MISS NEVILLE. 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 HARDCASTLE. My good brother holds out stoutly. I could almost love him for hating you so.
MISS NEVILLE. 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 HARDCASTLE. “Would it were bed-time, and all were well.” [Exeunt.]
SCENE—An Alehouse 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!
FIRST FELLOW Now, gentlemen, silence for a song. The ’squire is going to knock himself down for a song.
OMNES. Ay, a song, a song!
TONY. Then I’ll sing you, gentlemen, a song I made upon this alehouse, the Three Pigeons.
SONG.