Masters of the Theatre

by Delphi Classics

  MARLOW. Happy man! You have talents and art to captivate any woman. I’m doom’d 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 above the reach of a milliner’s ‘prentice, or one of the duchesses of Drury-lane. Pshaw! this fellow here to interrupt us.

  Enter HARDCASTLE.

  HARDCASTLE. Gentlemen, once more you are heartily welcome. Which is Mr. Marlow? Sir, you are heartily welcome. It’s not my way, you see, to receive my friends with my back to the fire. I like give them a hearty reception in the old style at my gate. I like to see their horses and trunks taken care of.

  MARLOW. (Aside.) He has got our names from the servants already. (To him.) We approve your caution and hospitality, sir. (To HASTINGS.) I have been thinking, George, of changing our travelling dresses in the morning. I am grown confoundedly ashamed of mine.

  HARDCASTLE. I beg, Mr. Marlow, you’ll use no ceremony in this house.

  HASTINGS. I fancy, Charles, you’re right: the first blow is half the battle. I intend opening the campaign with the white and gold.

  HARDCASTLE. Mr. Marlow — Mr. Hastings — gentlemen — pray be under no constraint in this house. This is Liberty-hall, gentlemen. You may do just as you please here.

  MARLOW. 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.

  HARDCASTLE. Your talking of a retreat, Mr. Marlow, puts me in mind of the Duke of Marlborough, when we went to besiege Denain. He first summoned the garrison ——

  MARLOW. Don’t you think the ventre d’or waistcoat will do with the plain brown?

  HARDCASTLE. He first summoned the garrison, which might consist of about five thousand men ——

  HASTINGS. I think not: brown and yellow mix but very poorly.

  HARDCASTLE. I say, gentlemen, as I was telling you, be summoned the garrison, which might consist of about five thousand men ——

  MARLOW. The girls like finery.

  HARDCASTLE. 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’ll pawn my dukedom, says he, but I take that garrison without spilling a drop of blood. So ——

  MARLOW. What, my good friend, if you gave us a glass of punch in the mean time; it would help us to carry on the siege with vigour.

  HARDCASTLE. Punch, sir! (Aside.) This is the most unaccountable kind of modesty I ever met with.

  MARLOW. Yes, sir, punch. A glass of warm punch, after our journey, will be comfortable. This is Liberty-hall, you know.

  HARDCASTLE. Here’s a cup, sir.

  MARLOW. (Aside.) So this fellow, in his Liberty-hall, will only let us have just what he pleases.

  HARDCASTLE. (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.]

  MARLOW. (Aside.) A very impudent fellow this! but he’s a character, and I’ll humour him a little. Sir, my service to you. [Drinks.]

  HASTINGS. (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.

  MARLOW. 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.

  HARDCASTLE. No, sir, I have long given that work over. Since our betters have hit upon the expedient of electing each other, there is no business “for us that sell ale.”

  HASTINGS. So, then, you have no turn for politics, I find.

  HARDCASTLE. 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.

  HASTINGS. So that with eating above stairs, and drinking below, with receiving your friends within, and amusing them without, you lead a good pleasant bustling life of it.

  HARDCASTLE. I do stir about a great deal, that’s certain. Half the differences of the parish are adjusted in this very parlour.

  MARLOW. (After drinking.) And you have an argument in your cup, old gentleman, better than any in Westminster-hall.

  HARDCASTLE. Ay, young gentleman, that, and a little philosophy.

  MARLOW. (Aside.) Well, this is the first time I ever heard of an innkeeper’s philosophy.

  HASTINGS. 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.]

  HARDCASTLE. Good, very good, thank you; ha! ha! Your generalship puts me in mind of Prince Eugene, when he fought the Turks at the battle of Belgrade. You shall hear.

  MARLOW. Instead of the battle of Belgrade, I believe it’s almost time to talk about supper. What has your philosophy got in the house for supper?

  HARDCASTLE. For supper, sir! (Aside.) Was ever such a request to a man in his own house?

  MARLOW. Yes, sir, supper, sir; I begin to feel an appetite. I shall make devilish work to-night in the larder, I promise you.

  HARDCASTLE. (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.

  MARLOW. You do, do you?

  HARDCASTLE. Entirely. By the bye, I believe they are in actual consultation upon what’s for supper this moment in the kitchen.

  MARLOW. 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 chose to regulate my own supper. Let the cook be called. No offence I hope, sir.

  HARDCASTLE. O 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.

  HASTINGS. Let’s see your list of the larder then. I ask it as a favour. I always match my appetite to my bill of fare.

  MARLOW. (To HARDCASTLE, who looks at them with surprise.) Sir, he’s very right, and it’s my way too.

  HARDCASTLE. 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.

  HASTINGS. (Aside.) All upon the high rope! 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.

  MARLOW. (Perusing.) What’s here? For the first course; for the second course; for the dessert. The devil, sir, do you think we have brought down a whole Joiners’ Company, or the corporation of Bedford, to eat up such a supper? Two or three little things, clean and comfortable, will do.

  HASTINGS. But let’s hear it.

  MARLOW. (Reading.) For the first course, at the top, a pig and prune sauce.

  HASTINGS. Damn your pig, I say.

  MARLOW. And damn your prune sauce, say I.

  HARDCASTLE. And yet, gentlemen, to men that are hungry, pig with prune sauce is very good eating.

  MARLOW. At the bottom, a calf’s tongue and brains.

  HASTINGS. Let your brains be knocked out, my good sir, I don’t like them.

  MARLOW. Or you may clap them on a plate by themselves. I do.

  HARDCASTLE. (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?

  MARLOW. Item, a pork pie, a boiled rabbit and sausages, a Florentine, a shaking pudding, and a dish of tiff — taff — taffety cream.

  HASTINGS. Confound your made dishes; I shall be as 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.

  HARDCASTLE. I’m sorry, gentlemen, that I have nothing you like, but if there be anything you have a particular fancy to ——

  MARLOW. Why, really, 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.

  HARDCASTLE. I entreat you’ll leave that to me. You shall not stir a step.

  MARLOW. Leave that to you! I protest, sir, you must excuse me, I always look to these things myself.

  HARDCASTLE. I must insist, sir, you’ll make yourself easy on that head.

  MARLOW. You see I’m resolved on it. (Aside.) A very troublesome fellow this, as I ever met with.

  HARDCASTLE. Well, sir, I’m resolved at least to attend you. (Aside.) This may be modern modesty, but I never saw anything look so like old-fashioned impudence. [Exeunt MARLOW and HARDCASTLE.]

  HASTINGS. (Alone.) So I find this fellow’s civilities begin to grow troublesome. But who can be angry at those assiduities which are meant to please him? Ha! what do I see? Miss Neville, by all that’s happy!

  Enter MISS NEVILLE.

  MISS NEVILLE. My dear Hastings! To what unexpected good fortune, to what accident, am I to ascribe this happy meeting?

  HASTINGS. Rather let me ask the same question, as I could never have hoped to meet my dearest Constance at an inn.

  MISS NEVILLE. An inn! sure you mistake: my aunt, my guardian, lives here. What could induce you to think this house an inn?

  HASTINGS. 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 NEVILLE. Certainly it must be one of my hopeful cousin’s tricks, of whom you have heard me talk so often; ha! ha! ha!

  HASTINGS. He whom your aunt intends for you? he of whom I have such just apprehensions?

  MISS NEVILLE. 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.

  HASTINGS. 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’ll soon be 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 NEVILLE. 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’m very near succeeding. The instant they are put into my possession, you shall find me ready to make them and myself yours.

  HASTINGS. Perish the baubles! Your person is all I desire. In the mean time, 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 NEVILLE. But how shall we keep him in the deception? Miss Hardcastle is just returned from walking; what if we still continue to deceive him? —— This, this way —— [They confer.]

  Enter MARLOW.

  MARLOW. The assiduities of these good people teaze 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. They talk of coming to sup with us too; and then, I suppose, we are to run the gantlet through all the rest of the family. — What have we got here?

  HASTINGS. My dear Charles! Let me congratulate you! — The most fortunate accident! — Who do you think is just alighted?

  MARLOW. Cannot guess.

  HASTINGS. Our mistresses, boy, Miss Hardcastle and Miss Neville. Give me leave to introduce Miss Constance Neville to your acquaintance. Happening to dine in the neighbourhood, they called on their return to take fresh horses here. Miss Hardcastle has just stept into the next room, and will be back in an instant. Wasn’t it lucky? eh!

  MARLOW. (Aside.) I have been mortified enough of all conscience, and here comes something to complete my embarrassment.

  HASTINGS. Well, but wasn’t it the most fortunate thing in the world?

  MARLOW. 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 NEVILLE. By no means, sir. Your ceremony will displease 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.

  MARLOW. O! the devil! 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’ll take courage. Hem!

  HASTINGS. Pshaw, man! it’s but the first plunge, and all’s over. She’s but a woman, you know.

  MARLOW. And, of all women, she that I dread most to encounter.

  Enter MISS HARDCASTLE, as returned from walking, a bonnet, etc.

  HASTINGS. (Introducing them.) 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 HARDCASTLE. (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.

  MARLOW. 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!

  HASTINGS. (To him.) You never spoke better in your whole life. Keep it up, and I’ll insure you the victory.

  MISS HARDCASTLE. I’m afraid you flatter, sir. You that have seen so much of the finest company, can find little entertainment in an obscure corner of the country.

  MARLOW. (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 NEVILLE. But that, I am told, is the way to enjoy it at last.

  HASTINGS. (To him.) Cicero never spoke better. Once more, and you are confirmed in assurance for ever.

  MARLOW. (To him.) Hem! Stand by me, then, and when I’m down, throw in a word or two, to set me up again.

  MISS HARDCASTLE. An observer, like you, upon life were, I fear, disagreeably employed, since you must have had much more to censure than to approve.

  MARLOW. Pardon me, madam. I was always willing to be amused. The folly of most people is rather an object of mirth than uneasiness.

  HASTINGS. (To him.) Bravo, bravo. Never spoke so well in your whole life. Well, 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.

  MARLOW. 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?

  HASTINGS. Our presence will but spoil conversation, so we’ll retire to the next room. (To him.) You don’t consider, man, that we are to manage a little tete-a-tete of our own. [Exeunt.]

  MISS
HARDCASTLE. (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.

  MARLOW. (Relapsing into timidity.) Pardon me, madam, I — I — I — as yet have studied — only — to — deserve them.

  MISS HARDCASTLE. And that, some say, is the very worst way to obtain them.

  MARLOW. 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 HARDCASTLE. 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.

  MARLOW. 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 HARDCASTLE. I understand you, sir. There must be some, who, wanting a relish for refined pleasures, pretend to despise what they are incapable of tasting.

  MARLOW. My meaning, madam, but infinitely better expressed. And I can’t help observing —— a ——

  MISS HARDCASTLE. (Aside.) Who could ever suppose this fellow impudent upon some occasions? (To him.) You were going to observe, sir ——

  MARLOW. I was observing, madam — I protest, madam, I forget what I was going to observe.

  MISS HARDCASTLE. (Aside.) I vow and so do I. (To him.) You were observing, sir, that in this age of hypocrisy — something about hypocrisy, sir.

  MARLOW. Yes, madam. In this age of hypocrisy there are few who upon strict inquiry do not — a — a — a —

  MISS HARDCASTLE. I understand you perfectly, sir.

  MARLOW. (Aside.) Egad! and that’s more than I do myself.

  MISS HARDCASTLE. 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.

  MARLOW. True, madam; those who have most virtue in their mouths, have least of it in their bosoms. But I’m sure I tire you, madam.