MRS. HARDCASTLE. Don't be alarmed, 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. HARDCASTLE. 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 NEVILLE. Ay, people are generally calm at the misfortunes of others.
MRS. HARDCASTLE. Now I wonder a girl of your good sense should waste a thought upon such trumpery. We shall soon find them; and in the mean time you shall make use of my garnets till your jewels be found.
MISS NEVILLE. I detest garnets.
MRS. HARDCASTLE. The most becoming things 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 NEVILLE. I dislike them of all things. You shan't stir. – Was ever anything so provoking, to mislay my own jewels, and force me to wear her 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 NEVILLE. My dear cousin!
TONY. Vanish. She's here, and has missed them already. [Exit MISS NEVILLE.] Zounds! how she fidgets and spits about like a Catherine wheel.
Enter MRS. HARDCASTLE.
MRS. HARDCASTLE. 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. HARDCASTLE. We are robbed. My bureau has been broken open, the jewels taken out, and I'm undone.
TONY. Oh! is that all? Ha! ha! ha! By the laws, I never saw it acted better in my life. Ecod, I thought you was ruined in earnest, ha! ha! ha!
MRS. HARDCASTLE. 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. I'll bear witness, you know; call me to bear witness.
MRS. HARDCASTLE. 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'm to say so.
MRS. HARDCASTLE. My dearest Tony, but hear me. They're gone, I say.
TONY. By the laws, mamma, you make me for to laugh, ha! ha! I know who took them well enough, ha! ha! ha!
MRS. HARDCASTLE. Was there ever such a blockhead, that can't tell the difference between jest and earnest? I 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 us. I'll bear witness that they are gone.
MRS. HARDCASTLE. Was there ever such a cross-grained brute, that won't hear me? 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. HARDCASTLE. 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 enjoyed my distress?
TONY. I can bear witness to that.
MRS. HARDCASTLE. Do you insult me, monster? I'll teach you to vex your mother, I will.
TONY. I can bear witness to that. [He runs off, she follows him.]
Enter Miss HARDCASTLE and Maid.
MISS HARDCASTLE. What an unaccountable creature is that brother of mine, to send them to the house as an inn! ha! ha! I don't wonder at his impudence.
MAID. But what is more, madam, the young gentleman, as you passed by in your present dress, asked me if you were the bar-maid. He mistook you for the bar-maid, madam.
MISS HARDCASTLE. Did he? Then as I live, I'm resolved to keep up the delusion. Tell me, Pimple, 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 HARDCASTLE. And are you sure he does not remember my face or person?
MAID. Certain of it.
MISS HARDCASTLE. 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 HARDCASTLE. 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's no small victory gained over one who never addresses any but the wildest 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 you are sure you can act your part, and disguise your voice so that he may mistake that, as he has already mistaken your person?
MISS HARDCASTLE. 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 MAID.]
Enter MARLOW.
MARLOW. 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 curtsey down to the ground. I have at last got a moment to myself, and now for recollection. [Walks and muses.]
MISS HARDCASTLE. Did you call, sir? Did your honour call?
MARLOW. (Musing.) As for Miss Hardcastle, she's too grave and sentimental for me.
MISS HARDCASTLE. Did your honour call? (She still places herself before him, he turning away.)
MARLOW. No, child. (Musing.) Besides, from the glimpse I had of her, I think she squints.
MISS HARDCASTLE. I'm sure, sir, I heard the bell ring.