From the
excellence
of your cup my old friend, I suppose you have
a good deal of business in this part of the country.
a good deal of business in this part of the country.
Oliver Goldsmith
Ha!
ha!
ha!
The story is a good one.
Well, honest Diggory, you
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.
[Illustration:
HARDCASTLE. —"_You must not be
so talkative, Diggory. _"—_p. _ 333.
]
HARD. What, will nobody move?
1. SERV. I'm not to leave this place.
2. SERV. I'm sure it's no place of mine.
3. SERV. Nor mine, for sartain.
DIGG. Wauns, and I'm sure it canna be mine.
HARD. You numskulls! and so while, like your betters, you are
quarrelling for places, the guests must be starved. O you dunces! I
find I must begin all over again. —But don't I hear a coach drive into
the yard? To your posts, you blockheads. I'll go in the mean time and
give my old friend's son a hearty welcome at the gate.
_Exit_ HARDCASTLE.
DIGG. By the elevens, my place is gone quite out of my head.
ROGER. I know that my place is to be everywhere.
1. SERV. Where the devil is mine?
2. SERV. My place is to be no where at all; and so Ize go about my
business.
_Exeunt_ SERVANTS, _running about as if frighted, different ways_.
_Enter_ SERVANT _with candles, showing in_ MARLOW _and_ HASTINGS.
SERV. Welcome, gentlemen, very welcome. This way.
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 sideboard, or a marble
chimney-piece, though not actually put in the bill, inflame the bill
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 pretty 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.
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
familiarly acquainted with a single modest woman—except my mother—But
among females of another class, you know—
HAST. Aye, among them you are impudent enough of all conscience.
MARL. They are of _us_, you know.
HAST. But in the company of women of 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.
Faith, 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 but say half the fine things to them that I have
heard you lavish upon the bar-maid of an inn, or even a college
bed-maker—
MARL. Why, George, I can't say fine things to them. They freeze, they
petrify me. They may talk of a comet, or a burning mountain, or some
such bagatelle: but to me, a modest woman, dressed out in all her
finery, is the most tremendous 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 broad-star 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' 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 a
sure of a reception, and let honour do the rest.
HAST. My dear Marlow! —But I'll suppress 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 above the reach of a
milliner's prentice, or one of the duchesses of Drury-lane. —Pshaw! this
fellow here to interrupt us.
_Enter_ HARDCASTLE.
HARD. Gentlemen, once more you are heartily welcome. Which is Mr.
Marlow? Sir, you are 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. Hastings—gentlemen—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.
MARL. Don't you think the _ventre_ _d'or_ waistcoat will do with the
plain brown?
HARD. He first summoned the garrison, which might consist of about five
thousand 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 thousand 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
take that garrison without spilling a drop of blood. " So——
MARL. What, my good friend, if you gave 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 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 humour him a little. Sir, my service to you.
_Drinks. _
HAST. (_Aside. _) I see this fellow wants to give us his company, and
forgets that he's an inn-keeper, 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 upon the expedient of electing each other, there's no business _for
us that sell ale_.
HAST. So, then you have no turn for politics I see.
HARD. Not in the least. There was a time, indeed, I fretted myself
about the mistakes of government, like other people; but, finding
myself every day grow more angry, and the government growing no better,
I left it to mend itself. Since that, I no more trouble my head about
_Heyder Alley_, or _Ally Cawn_, than about _Ally Croaker_. —Sir, my
service to you.
HAST. So that with eating above stairs, and drinking below; with
receiving your friends within, and amusing them without, you lead a
good pleasant bustling life of it.
HARD. I do stir about a great deal, that's certain. Half the
differences of the parish are adjusted in this very parlour.
MARL. (_After drinking. _) And you have an argument in your cup, old
gentleman, better than any in Westminster Hall.
HARD. Ay, young gentleman, that, and a little philosophy.
MARL. (_Aside. _) Well, this is the first time I ever heard of an
inn-keeper's philosophy!
HAST. So then, like an experienced general, you attack them on every
quarter. If you find their reason manageable, you attack it with your
philosophy; if you find they have no reason, you attack them with
this. —Here's your health, my philosopher.
_Drinks. _
HARD. Good, very good, thank you; ha! ha! Your generalship puts me in
mind of Prince Eugene, when he fought the Turks at the battle of
Belgrade. You shall hear.
MARL. Instead of the battle of Belgrade, I think it's almost time to
talk about supper. What has your philosophy got in the house for
supper?
HARD. For supper, sir! (_Aside. _) Was ever such a request to a man in
his own house?
MARL. Yes, sir; supper, sir: I begin to feel an appetite. I shall make
devilish work to-night in the larder, I promise you.
HARD. (_Aside. _) Such a brazen dog sure never my eyes beheld. (_To
him. _) Why really, sir, as for supper, I can't well tell. My Dorothy,
and the cook-maid, settle these things between them. I leave these kind
of things entirely to them.
MARL. You do, do you?
HARD. Entirely. By-the-by, I believe they are in actual consultation,
upon what's for supper, this moment in the kitchen.
MARL. Then I beg they'll admit _me_ as one of their privy council. It's
a way I have got. When I travel, I always choose to regulate my own
supper. Let the cook be called. No offence I hope, sir.
HARD. O no, sir, none in the least; yet, I don't know how, our Bridget,
the cook-maid, is not very communicative upon these occasions. Should
we send for her, she might scold us all out of the house.
HAST. Let's see the list of the larder then. I ask it as a favour. I
always match my appetite to my bill of fare.
MARL. (_To_ HARDCASTLE, _who looks at them with surprise_. ) Sir, he's
very right, and it's my way too.
HARD. Sir, you have a right to command here. Roger, bring us the bill
of fare for to-night's supper. I believe it's drawn up. Your manner,
Mr. Hastings, puts me in mind of my uncle, Colonel Wallop. It was a
saying of his that no man was sure of his supper till he had eaten it.
HAST. (_Aside. _) All upon the high ropes! His uncle a colonel! we shall
soon hear of his mother being a justice of peace. But let's hear the
bill of fare.
MARL. (_Perusing. _) What's here? For the first course; for the second
course; for the dessert. The devil, sir, do you think we have brought
down the whole joiner's company, or the corporation of Bedford, to eat
up such a supper? Two or three little things, clean and comfortable,
will do.
HAST. But let's hear it.
MARL. (_Reading. _) For the first course at the top, a pig, and pruin
sauce.
HAST. Damn your pig, I say.
MARL. And damn your pruin sauce, say I.
HARD. And yet, gentlemen, to men that are hungry, pig, with pruin
sauce, is very good eating.
MARL. At the bottom, a calf's tongue and brains.
HAST. Let your brains be knocked out, my good sir; I don't like them.
MARL. Or you may clap them on a plate by themselves. I do.
HARD. (_Aside. _) Their impudence confounds me. (_To them. _) Gentlemen,
you are my guests, make what alterations you please. Is there any thing
else you wish to retrench, or alter, gentlemen?
MARL. Item, A pork pie, a boiled rabbit and sausages, a florentine, a
shaking pudding, and a dish of tiff—taff—taffety cream!
HAST. Confound your made dishes. I shall be as much at a loss in this
house, as at a green and yellow dinner, at the French ambassador's
table. I'm for plain eating.
[Illustration:
HASTINGS. —"_Let your brains be knocked
out, my good sir; I don't like them. _"—_p. _ 338.
]
HARD. I'm sorry, gentlemen, that I have nothing you like; but if there
be any thing you have a particular fancy to——
MARL. Why really, sir, your bill of fare is so exquisite, that any one
part of it is full as good as another. Send us what you please. So much
for supper: and now to see that our beds are aired, and properly taken
care of.
HARD. I entreat you'll leave all that to me. You shall not stir a step.
MARL. Leave that to you? I protest, sir, you must excuse me; I always
look to these things myself.
HARD. I must insist, sir, you'll make yourself easy on that head.
MARL. You see I'm resolved on it. (_Aside. _) A very troublesome fellow
this, as ever I met with.
HARD. Well, sir, I'm resolved at least to attend you. (_Aside. _) This
may be modern modesty, but I never saw anything look so like
old-fashioned impudence.
_Exeunt_ MARL. _and_ HARD.
HASTINGS, _solus_.
HAST. So I find, this fellow's civilities begin to grow troublesome.
But who can be angry at those assiduities, which are meant to please
him? Ha! what do I see? Miss Neville, by all that's happy!
_Enter_ MISS NEVILLE.
MISS NEV. My dear Hastings! To what unexpected good fortune, to what
accident am I to ascribe this happy meeting?
HAST. Rather, let me ask the same question, as I could never have hoped
to meet my dear Constance at an inn.
MISS NEV. An inn? sure you mistake! my aunt, my guardian, lives here.
What could induce you to think this house an inn?
HAST. My friend, Mr. Marlow, with whom I came down, and I, have been
sent here as to an inn, I assure you. A young fellow, whom we
accidentally met at a house hard by, directed us hither.
MISS NEV. Certainly it must be one of my hopeful cousin's tricks, of
whom you have heard me talk so often, ha! ha! ha! ha!
HAST. He whom your aunt intends for you? He of whom I have such just
apprehensions?
MISS NEV. You have nothing to fear from him, I assure you. You'd adore
him, if you knew how heartily he despises me. My aunt knows it too, and
has undertaken to court me for him; and actually begins to think she
has made a conquest.
HAST. Thou dear dissembler! You must know, my Constance, I have just
seized this happy opportunity of my friend's visit here, to get
admittance into the family. The horses that carried us down, are now
fatigued with their journey; but they'll soon be refreshed; and then,
if my dearest girl will trust in her faithful Hastings, we shall soon
be landed in France; where, even among slaves, the laws of marriage are
respected.
MISS NEV. I have often told you that, though ready to obey you, I yet
should leave my little fortune behind with reluctance. The greatest
part of it was left me by my uncle, the India director, and chiefly
consists in jewels. I have been for some time persuading my aunt to let
me wear them. I fancy I am very near succeeding. The instant they are
put into my possession, you shall find me ready to make them and myself
yours.
HAST. Perish the baubles! Your person is all I desire. In the meantime,
my friend Marlow must not be let into his mistake; I know the strange
reserve of his temper is such, that if abruptly informed of it, he
would instantly quit the house, before our plan was ripe for execution.
MISS NEV. But how shall we keep him in the deception? Miss Hardcastle
is just returned from walking; what if we still continue to deceive
him? —This, this way——
_They confer.
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.
[Illustration:
HARDCASTLE. —"_You must not be
so talkative, Diggory. _"—_p. _ 333.
]
HARD. What, will nobody move?
1. SERV. I'm not to leave this place.
2. SERV. I'm sure it's no place of mine.
3. SERV. Nor mine, for sartain.
DIGG. Wauns, and I'm sure it canna be mine.
HARD. You numskulls! and so while, like your betters, you are
quarrelling for places, the guests must be starved. O you dunces! I
find I must begin all over again. —But don't I hear a coach drive into
the yard? To your posts, you blockheads. I'll go in the mean time and
give my old friend's son a hearty welcome at the gate.
_Exit_ HARDCASTLE.
DIGG. By the elevens, my place is gone quite out of my head.
ROGER. I know that my place is to be everywhere.
1. SERV. Where the devil is mine?
2. SERV. My place is to be no where at all; and so Ize go about my
business.
_Exeunt_ SERVANTS, _running about as if frighted, different ways_.
_Enter_ SERVANT _with candles, showing in_ MARLOW _and_ HASTINGS.
SERV. Welcome, gentlemen, very welcome. This way.
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 sideboard, or a marble
chimney-piece, though not actually put in the bill, inflame the bill
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 pretty 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.
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
familiarly acquainted with a single modest woman—except my mother—But
among females of another class, you know—
HAST. Aye, among them you are impudent enough of all conscience.
MARL. They are of _us_, you know.
HAST. But in the company of women of 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.
Faith, 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 but say half the fine things to them that I have
heard you lavish upon the bar-maid of an inn, or even a college
bed-maker—
MARL. Why, George, I can't say fine things to them. They freeze, they
petrify me. They may talk of a comet, or a burning mountain, or some
such bagatelle: but to me, a modest woman, dressed out in all her
finery, is the most tremendous 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 broad-star 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' 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 a
sure of a reception, and let honour do the rest.
HAST. My dear Marlow! —But I'll suppress 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 above the reach of a
milliner's prentice, or one of the duchesses of Drury-lane. —Pshaw! this
fellow here to interrupt us.
_Enter_ HARDCASTLE.
HARD. Gentlemen, once more you are heartily welcome. Which is Mr.
Marlow? Sir, you are 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. Hastings—gentlemen—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.
MARL. Don't you think the _ventre_ _d'or_ waistcoat will do with the
plain brown?
HARD. He first summoned the garrison, which might consist of about five
thousand 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 thousand 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
take that garrison without spilling a drop of blood. " So——
MARL. What, my good friend, if you gave 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 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 humour him a little. Sir, my service to you.
_Drinks. _
HAST. (_Aside. _) I see this fellow wants to give us his company, and
forgets that he's an inn-keeper, 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 upon the expedient of electing each other, there's no business _for
us that sell ale_.
HAST. So, then you have no turn for politics I see.
HARD. Not in the least. There was a time, indeed, I fretted myself
about the mistakes of government, like other people; but, finding
myself every day grow more angry, and the government growing no better,
I left it to mend itself. Since that, I no more trouble my head about
_Heyder Alley_, or _Ally Cawn_, than about _Ally Croaker_. —Sir, my
service to you.
HAST. So that with eating above stairs, and drinking below; with
receiving your friends within, and amusing them without, you lead a
good pleasant bustling life of it.
HARD. I do stir about a great deal, that's certain. Half the
differences of the parish are adjusted in this very parlour.
MARL. (_After drinking. _) And you have an argument in your cup, old
gentleman, better than any in Westminster Hall.
HARD. Ay, young gentleman, that, and a little philosophy.
MARL. (_Aside. _) Well, this is the first time I ever heard of an
inn-keeper's philosophy!
HAST. So then, like an experienced general, you attack them on every
quarter. If you find their reason manageable, you attack it with your
philosophy; if you find they have no reason, you attack them with
this. —Here's your health, my philosopher.
_Drinks. _
HARD. Good, very good, thank you; ha! ha! Your generalship puts me in
mind of Prince Eugene, when he fought the Turks at the battle of
Belgrade. You shall hear.
MARL. Instead of the battle of Belgrade, I think it's almost time to
talk about supper. What has your philosophy got in the house for
supper?
HARD. For supper, sir! (_Aside. _) Was ever such a request to a man in
his own house?
MARL. Yes, sir; supper, sir: I begin to feel an appetite. I shall make
devilish work to-night in the larder, I promise you.
HARD. (_Aside. _) Such a brazen dog sure never my eyes beheld. (_To
him. _) Why really, sir, as for supper, I can't well tell. My Dorothy,
and the cook-maid, settle these things between them. I leave these kind
of things entirely to them.
MARL. You do, do you?
HARD. Entirely. By-the-by, I believe they are in actual consultation,
upon what's for supper, this moment in the kitchen.
MARL. Then I beg they'll admit _me_ as one of their privy council. It's
a way I have got. When I travel, I always choose to regulate my own
supper. Let the cook be called. No offence I hope, sir.
HARD. O no, sir, none in the least; yet, I don't know how, our Bridget,
the cook-maid, is not very communicative upon these occasions. Should
we send for her, she might scold us all out of the house.
HAST. Let's see the list of the larder then. I ask it as a favour. I
always match my appetite to my bill of fare.
MARL. (_To_ HARDCASTLE, _who looks at them with surprise_. ) Sir, he's
very right, and it's my way too.
HARD. Sir, you have a right to command here. Roger, bring us the bill
of fare for to-night's supper. I believe it's drawn up. Your manner,
Mr. Hastings, puts me in mind of my uncle, Colonel Wallop. It was a
saying of his that no man was sure of his supper till he had eaten it.
HAST. (_Aside. _) All upon the high ropes! His uncle a colonel! we shall
soon hear of his mother being a justice of peace. But let's hear the
bill of fare.
MARL. (_Perusing. _) What's here? For the first course; for the second
course; for the dessert. The devil, sir, do you think we have brought
down the whole joiner's company, or the corporation of Bedford, to eat
up such a supper? Two or three little things, clean and comfortable,
will do.
HAST. But let's hear it.
MARL. (_Reading. _) For the first course at the top, a pig, and pruin
sauce.
HAST. Damn your pig, I say.
MARL. And damn your pruin sauce, say I.
HARD. And yet, gentlemen, to men that are hungry, pig, with pruin
sauce, is very good eating.
MARL. At the bottom, a calf's tongue and brains.
HAST. Let your brains be knocked out, my good sir; I don't like them.
MARL. Or you may clap them on a plate by themselves. I do.
HARD. (_Aside. _) Their impudence confounds me. (_To them. _) Gentlemen,
you are my guests, make what alterations you please. Is there any thing
else you wish to retrench, or alter, gentlemen?
MARL. Item, A pork pie, a boiled rabbit and sausages, a florentine, a
shaking pudding, and a dish of tiff—taff—taffety cream!
HAST. Confound your made dishes. I shall be as much at a loss in this
house, as at a green and yellow dinner, at the French ambassador's
table. I'm for plain eating.
[Illustration:
HASTINGS. —"_Let your brains be knocked
out, my good sir; I don't like them. _"—_p. _ 338.
]
HARD. I'm sorry, gentlemen, that I have nothing you like; but if there
be any thing you have a particular fancy to——
MARL. Why really, sir, your bill of fare is so exquisite, that any one
part of it is full as good as another. Send us what you please. So much
for supper: and now to see that our beds are aired, and properly taken
care of.
HARD. I entreat you'll leave all that to me. You shall not stir a step.
MARL. Leave that to you? I protest, sir, you must excuse me; I always
look to these things myself.
HARD. I must insist, sir, you'll make yourself easy on that head.
MARL. You see I'm resolved on it. (_Aside. _) A very troublesome fellow
this, as ever I met with.
HARD. Well, sir, I'm resolved at least to attend you. (_Aside. _) This
may be modern modesty, but I never saw anything look so like
old-fashioned impudence.
_Exeunt_ MARL. _and_ HARD.
HASTINGS, _solus_.
HAST. So I find, this fellow's civilities begin to grow troublesome.
But who can be angry at those assiduities, which are meant to please
him? Ha! what do I see? Miss Neville, by all that's happy!
_Enter_ MISS NEVILLE.
MISS NEV. My dear Hastings! To what unexpected good fortune, to what
accident am I to ascribe this happy meeting?
HAST. Rather, let me ask the same question, as I could never have hoped
to meet my dear Constance at an inn.
MISS NEV. An inn? sure you mistake! my aunt, my guardian, lives here.
What could induce you to think this house an inn?
HAST. My friend, Mr. Marlow, with whom I came down, and I, have been
sent here as to an inn, I assure you. A young fellow, whom we
accidentally met at a house hard by, directed us hither.
MISS NEV. Certainly it must be one of my hopeful cousin's tricks, of
whom you have heard me talk so often, ha! ha! ha! ha!
HAST. He whom your aunt intends for you? He of whom I have such just
apprehensions?
MISS NEV. You have nothing to fear from him, I assure you. You'd adore
him, if you knew how heartily he despises me. My aunt knows it too, and
has undertaken to court me for him; and actually begins to think she
has made a conquest.
HAST. Thou dear dissembler! You must know, my Constance, I have just
seized this happy opportunity of my friend's visit here, to get
admittance into the family. The horses that carried us down, are now
fatigued with their journey; but they'll soon be refreshed; and then,
if my dearest girl will trust in her faithful Hastings, we shall soon
be landed in France; where, even among slaves, the laws of marriage are
respected.
MISS NEV. I have often told you that, though ready to obey you, I yet
should leave my little fortune behind with reluctance. The greatest
part of it was left me by my uncle, the India director, and chiefly
consists in jewels. I have been for some time persuading my aunt to let
me wear them. I fancy I am very near succeeding. The instant they are
put into my possession, you shall find me ready to make them and myself
yours.
HAST. Perish the baubles! Your person is all I desire. In the meantime,
my friend Marlow must not be let into his mistake; I know the strange
reserve of his temper is such, that if abruptly informed of it, he
would instantly quit the house, before our plan was ripe for execution.
MISS NEV. But how shall we keep him in the deception? Miss Hardcastle
is just returned from walking; what if we still continue to deceive
him? —This, this way——
_They confer.
