Tony. No, no; straightforward. I'll just step myself, and show you a piece of the way. (To the landlord.) Mum.
Land. Ah, bless your heart, for a sweet, pleasant-damn'd mischievous son of a whore.
Exeunt.
Scene.—An old-fashioned house.
Enter Hardcastle, followed by three or four awkward Servants.
Hard. Well, I hope you're perfect in the table exercise I have been teaching you these three days. You all know your posts and your places; and can show that you have been used to good company, without stirring from home.
Omnes. Ay, ay.
Hard. When company comes, you are not to pop out and stare, and then run in again, like frighted rabbits in a warren.
Omnes. No, no.