Part 9 (1/2)
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 a.s.sist me, I'll engage to whip her off to France, and you shall never hear more of her.
TONY. a.s.sist 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 bra.s.s 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.
HARDCASTLE. A good deal a.s.sisted by bad company and a French dancing-master.
MISS HARDCASTLE. Sure you mistake, papa! A French dancing-master could never have taught him that timid look--that awkward address--that bashful manner--
HARDCASTLE. Whose look? whose manner, child?
MISS HARDCASTLE. Mr. Marlow's: his mauvaise honte, his timidity, struck me at the first sight.
HARDCASTLE. Then your first sight deceived you; for I think him one of the most brazen first sights that ever astonished my senses.