Tony.—"Then I'll sing you,
gentlemen, a song."—p. 330.
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 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 anybody but himself. But my aunt's bell rings for our afternoon's walk round the improvements. Allons! Courage is necessary, as our affairs are critical.
Miss Hard. Would it were bedtime, and all were well.
Exeunt.
Scene.—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!
1 Fel. Now, gentlemen, silence for a song. The 'squire is going to knock himself down for a song.