MISS NEVILLE. There's something generous in my cousin's manner. He falls out before faces to be forgiven in private.
TONY. That's a damned confounded – crack.
MRS. HARDCASTLE. Ah! he's a sly one. Don't you think they are 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. Come, Tony.
TONY. You had as good not make me, I tell you. (Measuring.)
MISS NEVILLE. O lud! he has almost cracked my head.
MRS. HARDCASTLE. O, 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 no longer.
MRS. HARDCASTLE. 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 genteel? Did not I prescribe for you every day, and weep while the receipt was operating?
TONY. Ecod! you had reason to weep, for you have been dosing me ever since I was born. I have gone through every receipt in the Complete Huswife ten times over; and you have thoughts of coursing me through Quincy next spring. But, ecod! I tell you, I'll not be made a fool of no longer.
MRS. HARDCASTLE. Wasn't it all for your good, viper? Wasn't it all 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. HARDCASTLE. 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. HARDCASTLE. Was ever the like? But I see he wants to break my heart, I see he does.
HASTINGS. Dear madam, permit me to lecture the young gentleman a little. I'm certain I can persuade him to his duty.
MRS. HARDCASTLE. 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? [Exeunt MRS. HARDCASTLE and MISS NEVILLE.]
TONY. (Singing.) "There was a young man riding by, and fain would have his will. Rang do didlo 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.
HASTINGS. Then you're no friend to the ladies, I find, my pretty young gentleman?
TONY. That's as I find 'um.
HASTINGS. 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.
HASTINGS. (Aside.) Pretty encouragement this for a lover!
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.
HASTINGS. To me she appears sensible and silent.
TONY. Ay, before company. But when she's with her playmate, she's as loud as a hog in a gate.
HASTINGS. 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 a ditch.
HASTINGS. 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.
HASTINGS. Well, what say you to a friend that would take this bitter bargain off your hands?
TONY. Anon.
HASTINGS. Would you thank him that would take Miss Neville, and leave you to happiness and your dear Betsy?
TONY. Ay; but where is there such a friend, for who would take her?
HASTINGS. 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.
TONY. Assist you! Ecod I will, to the last drop of my blood. I'll clap a pair of horses to your chaise that shall trundle you off in a twinkling, and may he get you a part of her fortin beside, in jewels, that you little dream of.
HASTINGS. 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 fears no noise Where the thundering cannons roar." [Exeunt.]
ACT THE THIRD
Enter HARDCASTLE, alone.
HARDCASTLE. What could my old friend Sir Charles mean by recommending his son as the modestest young man in town? To me he appears the most impudent piece of brass that ever spoke with a tongue. He has taken possession of the easy chair by the fire-side 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.
HARDCASTLE. Well, my Kate, I see you have changed your dress, as I bade you; and yet, I believe, there was no great occasion.
MISS HARDCASTLE. I find such a pleasure, sir, in obeying your commands, that I take care to observe them without ever debating their propriety.
HARDCASTLE. And yet, Kate, I sometimes give you some cause, particularly when I recommended my modest gentleman to you as a lover to-day.
MISS HARDCASTLE. You taught me to expect something extraordinary, and I find the original exceeds the description.
HARDCASTLE. I was never so surprised in my life! He has quite confounded all my faculties!
MISS HARDCASTLE. I never saw anything like it: and a man of the world too!
HARDCASTLE. Ay, he learned it all abroad – what a fool was I, to think a young man could learn modesty by travelling. He might as soon learn wit at a masquerade.
MISS HARDCASTLE. It seems all natural to him.