She Stoops to Conquer; Or, The Mistakes of a Night: A Comedy
impossible; and I can never harbour a thought of seducing simplicity
that trusted in my honour, of bringing ruin upon one whose only fault
was being too lovely.
MISS HARDCASTLE. (Aside.) Generous man! I now begin to admire him.
(To him.) But I am sure my family is as good as Miss Hardcastle’s; and
though I’m poor, that’s no great misfortune to a contented mind; and,
until this moment, I never thought that it was bad to want fortune.
MARLOW. And why now, my pretty simplicity?
MISS HARDCASTLE. Because it puts me at a distance from one that, if I
had a thousand pounds, I would give it all to.
MARLOW. (Aside.) This simplicity bewitches me, so that if I stay, I’m
undone. I must make one bold effort, and leave her. (To her.) Your
partiality in my favour, my dear, touches me most sensibly: and were I
to live for myself alone, I could easily fix my choice. But I owe too
much to the opinion of the world, too much to the authority of a
father; so that--I can scarcely speak it--it affects me. Farewell.
[Exit.]
MISS HARDCASTLE. I never knew half his merit till now. He shall not
go, if I have power or art to detain him. I’ll still preserve the
character in which I STOOPED TO CONQUER; but will undeceive my papa,
who perhaps may laugh him out of his resolution. [Exit.]
Enter Tony and MISS NEVILLE.
TONY. Ay, you may steal for yourselves the next time. I have done my
duty. She has got the jewels again, that’s a sure thing; but she
believes it was all a mistake of the servants.
MISS NEVILLE. But, my dear cousin, sure you won’t forsake us in this
distress? If she in the least suspects that I am going off, I shall
certainly be locked up, or sent to my aunt Pedigree’s, which is ten
times worse.
TONY. To be sure, aunts of all kinds are damned bad things. But what
can I do? I have got you a pair of horses that will fly like
Whistle-jacket; and I’m sure you can’t say but I have courted you
nicely before her face. Here she comes, we must court a bit or two
more, for fear she should suspect us. [They retire, and seem to
fondle.]
Enter MRS. HARDCASTLE.
MRS. HARDCASTLE. Well, I was greatly fluttered, to be sure. But my
son tells me it was all a mistake of the servants. I shan’t be easy,
however, till they are fairly married, and then let her keep her own
fortune. But what do I see? fondling together, as I’m alive. I never
saw Tony so sprightly before. Ah! have I caught you, my pretty doves?
What, billing, exchanging stolen glances and broken murmurs? Ah!
TONY. As for murmurs, mother, we grumble a little now and then, to be
sure. But there’s no love lost between us.
MRS. HARDCASTLE. A mere sprinkling, Tony, upon the flame, only to make
it burn brighter.
MISS NEVILLE. Cousin Tony promises to give us more of his company at
home. Indeed, he shan’t leave us any more. It won’t leave us, cousin
Tony, will it?
TONY. O! it’s a pretty creature. No, I’d sooner leave my horse in a
pound, than leave you when you smile upon one so. Your laugh makes you
so becoming.
MISS NEVILLE. Agreeable cousin! Who can help admiring that natural
humour, that pleasant, broad, red, thoughtless (patting his cheek)--ah!
it’s a bold face.
MRS. HARDCASTLE. Pretty innocence!
TONY. I’m sure I always loved cousin Con.’s hazle eyes, and her
pretty long fingers, that she twists this way and that over the
haspicholls, like a parcel of bobbins.
MRS. HARDCASTLE. Ah! he would charm the bird from the tree. I was
never so happy before. My boy takes after his father, poor Mr.
Lumpkin, exactly. The jewels, my dear Con., shall be yours
incontinently. You shall have them. Isn’t he a sweet boy, my dear?
You shall be married to-morrow, and we’ll put off the rest of his
education, like Dr. Drowsy’s sermons, to a fitter opportunity.
Enter DIGGORY.
DIGGORY. Where’s the ’squire? I have got a letter for your worship.
TONY. Give it to my mamma. She reads all my letters first.
DIGGORY. I had orders to deliver it into your own hands.
TONY. Who does it come from?
DIGGORY. Your worship mun ask that o’ the letter itself.
TONY. I could wish to know though (turning the letter, and gazing on
it).
MISS NEVILLE. (Aside.) Undone! undone! A letter to him from
Hastings. I know the hand. If my aunt sees it, we are ruined for
ever. I’ll keep her employed a little if I can. (To MRS.
HARDCASTLE.) But I have not told you, madam, of my cousin’s smart
answer just now to Mr. Marlow. We so laughed.--You must know,
madam.--This way a little, for he must not hear us. [They confer.]
TONY. (Still gazing.) A damned cramp piece of penmanship, as ever I
saw in my life. I can read your print hand very well. But here are
such handles, and shanks, and dashes, that one can scarce tell the head
from the tail.--“To Anthony Lumpkin, Esquire.” It’s very odd, I can
read the outside of my letters, where my own name is, well enough; but
when I come to open it, it’s all----buzz. That’s hard, very hard; for
the inside of the letter is always the cream of the correspondence.
MRS. HARDCASTLE. Ha! ha! ha! Very well, very well. And so my son was
too hard for the philosopher.
MISS NEVILLE. Yes, madam; but you must hear the rest, madam. A
little more this way, or he may hear us. You’ll hear how he puzzled
him again.
MRS. HARDCASTLE. He seems strangely puzzled now himself, methinks.
TONY. (Still gazing.) A damned up and down hand, as if it was
disguised in liquor.--(Reading.) Dear Sir,--ay, that’s that. Then
there’s an M, and a T, and an S, but whether the next be an izzard, or
an R, confound me, I cannot tell.
MRS. HARDCASTLE. What’s that, my dear? Can I give you any
assistance?
MISS NEVILLE. Pray, aunt, let me read it. Nobody reads a cramp hand
better than I. (Twitching the letter from him.) Do you know who it is
from?
TONY. Can’t tell, except from Dick Ginger, the feeder.
MISS NEVILLE. Ay, so it is. (Pretending to read.) Dear ’Squire,
hoping that you’re in health, as I am at this present. The gentlemen
of the Shake-bag club has cut the gentlemen of Goose-green quite out of
feather. The odds--um--odd battle--um--long fighting--um--here, here,
it’s all about cocks and fighting; it’s of no consequence; here, put it
up, put it up. (Thrusting the crumpled letter upon him.)
TONY. But I tell you, miss, it’s of all the consequence in the world.
I would not lose the rest of it for a guinea. Here, mother, do you
make it out. Of no consequence! (Giving MRS. HARDCASTLE the letter.)
MRS. HARDCASTLE. How’s this?--(Reads.) “Dear ’Squire, I’m now
waiting for Miss Neville, with a post-chaise and pair, at the bottom of
the garden, but I find my horses yet unable to perform the journey. I
expect you’ll assist us with a pair of fresh horses, as you promised.
Dispatch is necessary, as the HAG (ay, the hag), your mother, will
otherwise suspect us! Yours, Hastings.” Grant me patience. I shall
run distracted! My rage chokes me.
MISS NEVILLE. I hope, madam, you’ll suspend your resentment for a few
moments, and not impute to me any impertinence, or sinister design,
that belongs to another.
MRS. HARDCASTLE. (Curtseying very low.) Fine spoken, madam, you are
most miraculously polite and engaging, and quite the very pink of
courtesy and circumspection, madam. (Changing her tone.) And you, you
great ill-fashioned oaf, with scarce sense enough to keep your mouth
shut: were you, too, joined against me? But I’ll defeat all your plots
in a moment. As for you, madam, since you have got a pair of fresh
horses ready, it would be cruel to disappoint them. So, if you please,
instead of running away with your spark, prepare, this very moment, to
run off with ME. Your old aunt Pedigree will keep you secure, I’ll
warrant me. You too, sir, may mount your horse, and guard us upon the
way. Here, Thomas, Roger, Diggory! I’ll show you, that I wish you
better than you do yourselves. [Exit.]
MISS NEVILLE. So now I’m completely ruined.
TONY. Ay, that’s a sure thing.
MISS NEVILLE. What better could be expected from being connected with
such a stupid fool,--and after all the nods and signs I made him?
TONY. By the laws, miss, it was your own cleverness, and not my
stupidity, that did your business. You were so nice and so busy with
your Shake-bags and Goose-greens, that I thought you could never be
making believe.
Enter HASTINGS.
HASTINGS. So, sir, I find by my servant, that you have shown my
letter, and betrayed us. Was this well done, young gentleman?
TONY. Here’s another. Ask miss there, who betrayed you. Ecod, it was
her doing, not mine.
Enter MARLOW.
MARLOW. So I have been finely used here among you. Rendered
contemptible, driven into ill manners, despised, insulted, laughed at.
TONY. Here’s another. We shall have old Bedlam broke loose
presently.
MISS NEVILLE. And there, sir, is the gentleman to whom we all owe
every obligation.
MARLOW. What can I say to him, a mere boy, an idiot, whose ignorance
and age are a protection?
HASTINGS. A poor contemptible booby, that would but disgrace
correction.
MISS NEVILLE. Yet with cunning and malice enough to make himself
merry with all our embarrassments.
HASTINGS. An insensible cub.
MARLOW. Replete with tricks and mischief.
TONY. Baw! damme, but I’ll fight you both, one after the
other----with baskets.
MARLOW. As for him, he’s below resentment. But your conduct, Mr.
Hastings, requires an explanation. You knew of my mistakes, yet would
not undeceive me.
HASTINGS. Tortured as I am with my own disappointments, is this a time
for explanations? It is not friendly, Mr. Marlow.
MARLOW. But, sir----
MISS NEVILLE. Mr. Marlow, we never kept on your mistake till it was
too late to undeceive you.
Enter Servant.
SERVANT. My mistress desires you’ll get ready immediately, madam. The
horses are putting to. Your hat and things are in the next room. We
are to go thirty miles before morning. [Exit Servant.]
MISS NEVILLE. Well, well: I’ll come presently.
MARLOW. (To HASTINGS.) Was it well done, sir, to assist in rendering
me ridiculous? To hang me out for the scorn of all my acquaintance?
Depend upon it, sir, I shall expect an explanation.
HASTINGS. Was it well done, sir, if you’re upon that subject, to
deliver what I entrusted to yourself, to the care of another sir?
MISS NEVILLE. Mr. Hastings! Mr. Marlow! Why will you increase my
distress by this groundless dispute? I implore, I entreat you----
Enter Servant.
SERVANT. Your cloak, madam. My mistress is impatient. [Exit
Servant.]
MISS NEVILLE. I come. Pray be pacified. If I leave you thus, I
shall die with apprehension.
Enter Servant.
SERVANT. Your fan, muff, and gloves, madam. The horses are waiting.
MISS NEVILLE. O, Mr. Marlow! if you knew what a scene of constraint
and ill-nature lies before me, I’m sure it would convert your
resentment into pity.
MARLOW. I’m so distracted with a variety of passions, that I don’t
know what I do. Forgive me, madam. George, forgive me. You know my
hasty temper, and should not exasperate it.
HASTINGS. The torture of my situation is my only excuse.
MISS NEVILLE. Well, my dear Hastings, if you have that esteem for me
that I think, that I am sure you have, your constancy for three years
will but increase the happiness of our future connexion. If----
MRS. HARDCASTLE. (Within.) Miss Neville. Constance, why Constance, I
say.
MISS NEVILLE. I’m coming. Well, constancy, remember, constancy is the
word. [Exit.]
HASTINGS. My heart! how can I support this? To be so near happiness,
and such happiness!
MARLOW. (To Tony.) You see now, young gentleman, the effects of your