I believe I can't readily come at them. They may be missing, for aught I know to the contrary.

Tony. (Apart to MRS. HARDCASTLE.) Then why don't you tell her so at once, as she's so longing for them? Tell her they're lost. It's the only way to quiet her. Say they're lost, and call me to bear witness.

Mrs. Hard. (Apart to TONY.) You know, my dear, I'm only keeping them for you. So, if I say they're gone, you'll bear me witness, will you? He! he he! Tony. Never fear me. Ecod, I'll say I saw them taken out with my own eyes. Miss Nev. I desire them but for a day, madam. Just to be permitted to show them as relics, and then they may be locked up again.

Mrs. Hard. To be plain with you, my dear Constance, if I could find them, you should have them. They're missing, I assure you. Lost, for aught I know; but we must have patience, wherever they are.

Miss Nev. I'll not believe it; this is but a shallow pretence to deny me. I know they're too valuable to be so slightly kept, and as you are to answer for the loss

Mrs. Hard.

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. Hard. 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 Nev. Ay, people are generally calm at the misfortunes of others. Mrs. Hard. Now, I wonder a girl of your good sense should waste a thought upon such trumpery. We shall soon find them; and, in the meantime, you shall make use of my garnets, till your jewels be found.

Miss Nev. I detest garnets!

Mrs. Hard. 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 Nev. I dislike them of all things. (To TONY.) 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 Nev. 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 Catharine-wheel!

Enter MRS. HARDCASTLE.

Mrs. Hard. Confusion! thieves! robbers! We are cheated, plundered, broken open, undone !

Tony. What's the matter? what's the matter, mamma? I hope nothing has happened to any of the good family!

Mrs. Hard. We are robbed! My bureau has been broke open, the jewels taken out, and I'm undone.

Tony. Oh! is that all? Ha ha ha! By the laws, I never saw it better acted in my life. Ecod, I thought you was ruined in earnest; ha! ha ha! Mrs. Hard. Why, boy, I am ruined in earnest. My bureau has been broke 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. Hard. 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 am to say so.

Mrs. Hard. 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. Hard. 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. Hard. 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. Hard. 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. Hard. 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 Hard.

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 barmaid? He mistook you for the barmaid, madam.

Miss Hard. Did he? Then, as I live, I'm resolved to sion. Tell me, Pimple, how do you like my present dress? look something like Cherry in the "Beaux' Stratagem?"

keep up the deluDon't you think I

Maid. It's the dress, madam, that every lady wears in the country, but

when she visits or receives company.

Miss Hard. And are you sure he does not remember my face or person?

Maid. Certain of it.

Miss Hard. 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 Hard. 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 are you sure you can act your part, and disguise your voice, so that he may mistake that, as he has already mistaken your person?

Miss Hard. 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.

Marl. 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 Hard. Did you call, sir? did your honour call? Marl. (Musing.) As for Miss Hardcastle, she's too grave and sentimental for me.

Miss Hard. Did your honour call?

(She still places herself before him, he turning away.) Marl. No, child, (Musing.) Besides, from the glimpse I had of her, I think she squints.

Miss Hard. I'm sure, sir, I heard the bell ring.

Marl. No, no. (Musing.) I have pleased my father, however, by coming down, and I'll to-morrow please myself by returning.

(Taking out his tablets, and perusing.) Miss Hard. Perhaps the other gentleman called, sir. Marl. I tell you, no.

Miss Hard. I should be glad to know, sir. We have such a parcel of

servants.

Marl. No, no, I tell you. (Looks full in her face.) Yes, child, I think I did call. I wanted-I wanted-I vow, child, you are vastly handsome. Miss Hard. Oh! la, sir, you'll make one ashamed. Marl.

Never saw a more sprightly, malicious eye. Yes, yes, my dear, I did call. Have you got any of your-a-what d'ye call it, in the house?

36

Miss Hard. No, sir, we have been out of that these ten days.
Marl. One may call in this house, I find, to very little purpose.

Suppose

I should call for a taste, just by way of trial, of the nectar of your lips; perhaps I might be disappointed in that, too.

Miss Hard. Nectar! nectar! that's a liquor there's no call for in these parts. French, I suppose. We keep no French wines here, sir.

Marl. Of true English growth, I assure you.

Miss Hard. Then it's odd I should not know it. We brew all sorts of wines in this house, and I have lived here these eighteen years.

Marl. Eighteen years? Why, one would think, child, you kept the bar before you were born. How old are you?

Miss Hard. Oh, sir, I must not tell my age! They say women and music should never be dated.

Marl. To guess at this distance, you can't be much above forty. (Approaching.) Yet nearer, I don't think so much. close to some women, they look younger still; indeed

Miss Hard. Pray, sir, keep your distance.

(Approaching.) By coming but when we come very close

(Attempting to kiss her.)

One would think you wanted

to know one's age as they do horses, by mark of mouth. Marl. I protest, child, you use me extremely ill. If you keep me at this distance, how is it possible you and I can be ever acquainted?

Miss Hard. And who wants to be acquainted with you? I want no such acquaintance, not I. I'm sure you did not treat Miss Hardcastle, that was here a while ago, in this obstropalous manner. I'll warrant me, before her you looked dashed, and kept bowing to the ground, and talked, for all the world, as if you was before a justice of peace.

Marl. (Aside.) Egad! she has hit it, sure enough. (To her)—In awe of her, child? Ha ha! ha! A mere awkward, squinting thing; no, no. I find you don't know me. I laughed, and rallied her a little; but I was unwilling to be too severe. No, I could not be too severe.

Miss Hard. Oh! then, sir, you are a favourite, I find, among the ladies. Marl. Yes, my dear, a great favourite. And yet, hang me, I don't see what they find in me to follow. At the ladies' club in town, I'm called their agreeable Rattle. Rattle, child, is not my real name, but one I'm known by. My name is Solomons. Mr. Solomons, my dear, at your service

(Offering to salute her., Miss Hard. Hold, sir; you were introducing me to your club, not to yourself. And you're so great a favourite there, you say?

Marl. Yes, my dear; there's Mrs. Mantrap, Lady Betty Blackleg, the Countess of Sligo, Mrs. Langhorns, old Miss Biddy Buckskin, and your humble servant, keep up the spirit of the place.

Miss Hard. Then it's a very merry place, I suppose.

Marl. Yes, as merry as cards, suppers, wine, and old women can make us. Miss Hard. And their agreeable Rattle; ha! ha! ha!