She Stoops to Conquer

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 forever. 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 tête-à-tête of our own. Exeunt Hastings with Miss Neville. 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 forever. 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. Miss Hardcastle Not in the least, sir; there’s something so agreeable and spirited in your manner, such life and force⁠—pray, sir, go on. Marlow 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 Hardcastle I agree with you entirely; a want of courage upon some occasions assumes the appearance of ignorance, and betrays us when we most want to excel. I beg you’ll proceed. Marlow Yes, madam. Morally speaking, madam⁠—But I see Miss Neville expecting us in the next room. I would not intrude for the world. Miss Hardcastle I protest, sir, I never was more agreeably entertained in all my life. Pray go on. Marlow Yes, madam, I was⁠—But she beckons us to join her. Madam, shall I do myself the honour to attend you? Miss Hardcastle Well, then, I’ll follow. Marlow Aside. This pretty smooth dialogue has done for me. Exit. Miss Hardcastle Alone. 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, faith, 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 Neville I hope, cousin, one may speak to one’s own relations, and not be to blame. 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’ll keep your distance, I want no nearer relationship. She follows, coquetting him to the back scene. Mrs. Hardcastle Well! I vow, Mr. Hastings, you are very entertaining. There’s nothing in the world I love