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ILLUSTRATIONS IN COLOUR 
 
 ACT II. SCENE I. 
 
 HASTINGS. Give me leave to introduce Miss 
 
 Constance Neville to your 
 acquaintance . Frontispiece 
 
 ACT I. SCENE I. 
 
 Page 
 
 MRS. HARDCASTLE. The two Miss Hoggs . . n 
 
 HARDCASTLE. When I went to make a bow, I 
 
 popt my bald head into Mrs. 
 Frizzle's face . . 15 
 
 MRS. HARDCASTLE. Won't you give papa and me a 
 
 little of your company, lovee ? 1 9 
 
 Miss HARDCASTLE. My dear papa, say no more . 25 
 
 Miss HARDCASTLE. Tell me, Constance : how do I look 
 
 this evening? . . 29 
 
 ACT I. SCENE II. 
 
 SECOND FELLOW. I loves to hear him sing, bekeays 
 
 he never gives us nothing 
 that 's low 35 
 
 3 
 
She Stoops to Conquer 
 
 ACT II. SCENE I. 
 
 Page 
 
 DIGGORY. Then, ecod, your worship must not 
 
 tell the story of Old Grouse 
 in the gun-room . . 51 
 
 HARDCASTLE. Half the differences of the parish 
 
 are adjusted in this very 
 parlour . . . 61 
 
 MARLOW. Item, a pork pie, a boiled rabbit 
 
 and sausages, and a dish of 
 tiff-taff-taffety cream ! . 67 
 
 HASTINGS. Miss Neville, by all that's happy ! . 73 
 
 Miss HARDCASTLE. You were going to observe, sir 79 
 
 TONY. What do you follow me for, Cousin 
 
 Con? ... 85 
 
 MRS. HARDCASTLE. Back to back, my pretties, that 
 
 Mr. Hastings may see you . 91 
 
 TONY. I have seen her and sister cry over 
 
 a book for an hour together 97 
 
 ACT III. SCENE I. 
 
 HARDCASTLE. Well, my Kate, I see you have 
 
 changed your dress, as I bid 
 you .... 107 
 
 TONY. Say they 're lost, and call me to 
 
 bear witness . . . 115 
 
 4 
 
She Stoops to Conquer 
 
 ACT III. SCENE I. 
 
 Page 
 
 Miss HARDCASTLE. Tell me, Pimple, how do you like 
 
 my present dress ? . . 123 
 
 MARLOW. Never saw a more sprightly, mali- 
 
 cious eye . . .129 
 
 MARLOW. Keep up the spirit of the place . 133 
 
 ACT IV. SCENE I. 
 
 MARLOW. By Heaven, she weeps . . 151 
 
 Miss NEVILLE. Who can help admiring that 
 
 pleasant, broad, red, thought- 
 less ah! it's a bold face 157 
 
 MRS. HARDCASTLE. And you, you great ill-fashioned 
 
 oaf . . . .165 
 
 ACT V. SCENE I. 
 
 SIR CHARLES. And how did he behave, madam? 179 
 
 MARLOW. Does this look like security ? Does 
 
 this look like confidence ? . 193 
 
DRAMATIS PERSONS 
 
 SIR CHARLES MARLOW. 
 
 YOUNG MARLOW, his Son. 
 
 HARDCASTLE. 
 
 HASTINGS. 
 
 TONY LUMPKIN. 
 
 DIGGORY. 
 
 MRS. HARDCASTLE. 
 
 Miss HARDCASTLE. 
 
 Miss NEVILLE. 
 
 MAID. 
 
 Landlord, Servants, etc. etc. 
 
SCENE I 
 
 A chamber in an old-fashioned house. 
 Enter MRS. HARDCASTLE and MR. HARDCASTLE. 
 
 MRS. HARD. I vow, Mr. Hardcastle, you're very par- 
 ticular. Is there a creature in the whole country, 
 but ourselves, that does not take a trip to town 
 now and then to rub off the rust a little ? There 's 
 the two Miss Hoggs, and our neighbour Mrs. 
 Grigsby, go to take a month's polishing every winter. 
 
 HARD. Ay, and bring back vanity and affectation to 
 last them the whole year. I wonder why London 
 cannot keep its own fools at home. In my time, the 
 follies of the town crept slowly among us, but now 
 they travel faster than a stage-coach. Its fopperies 
 come down, not only as inside passengers, but in the 
 very basket. 
 
 MRS. HARD. Ay, your times were fine times, indeed ; 
 you have been telling us of them for many a long 
 year. Here we live in an old rumbling mansion, that 
 looks for all the world like an inn, but that we never 
 see company. Our best visitors are old Mrs. Oddfish, 
 the curate's wife, and little Cripplegate, the lame 
 B 9 
 
<W 
 
sc. i.] She Stoops to Conquer 
 
 dancing-master ; and all our entertainment, your old 
 stories of Prince Eugene and the Duke of Marl- 
 borough. I hate such old-fashioned trumpery. 
 
 HARD. And I love it. I love everything that 's old : 
 old friends, old times, old manners, old books, old 
 wine ; and, I believe, Dorothy \Jaking her hand'], 
 you '11 own I have been pretty fond of an old wife. 
 
 MRS. HARD. Lord, Mr. Hardcastle, you 're for ever at 
 your Dorothys, and your old wives. You may be a 
 Darby, but I '11 be no Joan, I promise you. I 'm not 
 so old as you 'd make me, by more than one good 
 year. Add twenty to twenty, and make money of 
 that. 
 
 HARD. Let me see ; twenty added to twenty, makes 
 just fifty and seven. 
 
 MRS. HARD. It's false, Mr. Hardcastle: I was but 
 twenty when Tony, that I had by Mr. Lumpkin, my 
 first husband, was born ; and he 's not come to years 
 of discretion yet. 
 
 HARD. Nor ever will, I dare answer for him. Ay, you 
 have taught him finely. 
 
 MRS. HARD. No matter, Tony Lumpkin has a good 
 fortune. My son is not to live by his learning. I 
 don't think a boy wants much learning to spend 
 fifteen hundred a year. 
 
 HARD. Learning, quotha! A mere composition of 
 tricks and mischief. 
 
 MRS. HARD. Humour, my dear : nothing but humour. 
 Come, Mr. Hardcastle, you must allow the boy a 
 little humour. 
 
 13 
 
Q 
 
 . 3 
 
 
 UJfien ^J went to make a 6ou>, z/ popt my 6 aid fie ad 
 
 Mo yTlrs. ct rizzle s face. 
 
 ACT 1. SCENE 1 
 
sc. L] She Stoops to Conquer 
 
 HARD. I 'd sooner allow him a horse-pond. If burning 
 the footman's shoes, frighting the maids, worrying 
 the kittens be humour, he has it. It was but 
 yesterday he fastened my wig to the back of my chair, 
 and when I went to make a bow, I popt my bald 
 head into Mrs. Frizzle's face. 
 
 MRS. HARD. And am I to blame ? The poor boy was 
 always too sickly to do any good. A school would 
 be his death. When he comes to be a little stronger, 
 who knows what a year or two's Latin may do for him? 
 
 HARD. Latin for him ! A cat and fiddle. No, no, the 
 ale-house and the stable are the only schools he'll 
 ever go to. 
 
 MRS. HARD. Well, we must not snub the poor boy 
 now, for I believe we shan't have him long among 
 us. Anybody that looks in his face may see he's 
 consumptive. 
 
 HARD. Ay, if growing too fat be one of the symptoms. 
 
 MRS. HARD. He coughs sometimes. 
 
 HARD. Yes, when his liquor goes the wrong way. 
 
 MRS. HARD. I 'm actually afraid of his lungs. 
 
 HARD. And truly so am I ; for he sometimes whoops 
 like a speaking trumpet. [TONY hallooing behind the 
 scenes^ Oh, there he goes a very consumptive 
 figure, truly. 
 
 Enter TONY, crossing the stage. 
 
 MRS. HARD. Tony, where are you going, my charmer ? 
 Won't you give papa and me a little of your company, 
 lovee ? 
 
 c 17 
 
vt 
 
 CUon t you yioe papa and me a little 
 of your company, looee? 
 
sc. i.] She Stoops to Conquer 
 
 TONY. I 'm in haste, mother ; I cannot stay. 
 
 MRS. HARD. You shan't venture out this raw evening, 
 
 my dear ; you look most shockingly. 
 TONY. I can't stay, I tell you. The Three Pigeons 
 
 expects me down every moment. There 's some fun 
 
 going forward. 
 
 HARD. Ay ; the ale-house, the old place : I thought so. 
 MRS. HARD. A low, paltry set of fellows. 
 TONY. Not so low neither. There's Dick Muggins 
 
 the exciseman, Jack Slang the horse-doctor, little 
 
 Aminadab that grinds the music-box, and Tom 
 
 Twist that spins the pewter platter. 
 MRS. HARD. Pray, my dear, disappoint them for one 
 
 night at least. 
 TONY. As for disappointing them, I should not so much 
 
 mind ; but I can't abide to disappoint myself. 
 MRS. HARD. [Detaining him.~\ You shan't go. 
 TONY. I will, I tell you. 
 MRS. HARD. I say you shan't. 
 TONY. We '11 see which is the strongest, you or 1 1 
 
 \Exit, hauling her out. 
 
 HARDCASTLE, solus. 
 
 HARD. Ay, there goes a pair that only spoil each other. 
 But is not the whole age in a combination to drive 
 sense and discretion out of doors? There's my 
 pretty darling Kate ; the fashions of the times have 
 almost infected her too. By living a year or two in 
 town, she is as fond of gauze, and French frippery, 
 as the best of them. 
 
 21 
 
She Stoops to Conquer [ACT i. 
 
 Enter Miss HARDCASTLE. 
 
 HARD. Blessings on my pretty innocence ! Brest out 
 as usual, my Kate. Goodness ! What a quantity of 
 superfluous silk hast thou got about thee, girl ! I 
 could never teach the fools of this age that the 
 indigent world could be clothed out of the trim- 
 mings of the vain. 
 
 Miss HARD. You know our agreement, sir. You allow 
 me the morning to receive and pay visits, and to 
 dress in my own manner ; and in the evening, I put 
 on my housewife's dress to please you. 
 
 HARD. Well, remember I insist on the terms of our 
 agreement ; and, by the bye, I believe I shall have 
 occasion to try your obedience this very evening. 
 
 Miss HARD. I protest, sir, I don't comprehend your 
 meaning. 
 
 HARD. Then, to be plain with you, Kate, I expect the 
 young gentleman I have chosen to be your husband 
 from town this very day. I have his father's letter, 
 in which he informs me his son is set out, and that 
 he intends to follow himself shortly after. 
 
 Miss HARD. Indeed ! I wish I had known something 
 of this before. Bless me, how shall I behave ? It 's 
 a thousand to one I shan't like him ; our meeting 
 will be so formal, and so like a thing of business, 
 that I shall find no room for friendship or esteem. 
 
 HARD. Depend upon it, child, I '11 never control your 
 choice ; but Mr. Marlow, whom I have pitched upon, 
 is the son of my old friend, Sir Charles Marlow, of 
 
 22 
 
 9**- 
 
 I 
 
sc. i.] She Stoops to Conquer 
 
 whom you have heard me talk so often. The young 
 gentleman has been bred a scholar, and is designed 
 for an employment in the service of his country. I 
 am told he is a man of an excellent understanding. 
 Miss HARD. Is he? 
 HARD. Very generous. 
 Miss HARD. I believe I shall like him. 
 HARD. Young and brave. 
 Miss HARD. I 'm sure I shall like him. 
 HARD. And very handsome. 
 Miss HARD. My dear papa, say no more [kissing his 
 
 hand} ; he 's mine, I '11 have him ! 
 HARD. And to crown all, Kate, he 's one of the most 
 bashful and reserved young fellows in all the world. 
 Miss HARD. Eh ! you have frozen me to death again. 
 That word reserved has undone all the rest of his 
 accomplishments. A reserved lover, it is said, 
 always makes a suspicious husband. 
 HARD. On the contrary, modesty seldom resides in 
 a breast that is not enriched with nobler virtues. 
 It was the very feature in his character that first 
 struck me. 
 
 Miss HARD. He must have more striking features to 
 catch me, I promise you. However, if he be so 
 young, so handsome, and so everything, as you 
 mention, I believe he '11 do still. I think I '11 
 have him. 
 HARD. Ay, Kate, but there is still an obstacle. It's 
 
 more than an even wager, he may not have you. 
 Miss HARD. My dear papa, why will you mortify one 
 
 23 
 

 dear papa, say no more. 
 
 ACT 1, SCENE 1 
 
sc. i.] She Stoops to Conquer 
 
 so? Well, if he refuses, instead of breaking my 
 heart at his indifference, I '11 only break my glass for 
 its flattery, set my cap to some newer fashion, and 
 look out for some less difficult admirer. 
 HARD. Bravely resolved ! In the meantime I '11 go 
 prepare the servants for his reception ; as we seldom 
 see company, they want as much training as a 
 company of recruits the first day's muster. \Exit. 
 
 Miss HARDCASTLE, sola. 
 
 Miss HARD. This news of papa's puts me all in a 
 flutter. Young handsome : these he puts last ; but 
 I put them foremost. Sensible good-natured : I 
 like all that. But then reserved, and sheepish : 
 that 's much against him. Yet, can't he be cured of 
 his timidity, by being taught to be proud of his wife ? 
 Yes ; and can't I But, I vow, I 'm disposing of the 
 husband, before I have secured the lover. 
 
 Enter Miss NEVILLE. 
 
 Miss HARD. I 'm glad you 're come, Neville, my dear. 
 Tell me, Constance : how do I look this evening ? 
 Is there anything whimsical about me? Is it one 
 of my well-looking days, child? Am I in face 
 to-day ? 
 
 Miss NEV. Perfectly, my dear. Yet, now I look again 
 bless me ! sure no accident has happened among 
 the canary birds, or the gold fishes. Has your 
 brother or the cat been meddling ? Or, has the last 
 novel been too moving? 
 
 27 
 
Z/ell me, Constance: haio do ^J look this eoening? 
 
 
sc. i.] She Stoops to Conquer 
 
 Miss HARD. No; nothing of all this. I have been 
 threatened I can scarce get it out I have been 
 threatened with a lover. 
 -Miss NEV. And his name 
 
 Miss HARD. Is Marlow. 
 
 Miss NEV. Indeed ! 
 
 Miss HARD. The son of Sir Charles Marlow. 
 
 Miss NEV. As I live, the most intimate friend of Mr. 
 Hastings, my admirer. They are never asunder. 
 I believe you must have seen him when we lived in 
 town. 
 
 Miss HARD. Never. 
 
 Miss NEV. He's a very singular character, I assure 
 you. Among women of reputation and virtue, he is 
 the modestest man alive ; but his acquaintance give 
 him a very different character among creatures of 
 another stamp : you understand me. 
 
 Miss HARD. An odd character, indeed. I shall never 
 be able to manage him. What shall I do ? Pshaw, 
 think no more of him, but trust to occurrences for 
 success. But how goes on your own affair, my 
 dear? Has my mother been courting you for my 
 brother Tony, as usual ? 
 
 Miss NEV. I have just come from one of our agreeable 
 tte-a-ttes. She has been saying a hundred tender 
 things, and setting off her pretty monster as the very 
 pink of perfection. 
 
 Miss HARD. And her partiality is such, that she 
 actually thinks him so. A fortune like yours is no 
 small temptation. Besides, as she has the sole 
 
She Stoops to Conquer [ACT i. 
 
 management of it, I 'm not surprised to see her 
 unwilling to let it go out of the family. 
 
 Miss NEV. A fortune like mine, which chiefly consists 
 in jewels, is no such mighty temptation. But at any 
 rate, if my dear Hastings be but constant, I make no 
 doubt to be too hard for her at last. However, I let 
 her suppose that I am in love with her son, and she 
 never once dreams that my affections are fixed upon 
 another. 
 
 Miss HARD. My good brother holds out stoutly. I 
 could almost love him for hating you so. 
 
 Miss NEV. It is a good-natured creature at bottom, 
 and I 'm sure would wish to see me married to any- 
 body but himself. But my aunt's bell rings for our 
 afternoon's walk round the improvements. Allans / 
 Courage is necessary, as our affairs are critical. 
 
 Miss HARD. Would it were bed-time, and all were 
 well. \Exeunt. 
 
SCENE II 
 
 An ale-house room. Several shabby Fellows, with 
 punch and tobacco. TONY at the head of the table, 
 a little higher than the rest ; a mallet in his hand. 
 
 OMNES. Hurrea, hurrea, hurrea, bravo ! 
 
 i FEL. Now, gentlemen, silence for a song. The 
 
 'squire is going to knock himself down for a song. 
 OMNES. Ay, a song, a song ! 
 TONY. Then I '11 sing you, gentlemen, a song I made 
 
 upon this ale-house, the Three Pigeons. 
 
 SONG. 
 
 Let schoolmasters puzzle their brain, 
 
 With grammar, and nonsense, and learning ; 
 Good liquor, I stoutly maintain, 
 
 Gives genus a better discerning. 
 Let them brag of their heathenish gods, 
 
 Their Lethes, their Styxes, and Stygians ; 
 Their quis, and their quces, and their quods, 
 
 They 're all but a parcel of pigeons. 
 
 Toroddle, toroddle, toroll. 
 
 When Methodist preachers come down, 
 
 A-preaching that drinking is sinful, 
 I '11 wager the rascals a crown, 
 
 They always preach best with a skin-full. 
 
 E 33 
 
s z'a e<zA ///TZ S//T^, bekeays fie neoer 
 gioes us nothing that s low. 
 
sc. ii.] She Stoops to Conquer 
 
 But when you come down with your pence, 
 
 For a slice of their scurvy religion, 
 I '11 leave it to all men of sense, 
 
 But you, my good friend, are the pigeon. 
 
 Toroddle, toroddle, toroll. 
 
 Then come, put the jorum about, 
 
 And let us be merry and clever ; 
 Our hearts and our liquors are stout, 
 
 Here's the Three Jolly Pigeons for ever! 
 Let some cry up woodcock or hare, 
 
 Your bustards, your ducks, and your widgeons, 
 But of all the birds in the air, 
 
 Here's a health to the Three Jolly Pigeons. 
 
 Toroddle, toroddle, toroll. 
 
 OMNES. Bravo! bravo! 
 
 1 FEL. The 'squire has got spunk in him. 
 
 2 FEL. I loves to hear him sing, bekeays he never 
 gives us nothing that 's low. 
 
 3 FEL. Oh, nothing that's low, I cannot bear it. 
 
 4 FEL. The genteel thing is the genteel thing any 
 time. If so be that a gentleman bees in a concatena- 
 tion accordingly. 
 
 3 FEL. I like the maxum of it, Master Muggins. 
 What though I am obligated to dance a bear ? A 
 man may be a gentleman for all that. May this be 
 my poison, if my bear ever dances but to the very 
 genteelest of tunes ; ' Water parted,' or ' The minuet 
 in Ariadne.' 
 
 2 FEL. What a pity it is the 'squire is not come to his 
 own I It would be well for all the publicans within 
 ten miles round of him. 
 
 37 
 
She Stoops to Conquer [ACT i. 
 
 TONY. Ecod, and so it would, Master Slang. I 'd 
 then show what it was to keep choice of company. 
 
 2 FEL. Oh, he takes after his own father for that. To 
 be sure, old 'squire Lumpkin was the finest gentle- 
 man I ever set my eyes on. For winding the 
 straight horn, or beating a thicket for a hare, he 
 never had his fellow. It was a saying in the place, 
 that he kept the best horses and dogs in the whole 
 county. 
 
 TONY. Ecod, and when I 'm of age I '11 be my father's 
 son, I promise you ! I have been thinking of Bet 
 Bouncer, and the miller's grey mare to begin with. 
 But come, my boys, drink about and be merry, for 
 you pay no reckoning. Well, Stingo, what's the 
 matter ? 
 
 Enter LANDLORD. 
 
 LAND. There be two gentlemen in a post-chaise at the 
 door. They have lost their way upo' the forest ; and 
 they are talking something about Mr. Hardcastle. 
 
 TONY. As sure as can be, one of them must be the 
 gentleman that's coming down to court my sister. 
 Do they seem to be Londoners ? 
 
 LAND. I believe they may. They look woundily like 
 Frenchmen. 
 
 TONY. Then desire them to step this way, and I '11 
 set them right in a twinkling. {Exit LANDLORD.] 
 Gentlemen, as they mayn't be good enough company 
 for you, step down for a moment, and I '11 be with 
 you in the squeezing of a lemon. \Exeunt mob. 
 
 38 
 
sc. ii.] She Stoops to Conquer 
 
 TONY, solus. 
 
 TONY. Father-in-law has been calling me whelp, and 
 hound, this half-year. Now, if I pleased, I could be 
 so revenged upon the old grumbletonian. But then 
 I 'm afraid afraid of what ? I shall soon be worth 
 fifteen hundred a year, and let him frighten me out 
 of that if he can. 
 
 Enter LANDLORD conducting MARLOW 
 and HASTINGS. 
 
 MARL. What a tedious uncomfortable day have we 
 had of it! We were told it was but forty miles 
 across the country, and we have come above three- 
 score. 
 
 HAST. And all, Marlow, from that unaccountable 
 reserve of yours, that would not let us inquire more 
 frequently on the way. 
 
 MARL. I own, Hastings, I am unwilling to lay myself 
 under an obligation to every one I meet : and often 
 stand the chance of an unmannerly answer. 
 
 HAST. At present, however, we are not likely to 
 receive any answer. 
 
 TONY. No offence, gentlemen ; but I 'm told you 
 have been inquiring for one Mr. Hardcastle, in 
 these parts. Do you know what part of the country 
 you are in ? 
 
 HAST. Not in the least, sir ; but should thank you for 
 information. 
 
 TONY. Nor the way you came ? 
 
 39 
 
She Stoops to Conquer [ACT i. 
 
 HAST. No, sir ; but if you can inform us 
 
 TONY. Why, gentlemen, if you know neither the road 
 
 you are going, nor where you are, nor the road you 
 
 came, the first thing I have to inform you, is, that 
 
 you have lost your way. 
 MARL. We wanted no ghost to tell us that. 
 TONY. Pray, gentlemen, may I be so bold as to ask the 
 
 place from whence you came ? 
 MARL. That 's not necessary towards directing us where 
 
 we are to go. 
 TONY. No offence ; but question for question is all 
 
 fair, you know. Pray, gentlemen, is not this same 
 
 Hardcastle a cross-grained, old-fashioned, whimsical 
 
 fellow with an ugly face; a daughter, and a pretty 
 
 son? 
 HAST. We have not seen the gentleman ; but he has 
 
 the family you mention. 
 TONY. The daughter, a tall, trapesing, trolloping, 
 
 talkative May-pole. The son, a pretty, well-bred, 
 
 agreeable youth, that everybody is fond of. 
 MARL. Our information differs in this. The daughter 
 
 is said to be well-bred and beautiful ; the son an 
 
 awkward booby, reared up, and spoiled at his 
 
 mother's apron-string. 
 TONY. He-he-hem 1 Then, gentlemen, all I have to 
 
 tell you is, that you won't reach Mr. Hardcastle's 
 
 house this night, I believe. 
 HAST. Unfortunate! 
 TONY. It 's a long, dark, boggy, dirty, dangerous way. 
 
 Stingo, tell the gentlemen the way to Mr. Hard- 
 40 
 
QJrn 
 
 6een. 
 
 c jar 
 
 one 
 
 castle's [winking upon the landlord} ; Mr. Hard- 
 castle's of Quagmire Marsh ; you understand me. 
 LAND. Master Hardcastle's? Lack-a-daisy, my masters, 
 you 're come a deadly deal wrong ! When you came 
 F 41 
 
She Stoops to Conquer [ACT i. 
 
 to the bottom of the hill, you should have crossed 
 down Squash Lane. 
 
 MARL. Cross down Squash Lane ? 
 
 LAND. Then you were to keep straight forward, till 
 you came to four roads. 
 
 MARL. Come to where four roads meet ! 
 
 TONY. Ay ; but you must be sure to take only one 
 of them. 
 
 MARL. Oh, sir, you 're facetious. 
 
 TONY. Then keeping to the right, you are to go side- 
 ways till you come upon Crack-skull Common : there 
 you must look sharp for the track of the wheel, and 
 go forward, till you come to farmer Murrain's barn. 
 Coming to the farmer's barn, you are to turn to the 
 right, and then to the left, and then to the right-about 
 again, till you find out the old mill 
 
 MARL. Zounds, man ! we could as soon find out the 
 longitude ! 
 
 HAST. What 's to be done, Marlow ? 
 
 MARL. This house promises but a poor reception ; 
 though perhaps the landlord can accommodate us. 
 
 LAND. Alack ! master, we have but one spare bed in 
 the whole house. 
 
 TONY. And, to my knowledge, that's taken up by three 
 lodgers already. \After a pause, in which the rest 
 seem disconcerted^ I have hit it. Don't you think, 
 Stingo, our landlady would accommodate the gentle- 
 men by the fire-side, with three chairs and a bolster? 
 
 HAST. I hate sleeping by the fire-side. 
 
 MARL. And I detest your three chairs and a bolster. 
 42 
 
u 
 
 yoa 
 
 C/ 
 
 7nem f 
 
 xo <3/ 
 
 , 6e\/occ ? 
 
 o uoar 
 
 <3/ -CX 
 
 TONY. You do, do you ? Then let me see what if you 
 go on a mile further, to the Buck's Head ; the old 
 Buck's Head on the hill, one of the best inns in the 
 whole county ? 
 
 HAST. Oh, ho ! so we have escaped an adventure for 
 this night, however. 
 
 LAND. \Apart to TONY.] Sure, you ben't sending them 
 to your father's as an inn, be you ? 
 
 43 
 
J~ 
 
 TONY. Mum, you fool you ! Let /^w find that out. 
 [To them^\ You have only to keep on straight 
 forward, till you come to a large old house by the 
 road-side. You '11 see a pair of large horns over the 
 door. That's the sign. Drive up the yard, and 
 call stoutly about you. 
 
 HAST. Sir, we are obliged to you. The servants can't 
 miss the way. 
 
 TONY. No, no. But I tell you, though, the landlord 
 
 44 
 
sc. IL] She Stoops to Conquer 
 
 is rich and going to leave off business ; so he wants 
 to be thought a gentleman, saving your presence, 
 he ! he ! he ! He '11 be for giving you his company, 
 and ecod, if you mind him, he '11 persuade you that 
 his mother was an alderman, and his aunt a justice 
 of peace. 
 
 LAND. A troublesome old blade, to be sure ; but a keeps 
 as good wines and beds as any in the whole country. 
 
 MARL. Well, if he supplies us with these, we shall 
 want no further connection. We are to turn to the 
 right, did you say? 
 
 TONY. No, no ; straight forward. I '11 just step myself, 
 and show you a piece of the way. [To the LANDLORD.] 
 Mum. 
 
 LAND. Ah, you are a sweet, pleasant mischievous 
 humbug. , \Exeunt. 
 
 \ 
 
r 
 
 SCENE I 
 
 An old-fashioned house. 
 
 Enter HARDCASTLE, followed by three or four 
 awkward Servants. 
 
 HARD. Well, I hope you 're perfect in the table exercise 
 I have been teaching you these three days. You 
 all know your posts and your places ; and can show 
 that you have been used to company, without ever 
 stirring from home. 
 
 OMNES. Ay, ay. 
 
 HARD. When company comes, you are not to pop out 
 and stare, and then run in again, like frighted rabbits 
 in a warren. 
 
 OMNES. No, no. 
 
 HARD. You, Diggory, whom I have taken from the 
 barn, are to make a show at the side-table : and you, 
 Roger, whom I have advanced from the plough, are 
 to place yourself behind my chair. But you 're not 
 to stand so, with your hands in your pockets. Take 
 your hands from your pockets, Roger ; and from 
 your head, you blockhead you. See how Diggory 
 carries his hands. They 're a little too stiff, indeed, 
 but that 's no great matter. 
 
 G 49 
 
Jhen, ecod, your worship musi not tell the story 
 of Uld Arouse in the gun-room. 
 
 ACT 2 SCENE 1. 
 
sc i-] She Stoops to Conquer 
 
 DIGG. Ay ; mind how I hold them. I learned to hold 
 my hands this way, when I was upon drill for the 
 militia. And so being upon drill 
 
 HARD. You must not be so talkative, Diggory. You 
 must be all attention to the guests. You must hear 
 us talk, and not think of talking ; you must see us 
 drink, and not think of drinking ; you must see us 
 eat, and not think of eating. 
 
 DIGG. By the laws, your worship, that's parfectly 
 unpossible. Whenever Diggory sees yeating going 
 forward, ecod, he's always wishing for a mouthful 
 himself. 
 
 HARD. Blockhead ! is not a belly-full in the kitchen as 
 good as a belly-full in the parlour? Stay your 
 stomach with that reflection. 
 
 DIGG. Ecod, I thank your worship, I '11 make a shift 
 to stay my stomach with a slice of cold beef in the 
 pantry. 
 
 HARD. Diggory, you are too talkative. Then if I 
 happen to say a good thing, or tell a good story at 
 table, you must not all burst out a-laughing, as if 
 you made part of the company. 
 
 DIGG. Then, ecod, your worship must not tell the story 
 of Old Grouse in the gun-room : I can't help laugh- 
 ing at that he ! he ! he ! for the soul of me. We 
 have laughed at that these twenty years ha ! ha ! ha ! 
 
 HARD. Ha ! ha ! ha ! The story is a good one. 
 Well, honest Diggory, you may laugh at that 
 but still remember to be attentive. Suppose one 
 of the company should call for a glass of wine, how 
 
 53 
 
She Stoops to Conquer [ACT n. 
 
 will you behave? A glass of wine, sir, if you 
 
 please. [To DIGGORY.] Eh, why don't you move? 
 DIGG. Ecod, your worship, I never have courage till I 
 
 see the eatables and drinkables brought upon the 
 
 table, and then I 'm as bauld as a lion. 
 HARD. What, will nobody move ? 
 
 1 SERV. I 'm not to leave this pleace. 
 
 2 SERV. I 'm sure it 's no pleace of mine. 
 
 3 SERV. Nor mine, for sartain. 
 
 DIGG. Wauns, and I 'm sure it canna be mine. 
 
 HARD. You numskulls ! *and so while, like your betters, 
 you are quarrelling for places, the guests must be 
 starved. vv Oh, you dunces ! I find I must begin all 
 over again. But don't I hear a coach drive into the 
 yard ? To your posts, you blockheads ! I '11 go in 
 the meantime, and give my old friend's son a hearty 
 reception at the gate. {Exit HARDCASTLE. 
 
 DIGG. By the elevens, my pleace is gone quite out of 
 my head. 
 
 ROGER. I know that my pleace is to be everywhere. 
 
 1 SERV. Where is mine? 
 
 2 SERV. My pleace is to be nowhere at all ; and so I 'ze 
 go about my business. \Exeitnt Servants, running 
 about as if frightened, different ways.} 
 
 Enter Servant with candles, showing in MARLOW 
 and HASTINGS. 
 
 SERV. Welcome, gentlemen, very welcome. This 
 way. 
 
 54 
 
sc. i.] She Stoops to Conquer 
 
 HAST. After the disappointments of the day, welcome 
 once more, Charles, to the comforts of a clean room, 
 and a good fire. Upon my word, a very well-looking 
 house ; antique, but creditable. 
 
 MARL. The usual fate of a large mansion. Having 
 first ruined the master by good housekeeping, it at 
 last comes to levy contributions as an inn. 
 
 HAST. As you say, we passengers are to be taxed 
 to pay all these fineries. I have often seen a good 
 sideboard, or a marble chimney-piece, though not 
 actually put in the bill, inflame a reckoning con- 
 foundedly. 
 
 MARL. Travellers, George, must pay in all places. 
 The only difference is, that in good inns you pay 
 dearly for luxuries ; in bad inns you are fleeced and 
 starved. 
 
 HAST. You have lived very much among them. In 
 truth, I have been often surprised, that you, who 
 have seen so much of the world, with your natural 
 good sense, and your many opportunities, could 
 never yet acquire a requisj^shaj^^f^as^urance. 
 
 MARL. The Englishman's malady. But tell me, 
 George, where could I have learned that assurance 
 you jalk_of ? My life has been chiefly spent in a 
 college^^cr an inn ; in seclusioi^roin__that lovely: 
 part of the creation that chiefly teach _men cojv- 
 fidence. I don't know that I was ever familiarly 
 acquainted with a single modest woman except my 
 mother. 
 HAST. In the company of women of reputation, I 
 
 55 
 
She Stoops to Conquer [ACT n. 
 
 never saw such an idiot, such a trembler : you look, 
 for all the world, as if you wanted an opportunity of 
 stealing out of the room. 
 
 MARL. Why, man, that 's because I do want to steal 
 out of the room ! I have often formed a resolution 
 to break the ice, and rattle away at any rate. But 
 I don't know how, a single glance from a pair of 
 fine eyes has totally overset my resolution. An 
 impudent fellow may counterfeit modesty ; but I '11 
 be hanged if a modest man can ever counterfeit 
 impudence. 
 
 HAST. If you could but say half the things to 
 them that I have heard you lavish upon the barmaid 
 of an inn. 
 
 MARL. Why, George, I can't say fine things to them. 
 They freeze, they petrify me. They may talk of 
 a comet, or a burning mountain, or some such 
 bagatelle : 'tut to me, a modest woman, drest out in 
 all her finery, is the most tremendous object of the 
 whole creation. l * 
 
 HAST. Ha ! ha ! ha ! At this rate, man, how can you 
 ever expect to marry ? 
 
 MARL. Never, unless, as among kings and princes, 
 my bride were to be courted by proxy. If, indeed, 
 like an Eastern bridegroom, one were to be intro- 
 duced to a wife he never saw before, it might be 
 endured. But to go through all the terrors of a 
 formal courtship, together with the episode of aunts, 
 grandmothers, and cousins, and at last to blurt out 
 the broad-star question of Madam, will you marry 
 
 56 
 
sc i.] She Stoops to Conquer 
 
 me? No, no; that's a strain much above me, I 
 assure you. 
 
 HAST. I pity you. But how do you intend behaving 
 to the lady you are come down to visit at the request 
 of your father ? 
 
 MARL. As I behave to all other ladies : bow very low ; 
 answer yes, or no, to all her demands. But for the 
 rest, I don't think I shall venture to look in her face, 
 till I see my father's again. 
 
 HAST. I am surprised that one who is so warm a 
 friend can be so cool a lover. 
 
 MARL. To be explicit, my dear Hastings, my chief 
 inducement down was to be instrumental in for- 
 warding your happiness, not my own. Miss Neville 
 loves you ; the family don't know you ; as my friend 
 you are sure of a reception, and let honour do 
 the rest. 
 
 HAST. My dear Marlow ! But I '11 suppress the 
 emotion. Were I a wretch, meanly seeking to carry 
 off a fortune, you should be the last man in the world 
 I would apply to for assistance. But Miss Neville's 
 person is all I ask ; and that is mine, both from her 
 deceased father's consent, and her own inclination. 
 
 MARL. Happy man ! You have talents and art to 
 captivate any woman. I am doomed to adore the 
 sex, and yet to converse with the only part of it I 
 despise. This stammer in my address, and this 
 awkward prepossessing visage of mine, can never 
 permit me to soar Pshaw ! this fellow here to 
 interrupt us. 
 
 H 57 
 
She Stoops to Conquer [ACT n. 
 
 Enter HARDCASTLE. 
 
 HARD. Gentlemen, once more you are heartily wel- 
 come. Which is Mr. Marlow? Sir, you 're heartily 
 welcome. It 's not my way, you see, to receive my 
 friends with my back to the fire. I like to give 
 them a hearty reception, in the old style, at my 
 gate. I like to see their horses and trunks taken 
 care of. 
 
 MARL. \Aside^\ He has got our names from the 
 servants already. [To him.] We approve your 
 caution and hospitality, sir. [70 HASTINGS.] I have 
 been thinking, George, of changing our travelling 
 dresses in the morning. I am grown confoundedly 
 ashamed of mine. 
 
 HARD. I beg, Mr. Marlow, you '11 use no ceremony in 
 this house. 
 
 HAST. I fancy, Charles, you 're right : the first blow 
 is half the battle. I intend opening the campaign 
 with the white and gold. 
 
 HARD. Mr. Marlow Mr. Hastings gentlemen pray 
 be under no restraint in this house. This is Liberty 
 Hall, gentlemen. You may do just as you please 
 here. 
 
 MARL. Yet, George, if we open the campaign too 
 fiercely at first, we may want ammunition before it is 
 over. I think to reserve the embroidery to secure 
 a retreat. 
 
 HARD. Your talking of a retreat, Mr. Marlow, puts 
 me in mind of the Duke of Marlborough, when he 
 
 58 
 
sc - i-] She Stoops to Conquer 
 
 went to besiege Denain. He first summoned the 
 garrison 
 
 MARL. Don't you think the venire d'or waistcoat will 
 do with the plain brown ? 
 
 HARD. He first summoned the garrison, which might 
 consist of about five thousand men 
 
 HAST. I think not : brown and yellow mix but very 
 poorly. 
 
 HARD. I say, gentlemen, as I was telling you, he 
 summoned the garrison, which might consist of 
 about five thousand men 
 
 MARL. The girls like finery. 
 
 HARD. Which might consist of about five thousand 
 men, well appointed with stores, ammunition, and 
 other implements of war. Now, says the Duke of 
 Marlborough to George Brooks, that stood next to 
 him you must have heard of George Brooks ' I '11 
 pawn my dukedom,' says he, ' but I '11 take that 
 garrison, without spilling a drop of blood.' So 
 
 MARL. What, my good friend, if you gave us a glass 
 of punch in the meantime? It would help us to 
 carry on the siege with vigour. 
 
 HARD. Punch, sir! [si side.} This is the most un- 
 accountable kind of modesty I ever met with. 
 
 MARL. Yes, sir, punch. A glass of warm punch, after 
 our journey, will be comfortable. This is Liberty 
 Hall, you know. 
 
 HARD. Here 's a cup, sir. 
 
 MARL. [^4 side] So this fellow, in his Liberty Hall, 
 will only let us have just what he pleases. 
 
 59 
 
J'lulf the differences of the parish, are adjusted 
 in this oery parlour. 
 
 ACT 2. SCENE 1 
 
sc. L] She Stilus ft Conquer 
 
 HARD. [Taking the cup] I hope you'll find it to your 
 mind. I have prepared it with my own hands, and 
 I believe you'll own the ingredients are tolerable. 
 Will you be so good as to pledge me, sir? Here, 
 Mr. Marlow, here is to our better acquaintance. 
 [Drinks.] 
 
 MARL. [Aside] A very impudent fellow this ! But he 's 
 a character, and I '11 humour him a little. [To him] 
 Sir, my service to you. [Drinks. ~\ 
 
 HAST. [Aside^] I see this fellow wants to give us his 
 company, and forgets that he 's an innkeeper, before 
 he has learned to be a gentleman. 
 
 MARL. From the excellence of your cup, my old friend, 
 I suppose you have a good deal of business in this 
 part of the country. Warm work, now and then, at 
 elections, I suppose. 
 
 HARD. No, sir, I have long given that work over. 
 
 \\Since our betters have hit upon the expedient of 
 electing each other, there 's no business for us that 
 sell ale^ 
 
 HAST. So, then, you have no turn for politics, I find. 
 
 HARD. Not in the least. There was a time, indeed, 
 I fretted myself about the mistakes of Government, 
 like other people : but, finding myself every day grow 
 more angry, and the Government growing no better, 
 I left it to mend itself. Since that, I no more 
 trouble my head about Hyder Ally, or Ally Cawn, 
 than about Ally Croker. Sir, my service to you. 
 
 HAST. So that with eating above stairs, and drinking 
 below ; with receiving your friends within, and 
 
 63 
 
She Stoops to Conquer [ACT n. 
 
 amusing them without, you lead a good, pleasant, 
 
 bustling life of it. 
 HARD. I do stir about a great deal, that's certain. 
 
 Half the differences of the parish are adjusted in this 
 
 very parlour. 
 MARL. [After drinking.] And you have an argument 
 
 in your cup, old gentleman, better than any in 
 
 Westminster Hall. 
 HARD. Ay, young gentleman, that, and a little 
 
 philosophy. 
 MARL. [Aside.] Well, this is the first time I ever 
 
 heard of an innkeeper's philosophy. 
 HAST. So, then, like an experienced general, you attack 
 
 them on every quarter. If you find their reason 
 
 manageable, you attack it with your philosophy ; if 
 
 you find they have no reason, you attack them with 
 
 this. Here 's your health, my philosopher. 
 
 [Drinks] 
 HARD. Good, very good, thank you ; ha 1 ha ! Your 
 
 generalship puts me in mind of Prince Eugene, 
 
 when he fought the Turks at the battle of Belgrade. 
 
 You shall hear. 
 MARL. Instead of the battle of Belgrade, I think it's 
 
 almost time to talk about supper. What has your 
 
 philosophy got in the house for supper? 
 HARD. For supper, sir ! [Aside.] Was ever such a 
 
 request to a man in his own house ? 
 MARL. Yes, sir ; supper, sir : I begin to feel an 
 
 appetite. I shall make sad work to-night in the 
 
 larder, I promise you. 
 
sc. i.] She Stoops to Conquer 
 
 HARD. \Aside^\ Such a brazen dog sure never my 
 eyes beheld. [To him^\ Why, really, sir, as for 
 supper, I can't well tell. My Dorothy and the cook- 
 maid settle these things between them. I leave 
 these kind of things entirely to them. 
 
 MARL. You do, do you ? 
 
 HARD. Entirely. By the bye, I believe they are in 
 actual consultation, upon what's for supper, this 
 moment in the kitchen. 
 
 MARL. Then I beg they'll admit me as one of their 
 privy council. It's a way I have got. When I 
 travel, I always choose to regulate my own supper. 
 Let the cook be called. No offence, I hope, sir. 
 
 HARD. Oh no, sir, none in the least ; yet I don't 
 know how, our Bridget, the cook-maid, is not 
 very communicative upon these occasions. Should 
 we send for her, she might scold us all out of the 
 house. 
 
 HAST. Let 's see the list of the larder, then. I ask it 
 as a favour. I always march my appetite to my bill 
 of fare. 
 
 MARL. [To HARDCASTLE, who looks at them with 
 surprisel\ Sir, he's very right, and it's my way 
 too. 
 
 HARD. Sir, you have a right to command here. Here, 
 Roger, bring us the bill of fare for to-night's supper. 
 I believe it's drawn out. Your manner, Mr. 
 Hastings, puts me in mind of my uncle, Colonel 
 Wallop. It was a saying of his, that no man was 
 sure of his supper till he had eaten it. 
 
z/tem, a pork pie, a boiled rabbit and sausages, 
 and a disk of ti/f-taff-taffety cream! 
 
sc. i.] She Stoops to Conquer 
 
 HAST. \Aside^\ All upon the high ropes ! His uncle 
 a colonel ! We shall soon hear of his mother 
 being a justice of the peace. But let's hear the bill 
 of fare. 
 
 MARL. [Perusing.] What 's here ? For the first 
 course ; for the second course ; for the dessert. Sir, 
 do you think we have brought down the whole 
 Joiners' company, or the corporation of Bedford, to 
 eat up such a supper? Two or three little things, 
 clean and comfortable, will do. 
 
 HAST. But let's hear it. 
 
 MARL. [Reading.] For the first course at the top, a pig 
 and prune sauce. 
 
 HAST. I hate your pig, I say. 
 
 MARL. And I hate your prune sauce, say I. 
 
 HARD. And yet, gentlemen, to men that are hungry, 
 pig, with prune sauce, is very good eating. 
 
 MARL. At the bottom, a calf's tongue and brains. 
 
 HAST. Let your brains be knocked out, my good sir ; 
 I don't like them. 
 
 MARL. Or you may clap them on a plate by them- 
 selves. I do. 
 
 HARD. \Aside^\ Their impudence confounds me. [To 
 them.] Gentlemen, you are my guests, make what 
 alterations you please. Is there anything else you 
 wish to retrench or alter, gentlemen ? 
 
 MARL. Item, a pork pie, a boiled rabbit and sausages, 
 a florentine, a shaking pudding, and a dish of tiff- 
 taff-taffety cream ! 
 
 HAST. Confound your made dishes I I shall be as 
 
 69 
 
She Stoops to Conquer [ACT n. 
 
 much at a loss in this house as at a green and yellow 
 
 dinner at the French ambassador's table. I 'm for 
 
 plain eating. 
 HARD. I 'm sorry, gentlemen, that I have nothing you 
 
 like ; but if there be anything you have a particular 
 
 fancy to 
 
 MARL. Why, sir, your bill of fare is so exquisite, that 
 
 any one part of it is full as good as another. Send 
 
 us what you please. So much for supper : and now 
 
 to see that our beds are aired and properly taken 
 
 care of. 
 HARD. I entreat you'll leave all that to me. You 
 
 shall not stir a step. 
 MARL. Leave that to you ? I protest, sir, you must 
 
 excuse me ; I always look to these things myself. 
 HARD. I must insist, sir, you '11 make yourself easy on 
 
 that head. 
 MARL. You see I 'm resolved on it. [Aside.] A very 
 
 troublesome fellow this, as ever I met with. 
 HARD. Well, sir, I 'm resolved at least to attend 
 
 you. \AsideI\ This may be modern modesty, but 
 
 I never saw anything look so like old-fashioned 
 
 impudence. \Exeunt MARL, and HARD. 
 
 HASTINGS, solus. 
 
 HAST. So I find, this fellow's civilities begin to grow 
 troublesome. But who can be angry at these 
 assiduities, which are meant to please him ? Ha ! 
 what do I see ? Miss Neville, by all that 's happy ! 
 
 70 
 
sc - 1-] She Stoops to Conquer 
 
 Enter Miss NEVILLE. 
 
 Miss NEV. My dear Hastings 1 To what unexpected 
 good fortune, to what accident, am I to ascribe this 
 happy meeting ? 
 
 HAST. Rather, let me ask the same question, as I 
 could never have hoped to meet my dear Constance 
 at an inn. 
 
 Miss NEV. An inn ! surely you mistake ! my aunt, my 
 guardian, lives here. What could induce you to 
 think this house an inn? 
 
 HAST. My friend, Mr. Marlow, with whom I came 
 down, and I, have been sent here as to an inn, I 
 assure you. A young fellow, whom we accidentally 
 met at a house hard by, directed us hither. 
 
 Miss NEV. Certainly it must be one of my hopeful 
 cousin's tricks, of whom you have heard me talk so 
 often, ha ! ha ! ha ! ha ! 
 
 HAST. He whom your aunt intends for you ? He of 
 whom I have such just apprehensions ? 
 
 Miss NEV. You have nothing to fear from him, I 
 assure you. You 'd adore him, if you knew how 
 heartily he despises me. My aunt knows it too, and 
 has undertaken to court me for him ; and actually 
 begins to think she has made a conquest. 
 
 HAST. Thou dear dissembler! You must know, my 
 Constance, I have just seized this happy opportunity 
 of my friend's visit here, to get admittance into the 
 family. The horses that carried us down are now 
 fatigued with their journey ; but they '11 soon be 
 
C 
 
 3 
 
 TO 
 
 P>r5> 
 
 -A^ 
 
 fitofi 
 
 ss yieoille, 6y all that' s happy! 
 
 ACT 2. SCENE I 
 
sc. i.] She Stoops to Conquer 
 
 refreshed ; and then, if my dearest girl will trust in 
 her faithful Hastings, we shall soon be landed in 
 France; where, even among slaves, the laws of 
 marriage are respected. 
 
 Miss NEV. I have often told you, that though ready 
 to obey you, I yet should leave my little fortune 
 behind with reluctance. The greatest part of it was 
 left me by my uncle, the India director, and chiefly 
 consists in jewels. I have been for some time 
 persuading my aunt to let me wear them. I fancy I 
 am very near succeeding. The instant they are put 
 into my possession, you shall find me ready to make 
 them and myself yours. 
 
 HAST. Perish the baubles! Your person is all I 
 desire. In the meantime, my friend Marlow must 
 not be let into his mistake ; I know the strange 
 reserve of his temper is such, that if abruptly 
 informed of it, he would instantly quit the house, 
 before our plan was ripe for execution. 
 
 Miss NEV. But how shall we keep him in the decep- 
 tion? Miss Hardcastle is just returned from 
 walking ; what if we still continue to deceive him ? 
 This, this way [They confer. 
 
 Enter MARLOW. 
 
 MARL. The assiduities of these good people tease me 
 beyond bearing. My host seems to think it ill 
 manners to leave me alone, and so he claps not only 
 himself, but his old-fashioned wife on my back. 
 
 75 
 
She Stoops to Conquer [ACT n. 
 
 They talk of coming to sup with us too ; and then, I 
 suppose, we are to run the gauntlet through all the 
 rest of the family. What have we got here ? 
 
 HAST. My dear Charles ! Let me congratulate you ! 
 The most fortunate accident I Who do you think is 
 just alighted ? 
 
 MARL. Cannot guess. 
 
 HAST. Our mistresses, boy, Miss Hardcastle and Miss 
 Neville. Give me leave to introduce Miss Con- 
 stance Neville to your acquaintance. Happening 
 to dine in the neighbourhood, they called, on their 
 return, to take fresh horses here. Miss Hardcastle 
 has just stepped into the next room, and will be 
 back in an instant. Wasn't it lucky, eh ? 
 
 MARL. \A 'side.] I have just been mortified enough, of 
 all conscience, and here comes something to com- 
 plete my embarrassment. 
 
 HAST. Well, but wasn't it the most fortunate thing in 
 the world ? 
 
 MARL. Oh ! yes. Very fortunate a most joyful 
 encounter. But our dresses, George, you know, are 
 in disorder. What if we should postpone the 
 happiness till to-morrow? To-morrow, at her own 
 house ; it will be every bit as convenient, and rather 
 more respectful. To-morrow let it be. 
 
 [Offering to go. 
 
 Miss NEV. By no means, sir. Your ceremony will dis- 
 please her. The disorder of your dress will show the 
 ardour of your impatience ; besides, she knows you 
 are in the house, and will permit you to see her. 
 
sc - 1-] She Stoops to Conquer 
 
 MARL. Oh! how shall I support it? Hem! hem! 
 
 Hastings, you must not go. You are to assist me, 
 
 you know. I shall be confoundedly ridiculous. Yet 
 
 hang it ! I '11 take courage. Hem ! 
 HAST. Pshaw, man ! it 's but the first plunge, and all 's 
 
 over. She 's but a woman, you know. 
 MARL. And of all women, she that I dread most to 
 
 encounter. 
 
 Enter Miss HARDCASTLE as returning from 
 walking, in a bonnet, etc. 
 
 HAST. {Introducing him.] Miss Hardcastle Mr. 
 Marlow. I 'm proud of bringing two persons of 
 such merit together, that only want to know, to 
 esteem each other. 
 
 Miss HARD. [Aside.] Now, for meeting my modest 
 gentleman with a demure face, and quite in his own 
 manner. \After a pause, in which he appears 'very 
 uneasy and disconcerted] I 'm glad of your safe 
 arrival, sir. I'm told you had some accidents by 
 the way. 
 
 MARL. Only a few, madam. Yes, we had some. Yes, 
 madam, a good many accidents ; but should be sorry 
 madam or rather glad of any accidents that are 
 so agreeably concluded. Hem ! 
 
 HAST. [To him] You never spoke better in your 
 whole life. Keep it up, and I'll ensure you the 
 victory. 
 
 Miss HARD. I'm afraid you flatter, sir. You, that 
 
 77 
 
(I 
 
sc. i.] She Stoops to Conquer 
 
 have seen so much of the finest company, can 
 find little entertainment in an obscure corner of the 
 country. 
 
 MARL. [Gathering courage.] I have lived, indeed, in 
 the world, madam ; but I have kept very little 
 company. I have been but an observer upon life, 
 madam, while others were enjoying it. 
 
 Miss NEV. But that, I am told, is the way to enjoy 
 it at last. 
 
 HAST. [To him.] Cicero never spoke better. Once 
 more, and you are confirmed in assurance for ever. 
 
 MARL. [To him.] Hem! Stand by me, then; and 
 when I 'm down, throw in a word or two, to set me 
 up again. 
 
 Miss HARD. An observer, like you, upon life, were, I 
 fear, disagreeably employed, since you must have 
 had much more to censure than to approve. 
 
 MARL. Pardon me, madam. I was always willing to 
 be amused. The folly of most people is rather an 
 object of mirth than uneasiness. 
 
 HAST. [To him] Bravo, bravo ! Never spoke so well 
 in your whole life. Well! [To Miss HARD.] 
 Miss Hardcastle, I see that you and Mr. Marlow are 
 going to be very good company. I believe our 
 being here will but embarrass the interview. 
 
 MARL. Not in the least, Mr. Hastings. We like your 
 company of all things. [To him] Zounds ! George, 
 sure you won't go how can you leave us ? 
 
 HAST. Our presence will but spoil conversation, so 
 we'll retire to the next room. [To him] You don't 
 L 81 
 
She Stoops to Conquer [ACT n. 
 
 consider, man, that we are to manage a little tte-a- 
 
 tete of our own. [Exeunt. 
 
 Miss HARD. {.After a pause.] But you have not 
 
 been wholly an observer, I presume, sir : the ladies, 
 
 I should hope, have employed some part of your 
 
 addresses. 
 MARL. {Relapsing into timidity '.] Pardon me, madam, 
 
 I I I as yet have studied only to deserve 
 
 them. 
 Miss HARD. And that, some say, is the very worst 
 
 way to obtain them. 
 MARL. Perhaps so, madam. But I love to converse 
 
 only with the more grave and sensible part of the 
 
 sex. But I 'm afraid I grow tiresome. 
 Miss HARD. Not at all, sir ; there is nothing I like so 
 
 much as grave conversation myself. I could hear it 
 
 for ever. Indeed, I have often been surprised how 
 
 a man of sentiment could ever admire those light, 
 
 airy pleasures, where nothing reaches the heart. 
 MARL. It 's a disease of the mind, madam. In the 
 
 variety of tastes there must be some, who, wanting a 
 
 relish for um a um. 
 Miss HARD. I understand you, sir. There must be 
 
 some, who, wanting a relish for refined pleasures, 
 
 pretend to despise what they are incapable of tasting. 
 MARL. My meaning, madam, but infinitely better 
 
 expressed. And I can't help observing a 
 
 Miss HARD. {Aside^\ Who could ever suppose this 
 
 fellow impudent upon some occasions? {To him.~\ 
 
 You were going to observe, sir 
 
 82 
 
sc. i.] She Stoops to Conquer 
 
 MARL. I was observing, madam I protest, madam, I 
 
 forget what I was going to observe. 
 Miss HARD. {Aside^ I vow, and so do I. \To him.'] 
 
 You were observing, sir, that in this age of hypocrisy 
 
 something about hypocrisy, sir. 
 MARL. Yes, madam ; in this age of hypocrisy there 
 
 are few who, upon strict inquiry, do not a 
 
 a a 
 
 Miss HARD. I understand you perfectly, sir. 
 
 MARL. \Aside^\ Indeed ! and that 's more than I do 
 
 myself. 
 Miss HARD.^YOU mean that, in this hypocritical age, 
 
 there are few that do not condemn in public what 
 
 they practise in private, and think they pay every 
 
 debt to virtue when they praise it. t \ 
 MARL. True, madam ; those who have most virtue _in^ 
 
 their mouths have least of it hPtEeir' "bosoms, But 
 
 I 'm sure I tire you, madam. 
 Miss HARD. Not in the least, sir; there's something 
 
 so agreeable, and spirited, in your manner ; such life 
 
 and force pray, sir, go on. 
 MARL. Yes, madam ; I was saying that there are 
 
 some occasions when a total want of courage, 
 
 madam, destroys all the and puts us upon a 
 
 a^ 
 a 
 
 Miss HARD. I agree with you entirely ; a want of 
 courage upon some occasions, assumes the appear- 
 ance of ignorance, and betrays us when we most 
 want to excel. I beg you '11 proceed. 
 
 MARL. Yes, madam ; morally speaking, madam But 
 
 83 
 
LUhat do you follow me for, Cousin Con ? 
 
 ACT 2. SCENE f. 
 
sc. i.] She Stoops to Conquer 
 
 I see Miss Neville expecting us in the next room. 
 
 I would not intrude for the world. 
 Miss HARD. I protest, sir, I never was more agreeably 
 
 entertained in all my life. Pray go on. 
 MARL. Yes, madam ; I was But she beckons us to 
 
 join her. Madam, shall I do myself the honour to 
 
 attend you ? 
 
 Miss HARD. Well, then, I '11 follow. 
 MARL. \_Aside^\ This pretty smooth dialogue has done 
 
 for me. \_Exit. 
 
 Miss HARDCASTLE, sola. 
 
 Miss HARD. Ha! ha! ha! Was there ever such a 
 sober, sentimental interview ? I'm certain he scarce 
 looked in my face the whole time. Yet the fellow, 
 but for his unaccountable bashfulness, is pretty well 
 too. He has good sense ; but then, so buried in his 
 fears, that it fatigues one more than ignorance. If 
 I could teach him a little confidence, it would be 
 doing somebody, that I know of, a piece of service. 
 But who is that somebody ? that is a question I can 
 scarce answer. \Exit. 
 
 Enter TONY and Miss NEVILLE, followed by 
 MRS. HARDCASTLE and HASTINGS. 
 
 TONY. What do you follow me for, Cousin Con? I 
 wonder you 're not ashamed to be so very engaging. 
 
 Miss NEV. I hope, cousin, one may speak to one's 
 own relations, and not be to blame ? 
 
 8? 
 
She Stoops to Conquer [ACT n. 
 
 TONY. Ay, but I know what sort of a relation you 
 want to make me, though ; but it won't do. I tell 
 you, Cousin Con, it won't do, so I beg you '11 keep 
 your distance ; I want no nearer relationship. 
 
 \Shefollows, coquetting him to the back-scene. 
 
 MRS. HARD. Well ! I vow, Mr. Hastings, you are very 
 entertaining. There 's nothing in the world I love 
 to talk of so much as London, and the fashions, 
 though I was never there myself. 
 
 HAST. Never there ! You amaze me ! From your 
 air and manner, I concluded you had been bred all 
 your life either at Ranelagh, St. James's, or Tower 
 Wharf. 
 
 MRS. HARD. Oh ! sir, you 're only pleased to say so. 
 We country persons can have no manner at all. I 'm 
 in love with the town, and that serves to raise me 
 above some of our neighbouring rustics ; but who 
 can have a manner, that has never seen the Pantheon, 
 the Grotto Gardens, the Borough, and such places 
 where the nobility chiefly resort ? All I can do is to 
 enjoy London at second-hand. I take care to know 
 every tte-a-tte from the Scandalous Magazine, and 
 have all the fashions, as they come out, in a letter 
 from the two Miss Rickets of Crooked Lane. Pray, 
 how do you like this head, Mr. Hastings ? 
 
 HAST. Extremely elegant and dtgagde, upon my word, 
 madam. Your friseur is a Frenchman, I suppose ? 
 
 MRS. HARD. I protest I dressed it myself from a print 
 in the Ladies' Memorandum Book for the last 
 year. 
 88 
 
of ' 
 
 6y my Jcc as 
 
/Sack fa baak, my pretties, t/iat y/lr. 
 may see you. 
 
sc. L] She Stoops to Conquer 
 
 HAST. Indeed ! such a head in a side-box, at the play- 
 house, would draw as many gazers as my Lady 
 Mayoress at a city ball. 
 
 MRS. HARD. I vow, since inoculation began there is 
 no such thing to be seen as a plain woman ; so one 
 must dress a little particular, or one may escape in 
 the crowd. 
 
 HAST. But that can never be your case, madam, in 
 any dress. [Bowing.} 
 
 MRS. HARD. Yet what signifies my dressing when I 
 have such a piece of antiquity by my side as Mr. 
 Hardcastle ? All I can say will not argue down a 
 single button from his clothes. I have often wanted 
 him to throw off his great flaxen wig, and where he 
 was bald to plaster it over, like my Lord Pately, 
 with powder. 
 
 HAST. You are right, madam ; for as among the ladies, 
 there are none ugly, so among the men there are 
 none old. 
 
 MRS. HARD. But what do you think his answer was ? 
 Why, with his usual Gothic vivacity, he said, I only 
 wanted him to throw off his wig, to convert it into a 
 tte for my own wearing. 
 
 HAST. Intolerable! At your age you may wear what 
 you please, and it must become you. 
 
 MRS. HARD. Pray, Mr. Hastings, what do you take to 
 be the most fashionable age about town ? 
 
 HAST. Some time ago, forty was all the mode ; but 
 I 'm told the ladies intend to bring up fifty for the 
 ensuing winter. 
 
 93 
 
She Stoops to Conquer [ACT n. 
 
 MRS. HARD. Seriously ! then I shall be too young for 
 
 the fashion. 
 HAST. No lady begins now to put on jewels till she's 
 
 past forty. For instance, Miss there, in a polite 
 
 circle, would be considered as a child, as a mere 
 
 maker of samplers. 
 MRS. HARD. And yet Mrs. Niece thinks herself as 
 
 much a woman, and is as fond of jewels, as the 
 
 oldest of us all. 
 HAST. Your niece, is she ? and that young gentleman a 
 
 brother of yours, I should presume ? 
 MRS. HARD. My son, sir. They are contracted to 
 
 each other. Observe their little sports. They fall 
 
 in and out ten times a day, as if they were man and 
 
 wife already. [To them.] Well, Tony, child, what 
 
 soft things are you saying to your cousin Constance 
 
 this evening ? 
 TONY. I have been saying no soft things ; but that it 's 
 
 very hard to be followed about so. Ecod, I Ve not 
 
 a place in the house now that 's left to myself, but 
 
 the stable. 
 MRS. HARD. Never mind him, Con, my dear. He 's 
 
 in another story behind your back. 
 Miss NEV. There 's something generous in my cousin's 
 
 manner. He falls out before faces to be forgiven in 
 
 private. 
 
 TONY. That 's a confounded crack. 
 MRS. HARD. Ah! he's a sly one. Don't you think 
 
 they're like each other about the mouth, Mr. 
 
 Hastings ? The Blenkinsop mouth to a T. They 're 
 94 
 
sc. i.] She Stoops to Conquer 
 
 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 NEV. Oh ! he has almost cracked my head. 
 
 MRS. HARD. Oh, the monster! For shame, Tony. 
 You a man, and behave so ! 
 
 TONY. If I 'm a man, let me have my fortin. Ecod, 
 I '11 not be made a fool of no longer. 
 
 MRS. HARD. 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 '11 not be made a fool of no longer. 
 
 MRS. HARD. 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. HARD. That 's false ; I never see you when you 
 are in spirits. No, Tony, you then go to the ale- 
 
 95 
 
c 
 
 S/ haoe seen her and sister cry ooer a boot? 
 for an hour together. 
 
 ACT 2. SCENE i 
 
sc. i.] She Stoops to Conquer 
 
 house, 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. HARD. Was ever the like ! But I see he wants 
 to break my heart, I see he does. 
 
 HAST. Dear madam, permit me to lecture the young 
 gentleman a little. I 'm certain I can persuade him 
 to his duty. 
 
 MRS. HARD. Well ! I must retire. Come, Constance, 
 my love. You see, Mr. Hastings, the wretched- 
 ness of my situation. Was ever poor woman so 
 plagued with a dear, sweet, pretty, provoking, 
 undutiful boy ? 
 
 \Exeunt MRS. HARDCASTLE and Miss NEVILLE. 
 
 HASTINGS. TONY. 
 TONY. [Singing. 1 
 
 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. 
 
 HAST. Then you 're no friend to the ladies, I find, my 
 pretty young gentleman. 
 
 TONY. That 's as I find 'um. 
 
 HAST. Not to her of your mother's choosing, I dare 
 
 99 
 
She Stoops to Conquer [ACT n. 
 
 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. 
 
 HAST, [si side.} 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. 
 
 HAST. To me she appears sensible and silent. 
 
 TONY. Ay, before company. But when she 's with her 
 playmates, she 's as loud as a hog in a gate. 
 
 HAST. 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. 
 
 HAST. 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. 
 
 HAST. Well, what say you to a friend that would take 
 this bitter bargain off your hands ? 
 
 TONY. Anon ! 
 
 HAST. Would you thank him that would take Miss 
 Neville, and leave you to happiness and your dear 
 Betsy ? 
 100 
 
roar 
 
 TONY. Ay ; but where is there such a friend ? for who 
 
 would take her? 
 HAST. I am he. If you but assist me, I '11 engage to 
 
 ship 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 '11 clap a pair of horses to your chaise 
 
 101 
 
/ 
 
 She Stoops to Conquer [ACT n. 
 
 that shall trundle you off in a twinkling ; and may 
 
 be, get you a part of her fortin beside, in jewels, 
 
 that you little dream of. 
 HAST. 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. 
 
 \Exeitnt. 
 
SCENE I 
 Enter HARDCASTLE, solus. 
 
 HARD. 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 fireside 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. 
 
 HARD. Well, my Kate, I see you have changed your 
 
 dress, as I bid you ; and yet, I believe, there was no 
 
 great occasion. 
 Miss HARD. I find such a pleasure, sir, in obeying 
 
 your commands, that I take care to obey them 
 
 without ever debating their propriety. 
 HARD. And yet, Kate, I sometimes give you some 
 
 cause, particularly when I recommended my modest 
 
 gentleman to you as a lover to-day. 
 
 o 105 
 

 Cue//, my 'ZsS.afe, 3? see you haoe changed 
 
 your dress, as S/ <^/ic/ you. 
 
 ACT 3. SCENE i 
 
sc. i.] She Stoops to Conquer 
 
 Miss HARD. You taught me to expect something 
 
 extraordinary, and I find the original exceeds the 
 
 description. 
 HARD. I was never so surprised in my life ! He has 
 
 quite confounded all my faculties ! 
 Miss HARD. I never saw anything like it : and a man 
 
 of the world, too ! 
 HARD. Ay, he learned it all abroad. tf 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 HARD. It seems all natural to him. 
 HARD. A good deal assisted by bad company, and a 
 
 French dancing-master. 
 Miss HARD. Sure you mistake, papa! A French 
 
 dancing-master could never have taught him that 
 
 timid look that awkward address that bashful 
 
 manner 
 
 HARD. Whose look ? whose manner, child ? 
 
 Miss HARD. Mr. Marlow's : his mauvaise honte, his 
 
 timidity, struck me at the first sight. 
 HARD. Then your first sight deceived you ; for I think 
 
 him one of the most brazen first-sights that ever 
 
 astonished my senses. 
 Miss HARD. Sure, sir, you rally! I never saw any 
 
 one so modest. 
 HARD. And can you be serious? I never saw such 
 
 a bouncing, swaggering puppy since I was born ! 
 
 Bully Dawson was but a fool to him. 
 Miss HARD. Surprising ! He met me with a respect- 
 
 109 
 
She Stoops to Conquer [ACT m. 
 
 ful bow, a stammering voice, and a look fixed on the 
 ground. 
 
 HARD. He met me with a loud voice, a lordly air, and 
 a familiarity that made my blood freeze again. 
 
 Miss HARD. He treated me with diffidence and 
 respect ; censured the manners of the age ; admired 
 the prudence of girls that never laughed ; tired me 
 with apologies for being tiresome ; then left the 
 room with a bow, and ' Madam, I would not for the 
 world detain you.' 
 
 HARD. He spoke to me as if he knew me all his life 
 before ; asked twenty questions, and never waited 
 for an answer ; interrupted my best remarks with 
 some silly pun ; and when I was in my best story 
 of the Duke of Marlborough and Prince Eugene, he 
 asked if I had not a good hand at making punch. 
 Yes, Kate, he asked your father if he was a maker 
 of punch ! 
 
 Miss HARD. One of us must certainly be mistaken. 
 
 HARD. If he be what he has shown himself, I 'm 
 determined he shall never have my consent. 
 
 Miss HARD. And if he be the sullen thing I take him, 
 he shall never have mine. 
 
 HARD. In one thing then we are agreed to reject him. 
 
 Miss HARD. Yes. But upon conditions. For if you 
 should find him less impudent, and I more presum- 
 ing ; if you find him more respectful, and I more 
 importunate I don't know the fellow is well 
 enough for a man. Certainly, we don't meet many 
 such at a horse-race in the country, 
 no 
 
sc. i.] She Stoops to Conquer 
 
 HARD. If we should find him so but that's impos- 
 sible. The first appearance has done my business. 
 1 'm seldom deceived in that. 
 
 Miss HARD. And yet there may be many good 
 qualities under that first appearance. 
 
 HARD. Ay, when a girl finds a fellow's outside to her 
 taste, she then sets about guessing the rest of his 
 furniture. With her a smooth face stands for 
 
 sense, and^j^ejrteel_figure_for every virtue. 
 Miss HARD. I hope, sir, a conversation begun with a 
 
 compliment to my good sense, won't end with a 
 
 sneer at my understanding. 
 HARD. Pardon me, Kate. But if young Mr. Brazen 
 
 can find the art of reconciling contradictions, he may 
 
 please us both, perhaps. 
 Miss HARD. And as one of us must be mistaken, 
 
 what if we go to make further discoveries ? 
 HARD. But depend on 't, I 'm in the right. 
 Miss HARD. And depend on 't, I 'm not much in the 
 
 wrong. \Exeunt. 
 
 Enter TONY running in with a casket. 
 
 TONY. Ecod, I have got them ! Here they are. My 
 cousin Con's necklaces, bobs, and all. My mother 
 shan't cheat the poor souls out of their fortin, neither. 
 Oh ! my genus, is that you ? 
 
 Enter HASTINGS. 
 
 HAST. My dear friend, how have you managed with 
 your mother? I hope you have amused her with 
 
 in 
 
She Stoops to Conquer [ACT in. 
 
 pretending love for your cousin ; and that you are 
 willing to be reconciled at last. Our horses will be 
 refreshed in a short time, and we shall soon be ready 
 to set off. 
 
 TONY. And here's something to bear your charges by 
 the way [giving the caskef] your sweetheart's 
 jewels. Keep them ; and hang those, I say, that 
 would rob you of one of them. 
 
 HAST. But how have you procured them from your 
 mother ? 
 
 TONY. Ask me no questions, and I '11 tell you no fibs. 
 I procured them by the rule of thumb. If I had not 
 a key to every drawer in my mother's bureau, how 
 could I go to the alehouse so often as I do? An 
 honest man may rob himself of his own at any 
 time. 
 
 HAST. Thousands do it every day. But to be plain 
 with you, Miss Neville is endeavouring to procure 
 them from her aunt this very instant. If she succeeds, 
 it will be the most delicate way at least of obtaining 
 them. 
 
 TONY. Well, keep them, till you know how it will be. 
 I know how it will be, well enough ; she 'd as soon 
 part with the only sound tooth in her head. 
 
 HAST. But I dread the effects of her resentment, when 
 she finds she has lost them. 
 
 TONY. Never you mind her resentment, leave me to 
 
 manage that. I don't value her resentment the 
 
 bounce of a cracker. Zounds ! here they are. 
 
 Morrice ! Prance ! [Exit HASTINGS. 
 
 112 
 
TONY, MRS. HARDCASTLE, Miss NEVILLE. 
 
 MRS. HARD. Indeed, Constance, you amaze me. Such 
 a girl as you want jewels ! It will be time enough 
 for jewels, my dear, twenty years hence ; when your 
 beauty begins to want repairs. / 
 
 Miss NEV. But what will repair _beauty at forty, will 
 certainly improve _it_at_twenty, madajp. 
 
 MRS. HARD. Yours, my dear, can admit of none. That 
 natural blush is beyond a thousand ornaments, 
 p 113 
 
G 
 
 reva 
 
 kj 
 
 jJ 
 
 6ear witness. 
 
 ACT 3. SCENE I. 
 
sc. i.] She Stoops to Conquer 
 
 Besides, child, jewels are quite out at present. Don't 
 you see half the ladies of our acquaintance, my Lady 
 Kill-Daylight, and Mrs. Crump, and the rest of them, 
 carry their jewels to town, and bring nothing but 
 paste and marcasites back ? 
 
 Miss NEV. But who knows, madam, but somebody 
 that shall be nameless would like me best with all 
 my little finery about me ? 
 
 MRS. HARD. Consult your glass, my dear, and then 
 see if, with such a pair of eyes, you want any better 
 sparklers. What do you think, Tony, my dear? 
 Does your cousin Con want any jewels, in your eyes, 
 to set off her beauty ? 
 
 TONY. That 's as thereafter may be. * 
 
 Miss NEV. My dear aunt, if you knew how it would 
 oblige me. 
 
 MRS. HARD. A parcel of old-fashioned rose and table- 
 cut things. They would make you look like the court 
 of King Solomon at a puppet-show. Besides, 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! 
 
 117 
 
She Stoops to Conquer [ACT in. 
 
 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 '11 not believe it ; this is but a shallow 
 pretence to deny me. I know they 'Ye 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 '11 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 mis- 
 fortunes 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, 
 118 
 
sc. L] She Stoops to Conquer 
 
 to set off a clear complexion. You have often seen 
 how well they looked 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 rrore 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 ! 
 
 119 
 
She Stoops to Conquer [ACT in. 
 
 MRS. HARD. 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. 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 '11 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 '11 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. 
 1 20 
 
a/ 
 
 MRS. HARD. Do you insult me, monster ? I '11 teach 
 
 you to vex your mother, I will. 
 TONY. I can bear witness to that. 
 
 [He runs off, she follows him. 
 
 Q 121 
 
c 
 
 8 
 
 
 Jell me, Jimple, fioio do you like me/ 
 present dress? 
 
 ACT 3. SCENE I 
 
sc. i.] She Stoops to Conquer 
 
 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 am 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 com- 
 pany. 
 
 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 acquaint- 
 ance, and that's no small victory gained over one 
 
 125 
 
She Stoops to Conquer [ACT in. 
 
 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. 
 
 \lValks 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. 
 126 
 
sc. i.] She Stoops to Conquer 
 
 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 '11 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 '11 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 ? 
 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, 
 
 127 
 

 8 
 
 *iP 
 
 1(01 
 
 ^ 
 ^ 
 
 cfleoer saw a more sprightly, malicious eye. 
 
sc i-] She Stoops to Conquer 
 
 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 shoulo^ 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. [Approaching] By coming close 
 to some women, they look younger still ; but when 
 
 we come very close indeed 
 
 [Attempting to kiss her. 
 
 Miss HARD. Pray, sir, keep your distance. 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 '11 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. 
 

 ifteep up t/ie spirit of the place. 
 
 ACT 3. SCENE l 
 
sc. i.] She Stoops to Conquer 
 
 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. Lang- 
 horns, 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 ! 
 
 MARL. [Aside.} Indeed! I don't quite like this chit. 
 She looks knowing, methinks. [To her.} You 
 laugh, child ! 
 
 Miss HARD. I can't but laugh to think what time 
 they all have for minding their work or their family. 
 
 MARL. [Aside} All 's well, she don't laugh at me. 
 [To her} Do you ever work, child ? 
 
 Miss HARD. Ay, sure. There's not a screen or a 
 quilt in the whole house but what can bear witness 
 to that. 
 
 135 
 
She Stoops to Conquer [ACT in. 
 
 MARL. Odso ! Then you must show me your em- 
 broidery. I embroider, and draw patterns myself a 
 little. If you want a judge of your work, you must 
 apply to me. [Seising her hand. 
 
 Miss HARD. Ay, but the colours don't look well by 
 candle-light. You shall see all in the morning. 
 
 [Struggling. 
 
 MARL. And why not now, my angel? Such beauty 
 fires beyond the power of resistance. Pshaw ! the 
 father here! My old luck! I never nicked seven, 
 that I did not throw ames-ace three times following. 
 
 MARLOW. 
 
 Enter HARDCASTLE, who stands in surprise. 
 
 HARD. So, madam ! So I find this is your modest 
 lover ! This is your humble admirer, that kept his 
 eyes fixed on the ground, and only adored at humble 
 distance. Kate, Kate ! art thou not ashamed to 
 deceive your father so ? 
 
 Miss HARD. Never trust me, dear papa, but he 's still 
 the modest man I first took him for ; you '11 be 
 convinced of it as well as I. 
 
 HARD. By the hand of my body, I believe his 
 impudence is infectious ! Didn't I see him seize 
 your hand? didn't I see him haul you about like a 
 milkmaid ? and now you talk of his respect and his 
 modesty, forsooth ! 
 
 Miss HARD. But if I shortly convince you of his 
 modesty ; that he has only the faults that will pass 
 136 
 
e77)70 toftx) no? near TTJ.U a-nge ( 
 
She Stoops to Conquer [ACT in. 
 
 off with time, and the virtues that will improve with 
 
 age, I hope you '11 forgive him. 
 HARD. The girl would actually make one run mad ; 
 
 I tell you, I '11 not be convinced. I am convinced. 
 
 He has scarcely been three hours in the house, and 
 
 he has already encroached on all my prerogatives 
 
 You may like his impudence, and call it modesty ; 
 
 but my son-in-law, madam, must have very different 
 
 qualifications. 
 Miss HARD. Sir, I ask but this night to convince 
 
 you. 
 HARD. You shall not have half the time ; for I have 
 
 thoughts of turning him out this very hour. 
 Miss HARD. Give me that hour, then, and I hope to 
 
 satisfy you. 
 HARD. Well, an hour let it be, then. But I '11 have no 
 
 trifling with your father. All fair and open, do you 
 
 mind me? 
 Miss HARD. I hope, sir, you have ever found that I 
 
 considered your commands as my pride ; for your 
 
 kindness is such that my duty as yet has been 
 
 inclination. {Exeunt. 
 
SCENE I 
 Enter HASTINGS and Miss NEVILLE. 
 
 HAST. You surprise me ! Sir Charles Marlovv ex- 
 pected here this night ? Where have you had your 
 information ? 
 
 Miss NEV. You may depend upon it. I just saw 
 his letter to Mr. Hardcastle, in which he tells 
 him he intends setting out a few hours after his 
 son. 
 
 HAST. Then, my Constance, all must be completed 
 before he arrives. He knows me ; and should he 
 find me here, would discover my name, and perhaps 
 my designs, to the rest of the family. 
 
 Miss NEV. The jewels, I hope, are safe. 
 
 HAST. Yes, yes. I have sent them to Marlow, who 
 keeps the keys of our baggage. In the meantime, 
 I '11 go to prepare matters for our elopement. I have 
 had the squire's promise of a fresh pair of horses : 
 and, if I should not see him again, will write him 
 further directions. {Exit. 
 
 Miss NEV. Well, success attend you. In the mean- 
 time, I '11 go amuse my aunt with the old pretence of 
 a violent passion for my cousin. \Exit. 
 
 141 
 
She Stoops to Conquer [ACT iv. 
 
 Enter MARLOW followed by a Servant. 
 
 MARL. I wonder what Hastings could mean by send- 
 ing me so valuable a thing as a casket to keep for 
 him, when he knows the only place I have is the seat 
 of a post-coach at an inn-door? Have you deposited 
 the casket with the landlady, as I ordered you? 
 Have you put it into her own hands ? 
 
 SERV. Yes, your honour. 
 
 MARL. She said she 'd keep it safe, did she ? 
 
 SERV. Yes, she said she 'd keep it safe enough ; she 
 asked me how I came by it, and she said she had a 
 great mind to make me give an account of myself. 
 
 [Exit Servant. 
 
 MARL. Ha ! ha ! ha ! They 're safe, however. What 
 an unaccountable set of beings have we got amongst I 
 This little barmaid, though, runs in my head most 
 strangely, and drives out the absurdities of all the 
 rest of the family. She 's mine, she must be mine, 
 or I 'm greatly mistaken. 
 
 Enter HASTINGS. 
 
 HAST. Bless me! I quite forgot to tell her that I 
 intended to prepare at the bottom of the garden. 
 Marlow here, and in spirits, too ! 
 
 MARL. Give me joy, George ! Crown me, shadow me 
 with laurels ! Well, George, after all, we modest 
 fellows don't want for success among the women. 
 
 HAST. Some women, you mean. But what success 
 142 
 
sc. i.] She Stoops to Conquer 
 
 has your honour's modesty been crowned with now, 
 that it grows so insolent upon us ? 
 
 MARL. Didn't you see the tempting, brisk, lovely little 
 thing that runs about the house, with a bunch of 
 keys to its girdle ? 
 
 HAST. Well, and what then ? 
 
 MARL. She's mine, you rogue you. Such fire, such 
 motion, such eyes, such lips but, egad ! she would 
 not let me kiss them, though. 
 
 HAST. But are you so sure, so very sure of her ? 
 
 MARL. Why, man, she talked of showing me her work 
 above stairs, and I 'm to improve the pattern. 
 
 HAST. You have taken care, I hope, of the casket I 
 sent you to lock up? It's in safety? 
 
 MARL. Yes, yes ; it 's safe enough. I have taken care 
 of it. But how could you think the seat of a post- 
 coach, at an inn-door, a place of safety? Ah! 
 numskull ! I have taken better precautions for you 
 than you did for yourself. I have 
 
 HAST. What? 
 
 MARL. I have sent it to the landlady to keep for you. 
 
 HAST. To the landlady! 
 
 MARL. The landlady. 
 
 HAST. You did ! 
 
 MARL. I did. She's to be answerable for its forth- 
 coming, you know. 
 
 HAST. Yes, she'll bring it forth, with a witness. 
 
 MARL. Wasn't I right ? I believe you '11 allow that I 
 acted prudently upon this occasion. 
 
 HAST. {Aside.} He must not see my uneasiness. 
 
She Stoops to Conquer [ACT iv. 
 
 MARL. You seem a little disconcerted, though, me- 
 thinks. Sure nothing has happened. 
 
 HAST. No, nothing. Never was in better spirits in 
 all my life. And so you left it with the landlady, 
 who, no doubt, very readily undertook the charge ? 
 
 MARL. Rather too readily. For she not only kept 
 the casket ; but, through her great precaution, was 
 going to keep the messenger too. Ha! ha ! ha ! 
 
 HAST. He ! he ! he ! They are safe, however. 
 
 MARL. As a guinea in a miser's purse. 
 
 HAST. {.Aside.} So now all hopes of fortune are at an 
 end, and we must set off without it. [ To him.'] Well, 
 Charles, I '11 leave you to your meditations on the 
 pretty barmaid ; and, he ! he ! he ! may you be as 
 successful for yourself as you have been for me ! 
 
 \Exit. 
 
 MARL. Thank ye, George ! 
 
 Enter HARDCASTLE. 
 
 HARD. I no longer know my own house. It 's turned 
 all topsy-turvy. His servants have got drunk 
 already. I '11 bear it no longer ; and yet, for my 
 respect for his father, I '11 be calm. [To him.} Mr. 
 Marlow, your servant. I 'm your very humble 
 servant. [Bowing low. 
 
 MARL. Sir, your humble servant. [Aside.] What's 
 to be the wonder now ? 
 
 HARD. I believe, sir, you must be sensible, sir, that no 
 man alive ought to be more welcome than your 
 father's son, sir. I hope you think so. 
 144 
 
sc. i.] She Stoops to Conquer 
 
 MARL. I do, from my soul, sir. I don't want much 
 entreaty. I generally make my father's son welcome 
 wherever he goes. 
 
 HARD. I believe you do, from my soul, sir. But 
 though I say nothing to your own conduct, that of 
 your servants is insufferable. Their manner of 
 drinking is setting a very bad example in this house, 
 I assure you. 
 
 MARL. I protest, my very good sir, that 's no fault of 
 mine. If they don't drink as they ought, they are to 
 blame. I ordered them not to spare the cellar: I 
 did, I assure you. [To the side scene I\ Here, let 
 one of my servants come up. [To him.] My 
 positive directions were, that as I did not drink 
 myself, they should make up for my deficiencies 
 below. 
 
 HARD. Then, they had your orders for what they do ! 
 I 'm satisfied. 
 
 MARL. They had, I assure you. You shall hear from 
 one of themselves. 
 
 Enter Servant, drunk. 
 
 MARL. You, Jeremy! Come forward, sirrah. What 
 were my orders ? Were you not told to drink freely, 
 and call for what you thought fit, for the good of the 
 house ? 
 
 HARD. \Aside^\ I begin to lose my patience. 
 
 JEREMY. Please your honour, liberty and Fleet Street 
 for ever ! Though I 'm but a servant, I 'm as good 
 
 T 145 
 
your, 
 
 /or 
 
 , /i6ejrfu a/nc) 
 
 as another man. I '11 drink for no man before 
 supper, sir! Good liquor will sit upon a good 
 supper; but a good supper will not sit upon 
 \hiccMp\ upon my conscience, sir. 
 MARL. You see, my old friend, the fellow is as drunk 
 as he can possibly be. I don't know what you'd 
 have more, unless you 'd have the poor fellow soused 
 in a beer-barrel. 
 146 
 
sc. i.] She Stoops to Conquer 
 
 HARD. Zounds! He'll drive me distracted if I 
 contain myself any longer. [Aside.} Mr. Marlow, 
 sir ; I have submitted to your insolence for more than 
 four hours, and I see no likelihood of its coming to 
 an end. I 'm now resolved to be master here, sir ; 
 and I desire that you and your drunken pack may 
 leave my house directly. 
 
 MARL. Leave your house ? Sure you jest, my good 
 friend ! What ! when I 'm doing what I can to 
 please you ? 
 
 HARD. I tell you, sir, you don't please me ; so I desire 
 you '11 leave my house. 
 
 MARL. Sure you cannot be serious ! At this time 
 o' night, and such a night! You only mean to 
 banter me. 
 
 HARD. I tell you, sir, I 'm serious ; and, now that my 
 passions are roused, I say this house is mine, sir ; 
 this house is mine, and I command you to leave it 
 directly ! 
 
 MARL. Ha ! ha ! ha ! A puddle in a storm. I shan't 
 stir a step, I assure you. [In a serious tone^\ This 
 your house, fellow! It's my house. This is my 
 house. Mine, while I choose to stay. What right 
 have you to bid me leave this house, sir? I never 
 met with such impudence, never in my whole life 
 before. 
 
 HARD. Nor I, confound me if ever I did. To come 
 to my house, to call for what he likes, to turn me out 
 of my own chair, to insult the family, to order his 
 servants to get drunk, and then to tell me, This 
 
 H7 
 
She Stoops to Conquer [ACT iv. 
 
 house is mine, sir. By all that 's impudent, it makes 
 me laugh. Ha ! ha ! Pray, sir \bantering\ as you 
 take the house, what think you of taking the rest 
 of the furniture? There's a pair of silver candle- 
 sticks, and there 's a fire-screen, and here 's a pair of 
 brazen-nosed bellows perhaps you may take a fancy 
 to them. 
 
 MARL. Bring me your bill, sir ; bring me your bill, and 
 let 's make no more words about it. 
 
 HARD. There are a set of prints, too. What think 
 you of the ' Rake's Progress ' for your own apart- 
 ment? 
 
 MARL. Bring me your bill, I say ; and I '11 leave you 
 and your house directly. 
 
 HARD. Then there's a mahogany table, that you may 
 see your own face in. 
 
 MARL. My bill, I say. 
 
 HARD. I had forgot the great chair, for your own 
 particular slumbers, after a hearty meal. 
 
 MARL. Zounds! bring me my bill, I say; and let's 
 hear no more on 't. 
 
 HARD. Young man, young man, from your father's 
 letter to me, I was taught to expect a well-bred, 
 modest man as a visitor here ; but now I find him 
 no better than a coxcomb, and a bully. But he 
 will be down here presently, and shall hear more 
 of it. {Exit. 
 
 MARL. How's this? Sure I have not mistaken the 
 house ! Everything looks like an inn. The servants 
 cry, Coming. The attendance is awkward ; the bar- 
 148 
 
sc. i ] She Stoops to Conquer 
 
 maid, too, to attend us. But she's here, and will 
 further inform me. Whither so fast, child? A 
 word with you. 
 
 Enter Miss HARDCASTLE. 
 
 Miss HARD. Let it be short, then. I 'm in a hurry. 
 [^4 side.] I believe he begins to find out his mistake ; 
 but it 's too soon quite to undeceive him. 
 
 MARL. Pray, child, answer me one question. What 
 are you, and what may your business in this 
 house be? 
 
 Miss HARD. A relation >f the family, sir. 
 
 MARL. What ! a poor relation ? 
 
 Miss HARD. Yes, sir; a poor relation, appointed to 
 keep the keys, and to see that the guests want 
 nothing in my power to give them. 
 
 MARL. That is, you act as the barmaid of this inn. 
 
 Miss HARD. Inn! Oh, la! What brought that in 
 your head ? One of the best families in the county 
 keep an inn ! Ha ! ha ! ha ! old Mr. Hardcastle's 
 house an inn ! 
 
 MARL. Mr. Hardcastle's house ! Is this house Mr. 
 Hardcastle's house, child? 
 
 Miss HARD. Ay, sure. Whose else should it be? 
 
 MARL. So then all 's out, and I have been imposed on. 
 Oh, confound my stupid head ! I shall be laughed 
 at over the whole town. I shall be stuck up in 
 caricatura in all the print shops ; the Dullissimo 
 Maccaroni. To mistake this house, of all others, for 
 an inn ; and my father's old friend for an innkeeper ! 
 
 149 
 
c 
 
 8 
 
 : 
 
 JfCeaoen, sAe weeps. 
 
 ACT 4. SCENE 1. 
 
sc. i.] She Stoops to Conquer 
 
 What a swaggering puppy must he take me for! 
 What a silly puppy do I find myself! There again, 
 may I be hanged, my dear, but I mistook you for the 
 barmaid. 
 
 Miss HARD. Dear me ! dear me ! I 'm sure there 's 
 nothing in my behaviour to put me upon a level with 
 one of that stamp. 
 
 MARL. Nothing, my dear, nothing. But I was in for 
 a list of blunders, and could not help making you a 
 subscriber. My stupidity saw everything the wrong 
 way. I mistook your assiduity for assurance, and 
 your simplicity for allurement. But it 's over. This 
 house I no more show my face in. 
 
 Miss HARD. I hope, sir, I have done nothing to 
 disoblige you. I 'm sure I should be sorry to affront 
 any gentleman who has been so polite, and said so 
 many civil things to me. I 'm sure I should be sorry 
 [pretending to cry] if he left the family upon my 
 account. I 'm sure I should be sorry, people said 
 anything amiss, since I have no fortune but my 
 character. 
 
 MARL. [Aside.} By Heaven, she weeps. This is the 
 first mark of tenderness I ever had from a modest 
 woman, and it touches me. [To her.~\ Excuse me, 
 my lovely girl, you are the only part of the family I 
 leave with reluctance. But to be plain with you^ the 
 difference of our birth, fortune, and education, make 
 an honourable connection impossible; and I can 
 never harbour a thought of bringing ruin upon one 
 whose only fault was being too lovely. 
 
 u 153 
 
She Stoops to Conquer [ACT iv. 
 
 Miss HARD. \_AsideI\ Generous man ! I now begin to 
 admire him. \To him\ But I 'm sure my family is 
 as good as Mr. 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. 
 
 MARL. And why now, my pretty simplicity ? 
 
 Miss HARD. Because it puts me at a distance from 
 one, that if I had a thousand pound, I would give it 
 all to. 
 
 MARL. \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 HARD. I never knew half his merit till now. 
 He shall not go, if I have power or art to detain him. 
 I 'Instill preserve the character jqjwhich J_ stoopecU-tQ^ 
 conquer ; but will unde~ceive my papa, who, perhaps, 
 may laugh him out of his resolution. \Exit. 
 
 Enter TONY, 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. 
 
 154 
 
sc. i.] She Stoops to Conquer 
 
 Miss NEV. But, my dear cousin, sure you won't for- 
 sake us in this distress. If she in the least suspects 
 that I 'm 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 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. HARD. 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. HARD. A mere sprinkling, Tony, upon the flame, 
 only to make it burn brighter. 
 
 Miss NEV. Cousin Tony promises to give us more of 
 
 155 
 
admiring that pleasant, broad, red, 
 thoughtless ah! it s a bold face. 
 
sc. i.] She Stoops to Conquer 
 
 his company at home. Indeed, he shan't leave us 
 any more. It won't leave us, Cousin Tony, will it ? 
 
 TONY. Oh ! 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 NEV. Agreeable cousin ! Who can help admir- 
 ing that natural humour, that pleasant, broad, red, 
 thoughtless [patting his cheek\, ah ! it 's a bold face. 
 
 MRS. HARD. Pretty innocence ! 
 
 TONY. I 'm sure I always loved Cousin Con's hazel 
 eyes, and her pretty long fingers, that she twists this 
 way and that, over the haspicholls, like a parcel of 
 bobbins. 
 
 MRS. HARD. Ah 1 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 Mr. Drowsy's 
 sermons, to a fitter opportunity. 
 
 Enter DIGGORY. 
 
 DIGG. Where's the 'squire? I have got a letter for 
 
 your worship. 
 TONY. Give it to my mamma. She reads all my 
 
 letters first. 
 DIGG. I had orders to deliver it into your own hands. 
 
 159 
 
\ 
 
 She Stoops to Conquer [ACT iv. 
 
 TONY. Who does it come from ? 
 
 DIGG. Your worship mun ask that o' the letter itself. 
 
 TONY. I could wish to know though. [Turning the 
 letter and gazing on it.} 
 
 Miss NEV. \Aside^\ Undone, undone! A letter to 
 him from Hastings. I know the hand. If my aunt 
 sees it, we are ruined for ever. I '11 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 cramp piece of penman- 
 ship, as ever I saw in my life. I can read your 
 print hand very well. But here there are such 
 handles, and shanks, and dashes, that one can 
 scarce tell the head from the tail. ' To Anthony 
 Lumpkin, Esq.' 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 is 
 all buzz. That 's hard, very hard ; for the inside 
 of the letter is always the cream of the corre- 
 spondence. 
 
 MRS. HARD. Ha ! ha ! ha ! Very well, very well. 
 And so my son was too hard for the philosopher. 
 
 Miss NEV. 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. HARD. He seems strangely puzzled now himself, 
 methinks. 
 1 60 
 
TONY. [5/z7/ gazing.] An 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 7", and 
 a 5; but whether the next be izzard or an R, 
 confound me, I cannot tell. 
 
 MRS. HARD. What 's that, my dear ? Can I give you 
 any assistance ? 
 
 Miss NEV. Pray, aunt, let me read it. Nobody reads 
 x 161 
 
She Stoops to Conquer [ACT iv. 
 
 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 NEV. 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 gentleman of the 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. HARD. 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 '11 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 NEV. 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. 
 162 
 
sc. I ] She Stoops to Conquer 
 
 MRS. HARD. \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 '11 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 '11 warrant me. 
 You too, sir, may mount your horse, and guard 
 us upon the way. Here, Thomas, Roger, Diggory, 
 I '11 show you that I wish you better than you do 
 yourselves. \Rxit. 
 
 Miss NEV. So now I 'm completely ruined. 
 
 TONY. Ay, that 's a sure thing. 
 
 Miss NEV. 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. 
 
 HAST. So, sir, I find by my servant that you have 
 
 163 
 
W 
 
 'net you, you great ill-fashioned oaf 
 
 ACT 4. SCENE 1. 
 
sc. i.] She Stoops to Conquer 
 
 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. 
 
 MARL. 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 NEV. And there, sir, is the gentleman to whom 
 
 we all owe every obligation. 
 MARL. What can I say to him, a mere boy, an idiot, 
 
 whose ignorance and age are a protection ? 
 HAST. A poor contemptible booby, that would but 
 
 disgrace correction. 
 Miss NEV. Yet with cunning and malice enough to 
 
 make himself merry with all our embarrassments. 
 HAST. An insensible cub ! 
 MARL. Replete with tricks and mischief. 
 TONY. Baw ! but I '11 fight you both, one after the 
 
 other with baskets. 
 MARL. 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. 
 
 HAST. Tortured as I am with my own disappoint- 
 ments, is this a time for explanations? It is not 
 
 friendly, Mr. Marlow. 
 
 167 
 
She Stoops to Conquer [ACT iv. 
 
 MARL. But, sir 
 
 Miss NEV. Mr. Marlow, we never kept on your 
 
 mistake, till it was too late to undeceive you. Be 
 
 pacified. 
 
 Enter Servant. 
 
 SERV. My mistress desires you'll get ready imme- 
 diately, 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 NEV. Well, well ; I '11 come presently. 
 
 MARL. [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. 
 
 HAST. 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 NEV. Mr. Hastings, Mr. Marlow, why will you 
 increase my distress by this groundless dispute. I 
 implore, I entreat you 
 
 Enter Servant. 
 
 SERV. Your cloak, madam. My mistress is impatient. 
 Miss NEV. I come. Pray be pacified. If I leave you 
 thus, I shall die with apprehension. 
 
 Enter Servant. 
 
 SERV. Your fan, muff, and gloves, madam. The 
 horses are waiting. 
 1 68 
 
sc. L] She Stoops to Conquer 
 
 Miss NEV. Oh, 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. 
 
 MARL. 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. 
 
 HAST. The torture of my situation is my only excuse. 
 
 Miss NEV. 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 connection. If 
 
 MRS. HARD. \Within^ Miss Neville. Constance, 
 why Constance, I say. 
 
 Miss NEV. I 'm coming. Well, constancy. Re- 
 member, constancy is the word. [Exit. 
 
 HAST. My heart, how can I support this ! To be so 
 near happiness, and such happiness ! 
 
 MARL. [To TONY.] You see now, young gentleman, the 
 effects of your folly. What might be amusement to 
 you, is here disappointment, and even distress. 
 
 TONY. [From a reverie.'] Ecod, I have hit it. It 's here. 
 Your hands. Yours and yours, my poor sulky. 
 My boots there, ho ! Meet me two hours hence at 
 the bottom of the garden; and if you don't find Tony 
 Lumpkin a more good-natured fellow than you 
 thought for, I '11 give you leave to take my best horse, 
 and Bet Bouncer into the bargain. Come along. 
 My boots, ho ! [Exeunt. 
 
 Y 169 
 
SCENE I 
 
 Scene continues. 
 
 Enter HASTINGS and Servant. 
 
 HAST. You saw the old lady and Miss Neville drive 
 off, you say? 
 
 SERV. Yes, your honour ; they went off in a post-coach, 
 and the young 'squire went on horseback. They 're 
 thirty miles off by this time. 
 
 HAST. Then all my hopes are over. 
 
 SERV. Yes, sir. Old Sir Charles is arrived. He and 
 the old gentleman of the house have been laughing 
 at Mr. Marlow's mistake this half-hour. They are 
 coming this way. 
 
 HAST. Then I must not be seen. So now to my fruit- 
 less appointment at the bottom of the garden. This 
 is about the time. \Exit. 
 
 Enter SIR CHARLES and HARDCASTLE. 
 
 HARD. Ha ! ha ! ha ! The peremptory tone in which 
 
 he sent forth his sublime commands ! 
 SIR CHARLES. And the reserve with which I suppose 
 
 he treated all your advances ! 
 
 173 
 
She Stoops to Conquer [ACT v. 
 
 HARD. And yet he might have seen something in me 
 above a common innkeeper, too. 
 
 SIR CHARLES. Yes, Dick, but he mistook you for an 
 uncommon innkeeper, ha ! ha ! ha ! 
 
 HARD. Well, I 'm in too good spirits to think of any- 
 thing but joy. Yes, my dear friend, this union of our 
 families will make our personal friendships heredi- 
 tary; and though my daughter's fortune is but 
 small 
 
 SIR CHARLES. Why, Dick, will you talk of fortune 
 to me! My son is possessed of more than a 
 competence already, and can want nothing but a 
 good and virtuous girl to share his happiness and 
 increase it. If they like each other, as you say 
 they do 
 
 HARD. If, man ! I tell you they do like each other. 
 My daughter as good as told me so. 
 
 SIR CHARLES. But girls are apt to flatter themselves, 
 you know. 
 
 HARD. I saw him grasp her hand in the warmest 
 manner myself ; and here he comes, to put you out 
 of your ifs, I warrant him. 
 
 Enter MARLOW. 
 
 MARL. I come, sir, once more, to ask pardon for my 
 strange conduct. I can scarce reflect on my insolence 
 without confusion. 
 
 HARD. Tut, boy, a trifle. You take it too gravely. 
 An hour or two's laughing with my daughter will 
 
sc. i.] She Stoops to Conquer 
 
 set all to rights again. She'll never like you the 
 
 worse for it. 
 
 MARL. Sir, I shall be always proud of her approbation. 
 HARD. Approbation is but a cold word, Mr. Marlow: 
 
 if I am not deceived, you have something more than 
 
 approbation thereabouts. You take me ? 
 MARL. Really, sir, I have not that happiness. 
 HARD. Come, boy, I 'm an old fellow, and know what 's 
 
 what, as well as you that are younger. I know what 
 
 has passed between you ; but mum. 
 MARL. Sure, sir, nothing has passed between us, but 
 
 the most profound respect on my side, and the most 
 
 distant reserve on hers. You don't think, sir, that 
 
 my impudence has been passed upon all the rest 
 
 of the family ? 
 HARD. Impudence ! No, I don't say that. Not quite 
 
 impudence. Though girls like to be played with, 
 
 and rumpled a little too, sometimes. But she has 
 
 told no tales, I assure you. 
 MARL. I never gave her the slightest cause. 
 HARD. Well, well, I like modesty in its place well 
 
 enough. But this is over-acting, young gentleman. 
 
 You may be open. Your father and I will like you 
 
 the better for it. 
 
 MARL. May I die, sir, if I ever 
 
 HARD. I tell you, she don't dislike you ; and as I 'm 
 
 sure you like her 
 
 MARL. Dear sir I protest, sir 
 
 HARD. I see no reason why you should not be joined 
 
 as fast as the parson can tie you. 
 
 175 
 
She Stoops to Conquer [ACT v. 
 
 MARL. But hear me, sir- 
 
 HARD. Your father approves the match, I admire it, 
 every moment's delay will be doing mischief, so 
 
 MARL. But why won't you hear me? By all that's 
 just and true, I never gave Miss Hardcastle the 
 slightest mark of my attachment, or even the most 
 distant hint to suspect me of affection. We had but 
 one interview, and that was formal, modest, and 
 uninteresting. 
 
 HARD. \Aside^\ This fellow's formal, modest impu- 
 dence is beyond bearing. 
 
 SIR CHARLES. And you never grasped her hand, or 
 made any protestations ? 
 
 MARL. As Heaven is my witness, I came down in 
 obedience to your commands. I saw the lady 
 without emotion, and parted without reluctance. I 
 hope you '11 exact no further proofs of my duty, nor 
 prevent me from leaving a house in which I suffer so 
 many mortifications. \_Rxit. 
 
 SIR CHARLES. I 'm astonished at the air of sincerity 
 with which he parted. 
 
 HARD. And I 'm astonished at the deliberate intre- 
 pidity of his assurance. 
 
 SIR CHARLES. I dare pledge my life and honour upon 
 his truth. 
 
 HARD. Here comes my daughter, and I would stake 
 my happiness upon her veracity. 
 
 Enter Miss HARDCASTLE. 
 
 HARD. Kate, come hither, child. Answer us sincerely, 
 176 
 
sc. i.] She Stoops to Conquer 
 
 and without reserve : has Mr. Marlow made you any 
 professions of love and affection ? 
 
 Miss HARD. The question is very abrupt, sir. But 
 since you require unreserved sincerity, I think he has. 
 
 HARD. [To SIR CHARLES.] You see. 
 
 SIR CHARLES. And pray, madam, have you and my 
 son had more than one interview? 
 
 Miss HARD. Yes, sir, several. 
 
 HARD. [To SIR CHARLES.] You see. 
 
 SIR CHARLES. But did he profess any attachment ? 
 
 Miss HARD. A lasting one. 
 
 SIR CHARLES. Did he talk of love ? 
 
 Miss HARD. Much, sir. 
 
 SIR CHARLES. Amazing ! and all this formally ? 
 
 Miss HARD. Formally. 
 
 HARD. Now, my friend, I hope you are satisfied ? 
 
 SIR CHARLES. And how did he behave, madam ? 
 
 Miss HARD. As most professed admirers do. Said 
 
 some civil things of my face ; talked much of his 
 
 want of merit, and the greatness of mine ; mentioned 
 
 his heart; gave a short tragedy speech, and ended 
 
 \ with pretended rapture. 
 
 SIR CHARLES. Now I 'm perfectly convinced, indeed. 
 I know his conversation among women to be modest 
 and submissive. This forward, canting, ranting 
 manner by no means describes him, and I am 
 confident he never sat for the picture. 
 
 Miss HARD. Then what, sir, if I should convince you 
 to your face of my sincerity ? If you and my papa, 
 in about half an hour, will place yourselves behind 
 z 177 
 
& 
 
 &fo 
 
 hoio did fie 6e/iaoe, madam ? 
 
 ACT 5. SCENE 1 
 
sc. i.] She Stoops to Conquer 
 
 that screen, you shall hear him declare his passion to 
 
 me in person. 
 SIR CHARLES. Agreed. And if I find him what you 
 
 describe, all my happiness in him must have an end. 
 
 [Exit. 
 Miss HARD. And if you don't find him what I 
 
 describe I fear my happiness must never have a 
 
 beginning. [Exeunt. 
 
 Scene changes to the back of the garden. 
 
 Enter HASTINGS. 
 
 HAST. What an idiot am I, to wait here for a fellow 
 who probably takes a delight in mortifying me! 
 He never intended to be punctual, and I '11 wait no 
 longer. What do I see ? It is he, and perhaps with 
 news of my Constance. 
 
 Enter TONY, booted and spattered. 
 
 HAST. My honest 'squire! I now find you a man of 
 your word. This looks like friendship. 
 
 TONY. Ay, I 'm your friend, and the best friend you 
 have in the world, if you knew but all. This riding 
 by night, by the bye, is cursedly tiresome. It has 
 shook me worse than the basket of a stage-coach. 
 
 HAST. But how? Where did you leave your fellow- 
 travellers ? Are they in safety ? Are they housed ? 
 
 TONY. Five-and-twenty miles in two hours and a 
 half is no such bad driving. The poor beasts 
 
 181 
 
She Stoops to Conquer [ACT v. 
 
 have smoked for it. Rabbit me, but I 'd rather ride 
 forty miles after a fox, than ten with such varment. 
 
 HAST. Well, but where have you left the ladies? I 
 die with impatience. 
 
 TONY. Left them? Why, where should I leave them, 
 but where I found them ? 
 
 HAST. This is a riddle. 
 
 TONY. Riddle me this, then. What 's that goes round 
 the house, and round the house, and never touches 
 the house ? 
 
 HAST. I 'm still astray. 
 
 TONY. Why, that's it, mon. I have led them astray. 
 By jingo, there 's not a pond or slough within five 
 miles of the place, but they can tell the taste of. 
 
 HAST. Ha, ha, ha ! I understand : you took them 
 in a round, while they supposed themselves going 
 forward. And so you have at last brought them 
 home again. 
 
 TONY. You shall hear. I first took them down 
 Feather-bed Lane, where we stuck fast in the mud. 
 I then rattled them crack over the stones of Up-and- 
 Down Hill I then introduced them to the gibbet, 
 on Heavy-tree Heath ; and from that with a circum- 
 bendibus, I fairly lodged them in the horse-pond at 
 the bottom of the garden. 
 
 HAST. But no accident, I hope. 
 
 TONY. No, no. Only mother is confoundedly frightened. 
 
 She thinks herself forty miles off. She 's sick of the 
 
 journey, and the cattle can scarce crawl. So, if your 
 
 own horses be ready, you may whip off with cousin, 
 
 182 
 
sc. i.] She Stoops to Conquer 
 
 and I '11 be bound that no soul here can budge a foot 
 to follow you. 
 
 HAST. My dear friend, how can I be grateful ? 
 
 TONY. Ay, now it's dear friend, noble 'squire. Just 
 now, it was all idiot, cub, and run me through the 
 guts. Confound your way of fighting, I say. After 
 we take a knock in this part of the country, we kiss 
 and be friends. But, if you had run me through the 
 guts, then I should be dead, and you might go kiss 
 the hangman. 
 
 HAST. The rebuke is just. But I must hasten to 
 relieve Miss Neville ; if you keep the old lady 
 employed, I promise to take care of the young one. 
 
 \Exit HASTINGS. 
 
 TONY. Never fear me. Here she comes. Vanish ! 
 She's got from the pond, and draggled up to the 
 waist like a mermaid. 
 
 Enter MRS. HARDCASTLE. 
 
 MRS. HARD. Oh, Tony, I 'm killed shook battered 
 
 to death. I shall never survive it. That last jolt, 
 
 that laid us against the quickset hedge, has done my 
 
 business. 
 TONY. Alack ! mamma, it was all your own fault. You 
 
 would be for running away by night, without 
 
 knowing one inch of the way. 
 MRS. HARD. I wish we were at home again. I never 
 
 met so many accidents in so short a journey. 
 
 Drenched in the mud, overturned in a ditch, stuck 
 
 183 
 
She Stoops to Conquer [ACT v. 
 
 fast in a slough, jolted to a jelly, and at last to 
 
 lose our way ! Whereabouts do you think we are, 
 
 Tony? 
 TONY. By my guess we should be upon Crackskull 
 
 Common, about forty miles from home. 
 MRS. HARD. Oh, lud ! oh, lud ! the most notorious 
 
 spot in all the country. We only want a robbery to 
 
 make a complete night on 't. 
 TONY. Don't be afraid, mamma ! don't be afraid. Two 
 
 of the five that were kept here are hanged, and the 
 
 other three may not find us. Don't be afraid. Is 
 
 that a man that 's galloping behind us ? No, it 's 
 
 only a tree. Don't be afraid. 
 MRS. HARD. The fright will certainly kill me. 
 TONY. Do you see anything like a black hat moving 
 
 behind the thicket ? 
 MRS. HARD. Oh, death ! 
 TONY. No, it 's only a cow. Don't be afraid, mamma : 
 
 don't be afraid. 
 MRS. HARD. As I 'm alive, Tony, I see a man coming 
 
 towards us. Ah, I 'm sure on 't. If he perceives us, 
 
 we are undone. 
 TONY. \Aside^\ Father-in-law, by all that's unlucky, 
 
 come to take one of his night walks. [To her.} 
 
 Ah ! it 's a highwayman, with pistols as long as my 
 
 arm. An ill-looking fellow. 
 
 MRS. HARD. Good Heaven defend us ! He ap- 
 proaches. 
 TONY. Do you hide yourself in that thicket, and leave 
 
 me to manage him. If there be any danger, I '11 
 184 
 
sc. i.] She Stoops to Conquer 
 
 cough and cry hem ! When I cough, be sure to 
 keep close. 
 
 [MRS. HARDCASTLE hides behind a tree, in the 
 back scene. 
 
 Enter HARDCASTLE. 
 
 HARD. I 'm mistaken, or I heard voices of people in 
 want of help. Oh, Tony, is that you ? I did not 
 expect you so soon back. Are your mother and her 
 charge in safety? 
 
 TONY. Very safe, sir, at my Aunt Pedigree's. Hem I 
 
 MRS. HARD. [From behind.] Ah, death ! I find 
 there's danger. 
 
 HARD. Forty miles in three hours ; sure that 's too 
 much, my youngster. 
 
 TONY. Stout horses and willing minds make short 
 journey, as they say. Hem ! 
 
 MRS. HARD. [From behind.] Sure he'll do the dear 
 boy no harm ! 
 
 HARD. But I heard a voice here ; I shall be glad to 
 know from whence it came. 
 
 TONY. It was I, sir ; talking to myself, sir. I was 
 saying, that forty miles in three hours was very 
 good going hem ! As, to be sure, it was hem ! I 
 have got a sort of cold by being out in the air. 
 We '11 go in, if you please hem ! 
 
 HARD. But if you talked to yourself, you did not 
 answer yourself. I am certain I heard two voices, 
 and am resolved [raising his voice] to find the other 
 out. 
 
 2 A 185 
 
She Stoops to Conquer [ACT v. 
 
 MRS. HARD. [From behind.'] Oh ! he 's coming to 
 find me out. Oh ! 
 
 TONY. What need you go, sir, if I tell you hem ! 
 I '11 lay down my life for the truth hem ! I '11 tell 
 you all, sir. [Detaining him. 
 
 HARD. I tell you, I will not be detained. I insist on 
 seeing. It 's in vain to expect I '11 believe you. 
 
 MRS. HARD. [Running forward from behind.'] Oh, 
 lud, he '11 murder my poor boy, my darling 1 Here, 
 good gentleman, whet your rage upon me. Take 
 my money, my life, but spare that young gentleman ; 
 spare my child, if you have any mercy. 
 
 HARD. My wife ! as I 'm a Christian. From whence 
 can she come, or what does she mean ? 
 
 MRS. HARD. [Kneeling.] Take compassion on us, 
 good Mr. Highwayman. Take our money, our 
 watches, all we have ; but spare our lives. We will 
 never bring you to justice ; indeed, we won't, good 
 Mr. Highwayman. 
 
 HARD. I believe the woman's out of her senses. 
 What ! Dorothy, don't you know me ? 
 
 MRS. HARD. Mr. Hardcastle, as I 'm alive ! My fears 
 blinded me. But who, my dear, could have 
 expected to meet you here, in this frightful place, 
 so far from home? What has brought you to 
 follow us ? 
 
 HARD. Sure, Dorothy, you have not lost your wits? 
 
 So far from home, when you are within forty yards 
 
 of your own door? [To him.] This is one of your 
 
 old tricks, you graceless rogue you. [To her.] 
 
 1 86 
 
sc. i.] She Stoops to Conquer 
 
 Don't you know the gate, and the mulberry 
 
 tree? and don't you remember the horse-pond, my 
 
 dear? 
 MRS. HARD. Yes, I shall remember the horse-pond 
 
 as long as I live : I have caught my death in it. 
 
 [To TONY.] And is it to you, you graceless varlet, I 
 
 owe all this ? I '11 teach you to abuse your mother, 
 
 I will. 
 TONY. Ecod, mother, all the parish says you have 
 
 spoiled me, and so you may take the fruits on 't. 
 MRS. HARD. I '11 spoil you, I will. 
 
 \Follows him off the stage. Exit. 
 HARD. There 's morality, however, in his reply. \_Exit. 
 
 Enter HASTINGS and Miss NEVILLE. 
 
 HAST. My dear Constance, why will you deliberate 
 thus? If we delay a moment, all is lost for ever. 
 Pluck up a little resolution, and we shall soon be 
 out of the reach of her malignity. 
 
 Miss NEV. I find it impossible. My spirits are so 
 sunk with the agitations I have suffered, that I am 
 unable to face any new danger. Two or three years' 
 patience will at last crown us with happiness. 
 
 HAST. Such a tedious delay is worse than inconstancy. 
 Let us fly, my charmer. Let us date our happiness 
 from this very moment. Perish fortune ! Love 
 and content will increase what we possess, beyond 
 a monarch's revenue. Let me prevail. 
 
 Miss NEV. No, Mr. Hastings ; no. Prudence once 
 
She Stoops to Conquer [ACT v. 
 
 more comes to my relief, and I will obey its dictates. 
 
 In the moment of passion, fortune may be despised ; 
 
 but it ever produces a lasting repentance. I 'm 
 
 resolved to apply to Mr. Hardcastle's compassion 
 
 and justice for redress. 
 HAST. But though he had the will, he has not the 
 
 power to relieve you. 
 Miss NEV. But he has influence, and upon that I am 
 
 resolved to rely. 
 HAST. I have no hopes. But since you persist, I must 
 
 reluctantly obey you. {Exeunt. 
 
 Scene changes. 
 
 Enter SIR CHARLES and Miss HARDCASTLE. 
 
 SIR CHARLES. What a situation am I in ! If what 
 you say appears, I shall then find a guilty son. If 
 what he says be true, I shall then lose one that, of 
 all others, I most wished for a daughter. 
 
 Miss HARD. I am proud of your approbation, and to 
 show I merit it, if you place yourselves as I directed, 
 you shall hear his explicit declaration. But he 
 comes. 
 
 SIR CHARLES. I '11 to your father, and keep him to the 
 appointment. \_Exit SIR CHARLES. 
 
 Enter MARLOW. 
 
 MARL. Though prepared for setting out, I come once 
 more to take leave ; nor did I, till this moment, 
 know the pain I feel in this separation. 
 1 88 
 
sc. i.] She Stoops to Conquer 
 
 Miss HARD. [In her own natural manner.} I believe 
 these sufferings cannot be very great, sir, which you 
 can so easily remove. A day or two longer, perhaps, 
 might lessen your uneasiness, by showing the little 
 value of what you now think proper to regret. 
 
 MARL. {.Aside.} This girl every moment improves 
 upon me. [To her.} It must not be, madam. I 
 have already trifled too long with my heart. My 
 very pride begins to submit to my passion. The 
 disparity of education and fortune, the anger of a 
 parent, and the contempt of my equals, begin to lose 
 their weight, and nothing can restore me to myself 
 but this painful effort of resolution. 
 
 Miss HARD. Then go, sir. I '11 urge nothing more 
 to detain you. Though my family be as good as 
 hers you came down to visit, and my education, I 
 hope, not inferior, what are these advantages, with- 
 out equal affluence ? I must remain contented with 
 the slight approbation of imputed merit; I must 
 have only the mockery of your addresses, while all 
 your serious aims are fixed on fortune. 
 
 Enter HARDCASTLE and SIR CHARLES from behind. 
 
 SIR CHARLES. Here, behind this screen. 
 
 HARD. Ay, ay, make no noise. I '11 engage my Kate 
 covers him with confusion at last. 
 
 MARL. By heavens, madam, fortune was ever my 
 smallest consideration. Your beauty at first caught 
 my eye ; for who could see that without emotion ? 
 
 189 
 
She Stoops to Conquer [ACT v. 
 
 But every moment that I converse with you, steals 
 in some new grace, heightens the picture, and gives 
 it stronger expression. What at first seemed rustic 
 plainness now appears refined simplicity. What 
 seemed forward assurance now strikes me as the 
 result of courageous innocence and conscious virtue. 
 
 SIR CHARLES. What can it mean ? He amazes me ! 
 
 HARD. I told you how it would be. Hush ! 
 
 MARL. I am now determined to stay, madam ; and I 
 have too good an opinion of my father's discernment, 
 when he sees you, to doubt his approbation. 
 
 Miss HARD. No, Mr. Marlow, I will not, cannot 
 detain you. Do you think I could suffer a con- 
 nection in which there is the smallest room for 
 repentance ? Do you think I would take the mean 
 advantage of a transient passion, to load you with 
 confusion ? Do you think I could ever relish that 
 happiness which was acquired by lessening yours ? 
 
 MARL. By all that's good, I can have no happiness 
 but what's in your power to grant me. Nor shall 
 I ever feel repentance, but in not having seen your 
 merits before. I will stay, even contrary to your 
 wishes ; and though you should persist to shun me, 
 I will make my respectful assiduities atone for the 
 levity of my past conduct. 
 
 Miss HARD. Sir, I must entreat you '11 desist. As our 
 acquaintance began, so let it end, in indifference. 
 I might have given an hour or two to levity ; but 
 seriously, Mr. Marlow, do you think I could ever 
 submit to a connection where / must appear merce- 
 190 
 
sc. i.] She Stoops to Conquer 
 
 nary, and you imprudent? Do you think I could 
 ever catch at the confident addresses of a secure 
 admirer ? 
 
 MARL. [Kneeling.] Does this look like security? 
 Does this look like confidence ? No, madam ; every 
 moment that shows me your merit only serves to 
 increase my diffidence and confusion. Here let me 
 continue 
 
 SIR CHARLES. I can hold it no longer. Charles, 
 Charles, how hast thou deceived me ! Is this your 
 indifference, your uninteresting conversation ? 
 
 HARD. Your cold contempt your formal interview? 
 What have you to say now ? 
 
 MARL. That I 'm all amazement ! What can it mean ? 
 
 HARD. It means, that you can say and unsay things 
 at pleasure. That you can address a lady in private, 
 and deny it in public ; that you have one story for 
 us, and another for my daughter. 
 
 MARL. Daughter ! this lady your daughter ! 
 
 HARD. Yes, sir, my only daughter ; my Kate. Whose 
 else should she be ? 
 
 MARL. Oh ! 
 
 Miss HARD. Yes, sir, that very identical tall, squinting 
 lady you were pleased to take me for. [Curtseying.] 
 She that you addressed as the mild, modest, senti- 
 mental man of gravity, and the bold, forward, 
 agreeable Rattle of the ladies' club ; ha ! ha ! ha 1 
 
 MARL. Zounds, there's no bearing this; it's worse 
 than death. 
 
 Miss HARD. In which of your characters, sir, will 
 
 191 
 
x)oes f/ti's look like security? i)oes /fas look 
 like confidence? 
 
sc. i.] She Stoops to Conquer 
 
 you give us leave to address you ? As the faltering 
 gentleman, with looks on the ground, that speaks 
 just to be heard, and hates hypocrisy ; or the loud 
 confident creature, that keeps it up with Mrs. 
 Mantrap, and old Miss Biddy Buckskin, till three in 
 the morning? Ha! ha I ha! 
 
 MARL. Oh, my noisy head ! I never attempted to 
 
 be impudent yet, that I was not taken down. I 
 must be gone. 
 
 HARD. By the hand of my body, but you shall not. I 
 see it was all a mistake, and I am rejoiced to find it. 
 You shall not, sir, I tell you. I know she '11 forgive 
 you. Won't you forgive him, Kate ? We '11 all 
 forgive you. Take courage, man. 
 [They retire, she tormenting him, to the back scene. 
 
 Enter MRS. HARDCASTLE. TONY. 
 
 MRS. HARD. So, so, they 're gone off. Let them go, 
 
 I care not. 
 HARD. Who gone ? 
 MRS. HARD. My dutiful niece and her gentleman, Mr. 
 
 Hastings, from town. He who came down with our 
 
 modest visitor here. 
 SIR CHARLES. Who, my honest George Hastings ? As 
 
 worthy a fellow as lives ; and the girl could not have 
 
 made a more prudent choice. 
 HARD. Then, by the hand of my body, I 'm proud of 
 
 the connection. 
 MRS. HARD. Well, if he has taken away the lady, he 
 
 195 
 
She Stoops to Conquer [ACT v. 
 
 has not taken her fortune ; that remains in this 
 family, to console us for our loss. 
 
 HARD. Sure, Dorothy, you would not be so mer- 
 cenary. 
 
 MRS. HARD. Ay, that 's my affair, not yours. 
 
 HARD. But you know, if your son, when of age, refuses 
 to marry his cousin, her whole fortune is then at her 
 own disposal. 
 
 MRS. HARD. Ay, but he 's not of age, and she has not 
 thought proper to wait for his refusal. 
 
 Enter HASTINGS and Miss NEVILLE. 
 
 MRS. HARD. [Aside.] What I returned so soon. I 
 begin not to like it. 
 
 HAST. [To HARDCASTLE.] For my late attempt to fly 
 off with your niece, let my present confusion be my 
 punishment. We are now come back, to appeal from 
 your justice to your humanity. By her father's 
 consent, I first paid her my addresses, and our 
 passions were first founded on duty. 
 
 Miss NEV. Since his death, I have been obliged to 
 stoop to dissimulation to avoid oppression. In an 
 hour of levity, I was ready even to give up my 
 fortune to secure my choice. But I am now 
 recovered from the delusion, and hope, from your 
 tenderness, what is denied me from a nearer 
 connection. 
 
 MRS. HARD. Pshaw, pshaw! this is all but the 
 whining end of a modern novel. 
 196 
 
sc. i.] She Stoops to Conquer 
 
 HARD. Be it what it will, I 'm glad they 're come back 
 to reclaim their due. Come hither, Tony boy. 
 Do you refuse this lady's hand whom I now offer 
 you? 
 
 TONY. What signifies my refusing? You know I 
 can't refuse her till I 'm of age, father. 
 
 HARD. While I thought concealing your age, boy, 
 was likely to conduce to your improvement, I 
 concurred with your mother's desire to keep it 
 secret. But since I find she turns it to a wrong use, 
 I must now declare you have been of age these three 
 months. 
 
 TONY. Of age 1 Am I of age, father ? 
 
 HARD. Above three months. 
 
 TONY. Then you '11 see the first use I '11 make of my 
 liberty. [Taking Miss NEVILLE'S hand] Witness all 
 men by these presents, that I, Anthony Lumpkin, 
 Esquire, of blank place, refuse you, Constantia 
 Neville, spinster, of no place at all, for my true and 
 lawful wife. So Constantia Neville may marry 
 whom she pleases, and Tony Lumpkin is his own 
 man again. 
 
 SIR CHARLES. Oh, brave 'squire ! 
 
 HAST. My worthy friend ! 
 
 MRS. HARD. My undutiful offspring ! 
 
 MARL. Joy, my dear George ; I give you joy sincerely. 
 And could I prevail upon my little tyrant here to be 
 less arbitrary, I should be the happiest man alive, if 
 you would return me the favour. 
 
 HAST. [To Miss HARDCASTLE.] Come, madam, you 
 
 197 
 
She Stoops to Conquer [ACT v. 
 
 are now driven to the very last scene of all your 
 contrivances. I know you like him, I 'm sure he 
 loves you, and you must and shall have him. 
 HARD. {Joining their hands.} And I say so too. And, 
 Mr. Marlow, if she makes as good a wife as she 
 has a daughter, I don't believe you'll ever repent 
 your bargain. So now to supper. To-morrow 
 we shall gather all the poor of the parish about 
 us ; and the mistakes of the night shall be crowned 
 with a merry morning. So, boy, take her; and 
 as you have been mistaken in the mistress, my 
 wish is, that you may never be mistaken in the 
 wife. 
 
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