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'll see which is the strongest, you or I!
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.
Enter Miss Hardcastle.