon it, sir, I shall expect an explanation.
Hastings Was it well done, sir, if you’re upon that subject, to deliver what I entrusted to yourself, to the care of another sir?
Miss Neville Mr. Hastings! Mr. Marlow! Why will you increase my distress by this groundless dispute? I implore, I entreat you⁠—
Enter Servant.
Servant Your cloak, madam. My mistress is impatient.
Miss Neville I come.
Exit Servant.
Pray, be pacified. If I leave you thus, I shall die with apprehension.
Enter Servant.
Servant Your fan, muff, and gloves, madam. The horses are waiting.
Exit Servant.
Miss Neville Oh, Mr. Marlow! if you knew what a scene of constraint and ill-nature lies before me, I’m sure it would convert your resentment into pity.
Marlow I’m so distracted with a variety of passions, that I don’t know what I do. Forgive me, madam. George, forgive me. You know my hasty temper, and should not exasperate it.
Hastings The torture of my situation is my only excuse.
Miss Neville Well, my dear Hastings, if you have that esteem for me that I think, that I am sure you have, your constancy for three years will but increase the happiness of our future connection. If⁠—
Mrs. Hardcastle Within. Miss Neville! Constance! why, Constance, I say!
Miss Neville I’m coming! Well, constancy. Remember, constancy is the word.
Exit.
Hastings My heart! how can I support this? To be so near happiness, and such happiness!
Marlow To Tony. You see now, young gentleman, the effects of your folly. What might be amusement to you, is here disappointment, and even distress.
Tony From a reverie. Ecod, I have hit it. It’s here! Your hands. Yours, and yours, my poor Sulky!⁠—My boots there, ho!⁠—Meet me, two hours hence, at the bottom of the garden; and if you don’t find Tony Lumpkin a more good-natured fellow than you thought for, I’ll give you leave to take my best horse, and Bet Bouncer into the bargain! Come along. My boots, ho!
Exeunt.