Chapter: Enter HASTINGS and MISS NEVILLE.


HASTINGS.  You surprise me; Sir Charles Marlow expected here this
night!  Where have you had your information?

MISS NEVILLE.  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.

HASTINGS.  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 NEVILLE.  The jewels, I hope, are safe?

HASTINGS.  Yes, yes, I have sent them to Marlow, who keeps the keys of
our baggage.  In the mean time, I'll 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 NEVILLE.  Well! success attend you.  In the mean time I'll go and
amuse my aunt with the old pretence of a violent passion for my cousin.
[Exit.]


Enter MARLOW, followed by a Servant.


MARLOW.  I wonder what Hastings could mean by sending 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?

SERVANT.  Yes, your honour.

MARLOW.  She said she'd keep it safe, did she?

SERVANT.  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.]

MARLOW.  Ha! ha! ha!  They're safe, however.  What an unaccountable set
of beings have we got amongst!  This little bar-maid 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.


HASTINGS.  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!

MARLOW.  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.

HASTINGS.  Some women, you mean.  But what success has your honour's
modesty been crowned with now, that it grows so insolent upon us?

MARLOW.  Didn't you see the tempting, brisk, lovely little thing, that
runs about the house with a bunch of keys to its girdle?

HASTINGS.  Well, and what then?

MARLOW.  She's mine, you rogue you.  Such fire, such motion, such
eyes, such lips; but, egad! she would not let me kiss them though.

HASTINGS.  But are you so sure, so very sure of her?

MARLOW.  Why, man, she talked of showing me her work above stairs, and
I am to improve the pattern.

HASTINGS.  But how can you, Charles, go about to rob a woman of her
honour?

MARLOW.  Pshaw! pshaw!  We all know the honour of the bar-maid of an
inn.  I don't intend to rob her, take my word for it; there's nothing
in this house I shan't honestly pay for.

HASTINGS.  I believe the girl has virtue.

MARLOW.  And if she has, I should be the last man in the world that
would attempt to corrupt it.

HASTINGS.  You have taken care, I hope, of the casket I sent you to
lock up?  Is it in safety?

MARLOW.  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----

HASTINGS.  What?

MARLOW.  I have sent it to the landlady to keep for you.

HASTINGS.  To the landlady!

MARLOW.  The landlady.

HASTINGS.  You did?

MARLOW.  I did.  She's to be answerable for its forthcoming, you know.

HASTINGS.  Yes, she'll bring it forth with a witness.

MARLOW.  Wasn't I right?  I believe you'll allow that I acted
prudently upon this occasion.

HASTINGS.  (Aside.)  He must not see my uneasiness.

MARLOW.  You seem a little disconcerted though, methinks.  Sure
nothing has happened?

HASTINGS.  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.

MARLOW.  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!

HASTINGS.  He! he! he!  They're safe, however.

MARLOW.  As a guinea in a miser's purse.

HASTINGS.  (Aside.)  So now all hopes of fortune are at an end, and we
must set off without it.  (To him.)  Well, Charles, I'll leave you to
your meditations on the pretty bar-maid, and, he! he! he! may you be as
successful for yourself, as you have been for me!  [Exit.]

MARLOW.  Thank ye, George: I ask no more.  Ha! ha! ha!


Enter HARDCASTLE.


HARDCASTLE.  I no longer know my own house.  It's turned all
topsy-turvy.  His servants have got drunk already.  I'll bear it no
longer; and yet, from my respect for his father, I'll be calm.  (To
him.)  Mr. Marlow, your servant.  I'm your very humble servant.
(Bowing low.)

MARLOW.  Sir, your humble servant.  (Aside.)  What's to be the wonder
now?

HARDCASTLE.  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?

MARLOW.  I do from my soul, sir.  I don't want much entreaty.  I
generally make my father's son welcome wherever he goes.

HARDCASTLE.  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.

MARLOW.  I protest, my very good sir, that is 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.)  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.

HARDCASTLE.  Then they had your orders for what they do?  I'm
satisfied!

MARLOW.  They had, I assure you.  You shall hear from one of
themselves.


Enter Servant, drunk.


MARLOW.  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?

HARDCASTLE.  (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 as another man.  I'll drink for
no man before supper, sir, damme!  Good liquor will sit upon a good
supper, but a good supper will not sit upon----hiccup----on my
conscience, sir.

MARLOW.  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 devil soused in a beer-barrel.

HARDCASTLE.  Zounds! he'll drive me distracted, if I contain myself any
longer.  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.

MARLOW.  Leave your house!----Sure you jest, my good friend!  What?
when I'm doing what I can to please you.

HARDCASTLE.  I tell you, sir, you don't please me; so I desire you'll
leave my house.

MARLOW.  Sure you cannot be serious?  At this time o' night, and such a
night?  You only mean to banter me.

HARDCASTLE.  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.

MARLOW.  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, curse me; never in my whole life before.

HARDCASTLE.  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
house is mine, sir."  By all that's impudent, it makes me laugh.  Ha!
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
candlesticks, and there's a fire-screen, and here's a pair of
brazen-nosed bellows; perhaps you may take a fancy to them?

MARLOW.  Bring me your bill, sir; bring me your bill, and let's make no
more words about it.

HARDCASTLE.  There are a set of prints, too.  What think you of the
Rake's Progress, for your own apartment?

MARLOW.  Bring me your bill, I say; and I'll leave you and your
infernal house directly.

HARDCASTLE.  Then there's a mahogany table that you may see your own
face in.

MARLOW.  My bill, I say.

HARDCASTLE.  I had forgot the great chair for your own particular
slumbers, after a hearty meal.

MARLOW.  Zounds! bring me my bill, I say, and let's hear no more on't.

HARDCASTLE.  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.]

MARLOW.  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-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 HARDCASTLE.  Let it be short, then.  I'm in a hurry.  (Aside.)  I
believe be begins to find out his mistake.  But it's too soon quite to
undeceive him.

MARLOW.  Pray, child, answer me one question.  What are you, and what
may your business in this house be?

MISS HARDCASTLE.  A relation of the family, sir.

MARLOW.  What, a poor relation.

MISS HARDCASTLE.  Yes, sir.  A poor relation, appointed to keep the
keys, and to see that the guests want nothing in my power to give them.

MARLOW.  That is, you act as the bar-maid of this inn.

MISS HARDCASTLE.  Inn!  O law----what brought that in your head?  One
of the best families in the country keep an inn--Ha! ha! ha! old Mr.
Hardcastle's house an inn!

MARLOW.  Mr. Hardcastle's house!  Is this Mr. Hardcastle's house,
child?

MISS HARDCASTLE.  Ay, sure!  Whose else should it be?

MARLOW.  So then, all's out, and I have been damnably imposed on.  O,
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!  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 bar-maid.

MISS HARDCASTLE.  Dear me! dear me!  I'm sure there's nothing in my
BEHAVIOUR to put me on a level with one of that stamp.

MARLOW.  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 HARDCASTLE.  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 if people said anything amiss, since I have no
fortune but my character.

MARLOW.  (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, makes an honourable connexion
impossible; and I can never harbour a thought of seducing simplicity
that trusted in my honour, of bringing ruin upon one whose only fault
was being too lovely.

MISS HARDCASTLE.  (Aside.)  Generous man!  I now begin to admire him.
(To him.)  But I am sure my family is as good as Miss Hardcastle's; and
though I'm poor, that's no great misfortune to a contented mind; and,
until this moment, I never thought that it was bad to want fortune.

MARLOW.  And why now, my pretty simplicity?

MISS HARDCASTLE.  Because it puts me at a distance from one that, if I
had a thousand pounds, I would give it all to.

MARLOW.  (Aside.)  This simplicity bewitches me, so that if I stay, I'm
undone.  I must make one bold effort, and leave her.  (To her.)  Your
partiality in my favour, my dear, touches me most sensibly: and were I
to live for myself alone, I could easily fix my choice.  But I owe too
much to the opinion of the world, too much to the authority of a
father; so that--I can scarcely speak it--it affects me.  Farewell.
[Exit.]

MISS HARDCASTLE.  I never knew half his merit till now.  He shall not
go, if I have power or art to detain him.  I'll still preserve the
character in which I STOOPED TO CONQUER; but will undeceive my papa,
who perhaps may laugh him out of his resolution.  [Exit.]


Enter Tony and MISS NEVILLE.


TONY.  Ay, you may steal for yourselves the next time.  I have done my
duty.  She has got the jewels again, that's a sure thing; but she
believes it was all a mistake of the servants.

MISS NEVILLE.  But, my dear cousin, sure you won't forsake us in this
distress?  If she in the least suspects that I am going off, I shall
certainly be locked up, or sent to my aunt Pedigree's, which is ten
times worse.

TONY.  To be sure, aunts of all kinds are damned bad things.  But what
can I do?  I have got you a pair of horses that will fly like
Whistle-jacket; and I'm sure you can't say but I have courted you
nicely before her face.  Here she comes, we must court a bit or two
more, for fear she should suspect us.  [They retire, and seem to
fondle.]


Enter MRS. HARDCASTLE.


MRS. HARDCASTLE.  Well, I was greatly fluttered, to be sure.  But my
son tells me it was all a mistake of the servants.  I shan't be easy,
however, till they are fairly married, and then let her keep her own
fortune.  But what do I see? fondling together, as I'm alive.  I never
saw Tony so sprightly before.  Ah! have I caught you, my pretty doves?
What, billing, exchanging stolen glances and broken murmurs?  Ah!

TONY.  As for murmurs, mother, we grumble a little now and then, to be
sure.  But there's no love lost between us.

MRS. HARDCASTLE.  A mere sprinkling, Tony, upon the flame, only to make
it burn brighter.

MISS NEVILLE.  Cousin Tony promises to give us more of his company at
home.  Indeed, he shan't leave us any more.  It won't leave us, cousin
Tony, will it?

TONY.  O! it's a pretty creature.  No, I'd sooner leave my horse in a
pound, than leave you when you smile upon one so.  Your laugh makes you
so becoming.

MISS NEVILLE.  Agreeable cousin!  Who can help admiring that natural
humour, that pleasant, broad, red, thoughtless (patting his cheek)--ah!
it's a bold face.

MRS. HARDCASTLE.  Pretty innocence!

TONY.  I'm sure I always loved cousin Con.'s hazle eyes, and her
pretty long fingers, that she twists this way and that over the
haspicholls, like a parcel of bobbins.

MRS. HARDCASTLE.  Ah! he would charm the bird from the tree.  I was
never so happy before.  My boy takes after his father, poor Mr.
Lumpkin, exactly.  The jewels, my dear Con., shall be yours
incontinently.  You shall have them.  Isn't he a sweet boy, my dear?
You shall be married to-morrow, and we'll put off the rest of his
education, like Dr. Drowsy's sermons, to a fitter opportunity.


Enter DIGGORY.


DIGGORY.  Where's the 'squire?  I have got a letter for your worship.

TONY.  Give it to my mamma.  She reads all my letters first.

DIGGORY.  I had orders to deliver it into your own hands.

TONY.  Who does it come from?

DIGGORY.  Your worship mun ask that o' the letter itself.

TONY.  I could wish to know though (turning the letter, and gazing on
it).

MISS NEVILLE.  (Aside.)  Undone! undone!  A letter to him from
Hastings.  I know the hand.  If my aunt sees it, we are ruined for
ever.  I'll keep her employed a little if I can.  (To MRS.
HARDCASTLE.)  But I have not told you, madam, of my cousin's smart
answer just now to Mr. Marlow.  We so laughed.--You must know,
madam.--This way a little, for he must not hear us.  [They confer.]

TONY.  (Still gazing.)  A damned cramp piece of penmanship, as ever I
saw in my life.  I can read your print hand very well.  But here are
such handles, and shanks, and dashes, that one can scarce tell the head
from the tail.--"To Anthony Lumpkin, Esquire."  It's very odd, I can
read the outside of my letters, where my own name is, well enough; but
when I come to open it, it's all----buzz.  That's hard, very hard; for
the inside of the letter is always the cream of the correspondence.

MRS. HARDCASTLE.  Ha! ha! ha!  Very well, very well.  And so my son was
too hard for the philosopher.

MISS NEVILLE.  Yes, madam; but you must hear the rest, madam.  A
little more this way, or he may hear us.  You'll hear how he puzzled
him again.

MRS. HARDCASTLE.  He seems strangely puzzled now himself, methinks.

TONY.  (Still gazing.)  A damned up and down hand, as if it was
disguised in liquor.--(Reading.)  Dear Sir,--ay, that's that.  Then
there's an M, and a T, and an S, but whether the next be an izzard, or
an R, confound me, I cannot tell.

MRS. HARDCASTLE.  What's that, my dear?  Can I give you any
assistance?

MISS NEVILLE.  Pray, aunt, let me read it.  Nobody reads a cramp hand
better than I. (Twitching the letter from him.)  Do you know who it is
from?

TONY.  Can't tell, except from Dick Ginger, the feeder.

MISS NEVILLE.  Ay, so it is.  (Pretending to read.)  Dear 'Squire,
hoping that you're in health, as I am at this present.  The gentlemen
of the Shake-bag club has cut the gentlemen of Goose-green quite out of
feather.  The odds--um--odd battle--um--long fighting--um--here, here,
it's all about cocks and fighting; it's of no consequence; here, put it
up, put it up.  (Thrusting the crumpled letter upon him.)

TONY.  But I tell you, miss, it's of all the consequence in the world.
I would not lose the rest of it for a guinea.  Here, mother, do you
make it out.  Of no consequence!  (Giving MRS. HARDCASTLE the letter.)

MRS. HARDCASTLE.  How's this?--(Reads.)  "Dear 'Squire, I'm now
waiting for Miss Neville, with a post-chaise and pair, at the bottom of
the garden, but I find my horses yet unable to perform the journey.  I
expect you'll assist us with a pair of fresh horses, as you promised.
Dispatch is necessary, as the HAG (ay, the hag), your mother, will
otherwise suspect us!  Yours, Hastings."  Grant me patience.  I shall
run distracted!  My rage chokes me.

MISS NEVILLE.  I hope, madam, you'll suspend your resentment for a few
moments, and not impute to me any impertinence, or sinister design,
that belongs to another.

MRS. HARDCASTLE.  (Curtseying very low.)  Fine spoken, madam, you are
most miraculously polite and engaging, and quite the very pink of
courtesy and circumspection, madam.  (Changing her tone.)  And you, you
great ill-fashioned oaf, with scarce sense enough to keep your mouth
shut: were you, too, joined against me?  But I'll defeat all your plots
in a moment.  As for you, madam, since you have got a pair of fresh
horses ready, it would be cruel to disappoint them.  So, if you please,
instead of running away with your spark, prepare, this very moment, to
run off with ME.  Your old aunt Pedigree will keep you secure, I'll
warrant me.  You too, sir, may mount your horse, and guard us upon the
way.  Here, Thomas, Roger, Diggory!  I'll show you, that I wish you
better than you do yourselves.  [Exit.]

MISS NEVILLE.  So now I'm completely ruined.

TONY.  Ay, that's a sure thing.

MISS NEVILLE.  What better could be expected from being connected with
such a stupid fool,--and after all the nods and signs I made him?

TONY.  By the laws, miss, it was your own cleverness, and not my
stupidity, that did your business.  You were so nice and so busy with
your Shake-bags and Goose-greens, that I thought you could never be
making believe.


Enter HASTINGS.


HASTINGS.  So, sir, I find by my servant, that you have shown my
letter, and betrayed us.  Was this well done, young gentleman?

TONY.  Here's another.  Ask miss there, who betrayed you.  Ecod, it was
her doing, not mine.


Enter MARLOW.


MARLOW.  So I have been finely used here among you.  Rendered
contemptible, driven into ill manners, despised, insulted, laughed at.

TONY.  Here's another.  We shall have old Bedlam broke loose
presently.

MISS NEVILLE.  And there, sir, is the gentleman to whom we all owe
every obligation.

MARLOW.  What can I say to him, a mere boy, an idiot, whose ignorance
and age are a protection?

HASTINGS.  A poor contemptible booby, that would but disgrace
correction.

MISS NEVILLE.  Yet with cunning and malice enough to make himself
merry with all our embarrassments.

HASTINGS.  An insensible cub.

MARLOW.  Replete with tricks and mischief.

TONY.  Baw! damme, but I'll fight you both, one after the
other----with baskets.

MARLOW.  As for him, he's below resentment.  But your conduct, Mr.
Hastings, requires an explanation.  You knew of my mistakes, yet would
not undeceive me.

HASTINGS.  Tortured as I am with my own disappointments, is this a time
for explanations?  It is not friendly, Mr. Marlow.

MARLOW.  But, sir----

MISS NEVILLE.  Mr. Marlow, we never kept on your mistake till it was
too late to undeceive you.


Enter Servant.


SERVANT.  My mistress desires you'll get ready immediately, madam.  The
horses are putting to.  Your hat and things are in the next room.  We
are to go thirty miles before morning.  [Exit Servant.]

MISS NEVILLE.  Well, well: I'll come presently.

MARLOW.  (To HASTINGS.)  Was it well done, sir, to assist in rendering
me ridiculous?  To hang me out for the scorn of all my acquaintance?
Depend upon it, sir, I shall expect an explanation.

HASTINGS.  Was it well done, sir, if you're upon that subject, to
deliver what I entrusted to yourself, to the care of another sir?

MISS NEVILLE.  Mr. Hastings!  Mr. Marlow!  Why will you increase my
distress by this groundless dispute?  I implore, I entreat you----


Enter Servant.


SERVANT.  Your cloak, madam.  My mistress is impatient.  [Exit
Servant.]

MISS NEVILLE.  I come.  Pray be pacified.  If I leave you thus, I
shall die with apprehension.


Enter Servant.


SERVANT.  Your fan, muff, and gloves, madam.  The horses are waiting.

MISS NEVILLE.  O, Mr. Marlow! if you knew what a scene of constraint
and ill-nature lies before me, I'm sure it would convert your
resentment into pity.

MARLOW.  I'm so distracted with a variety of passions, that I don't
know what I do.  Forgive me, madam.  George, forgive me.  You know my
hasty temper, and should not exasperate it.

HASTINGS.  The torture of my situation is my only excuse.

MISS NEVILLE.  Well, my dear Hastings, if you have that esteem for me
that I think, that I am sure you have, your constancy for three years
will but increase the happiness of our future connexion.  If----

MRS. HARDCASTLE.  (Within.)  Miss Neville.  Constance, why Constance, I
say.

MISS NEVILLE.  I'm coming.  Well, constancy, remember, constancy is the
word.  [Exit.]

HASTINGS.  My heart! how can I support this?  To be so near happiness,
and such happiness!

MARLOW.  (To Tony.)  You see now, young gentleman, the effects of your
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'll give you
leave to take my best horse, and Bet Bouncer into the bargain.  Come
along.  My boots, ho!  [Exeunt.]

 All of Act IV takes place in Hardcastle's house. Hastings and Constance enter, bringing news that Charles Marlow is expected to visit the house that evening. Since he would surely recognize Hastings and thereby ruin the plan for elopement, the lovers know they must move with speed. Hastings has meanwhile sent the casket with jewels to Marlow for safekeeping. Before she exits, Constance says to herself that she will delude her aunt "with the old pretense of a violent passion for " so as to keep her off their trail. Marlow enters with a servant, confused why Hastings sent him the casket. He asks the servant to bring the casket to Mrs. Hardcastle for safekeeping and then speaks to himself about his nascent passion for the barmaid. Hastings enters and Marlow tells him about the barmaid and his new infatuation. Hastings is shocked that Marlow would rob a girl of her virtue, whereas Marlow insists he will "pay" for the virtue. When Hastings inquires after the casket, he's angered to hear Marlow has sent it to the landlady . However, Hastings cannot reveal the reasons for his displeasure without alerting Marlow to the duplicity being played on him, and so Hastings must decide on his own that he and Constance will leave without the jewels. Hardcastle enters to find Marlow, whom he welcomes again as son to his old friend. However, Hardcastle wishes Marlow to control Marlow's servants, who are getting drunk and causing a ruckus. When Jeremy, one of the servants, enters drunkenly and makes a fool of himself, Marlow refuses to discipline him but instead mocks Hardcastle's request. Fed up, Hardcastle demands Marlow and his servants leave immediately. Marlow is disgusted with the idea of being put out in the middle of the night, but Hardcastle insists until Marlow asks for his bill. In the confusion over why Marlow is requesting a bill, Marlow suddenly realizes what is going on, but not before Hardcastle exits angrily. As Marlow is grappling with his mistake, Kate passes through, and he confronts her immediately about where they are. Realizing she needs to play the situation right so as not to counteract her well-designed ruse, she answers him that it is Hardcastle's house, and laughs at the prospect that he considered it an inn. What's more, she provides she is not a barmaid but a "poor relation" who relies on the Hardcastles for the charity of shelter. Marlow is shocked to have potentially treated her as a lower class woman, and apologizes for having mistaken her behavior for that of a barmaid. He admits to her that he cannot pursue her since "the difference of our birth...makes an honourable connexion impossible" and so he must not endeavor to ruin her. Kate is impressed with the virtue he shows here, and she suggests that they could be wed even if she lacks fortune. He is touched by her "pretty simplicity" but admits "I owe too much to the opinion of the world, too much to the authority of a father," and so he leaves her as an act of courage. When he leaves, she decides to herself that she will maintain the deceit long enough to show her father his true character. Tony and Constance enter, with the former explaining that his mother believes the missing jewels were due simply to a servant's mistake but that he cannot steal them again. However, he has prepared some horses for their escape, and if he and Constance can fool his mother for a while longer, she and Hastings should be able to escape. As Mrs. Hardcastle enters, they pretend to be caught fondling each other, and she, so happy to see it, promises she will have them married the next day. A servant brings a letter for Tony, the handwriting of which Constance immediately recognizes as belonging to Hastings, which could ruin them. Tony, who cannot read, tries to sort it out, but before he can give it to his mother to read, Constance grabs it and pretends to read it, making up a nonsense letter on the spot. Her attempts to blow it off don't deter Tony, who gives it to his mother to read. She reads from it that Hastings awaits them in anticipation of the elopement. Though polite, she insists she will not be bested at this game, and decides she will use the horses Tony prepared to bring Constance far away from Hastings and any attempt to run away. She then leaves. Constance, now depressed, is joined by Hastings, who accuses Tony of betraying them. Before he can suitably defend himself, Marlow enters, angry at having been duped. In short order, everyone turns on Tony. A servant enters to inform Constance that Mrs. Hardcastle awaits her for a quick departure. In the meanwhile, the resentment between everyone grows harsher. With a quick and sad goodbye, Constance exits. Tony suddenly develops a plan, and tells everyone to meet him in two hours at the "bottom of the garden" where he'll prove to all he's more good-natured than they believe.

