HAST. We have not seen the gentleman; but he has the family you mention. TONY. The daughter, a tall trapesing, trolloping, talkative May-pole——The son, a pretty, well-bred, agreeable youth, that everybody is fond of. MARL. Our information differs in this. The daughter is said to be well-bred and beautiful; the son, an awkward booby, reared up, and spoiled at his mother's apron-string. TONY. He-he-hem—Then, gentlemen, all I have to tell you is, that you won't reach Mr. Hardcastle's house this night, I believe. HAST. Unfortunate! TONY. It's a damn'd long, dark, boggy, dirty, dangerous way. Stingo, tell the gentlemen the way to Mr. Hardcastle's; (_winking upon the landlord._) Mr. Hardcastle's, of Quagmire Marsh; you understand me. LAND. Master Hardcastle's? Lack-a-daisy, my masters, you're come a deadly deal wrong! When you came to the bottom of the hill, you should have crossed down Squash-lane. MARL. Cross down Squash-lane? LAND. Then you were to keep straight forward, till you came to four roads. MARL. Come to where four roads meet! TONY. Aye; but you must be sure to take only one of them. MARL. O sir, you're facetious. TONY. Then keeping to the right, you are to go sideways till you come upon Crack-skull-common: there you must look sharp for the track of the wheel, and go forward, till you come to farmer Murrain's barn. Coming to the farmer's barn, you are to turn to the right, and then to the left, and then to the right-about again, till you find out the old mill—— MARL. Zounds, man! we could as soon find out the longitude! HAST. What's to be done, Marlow? MARL. This house promises but a poor reception; though perhaps the landlord can accommodate us. LAND. Alack, master, we have but one spare bed in the whole house. TONY. And, to my knowledge, that's taken up by three lodgers already. (_After a pause, in which the rest seem disconcerted._) I have hit it. Don't you think, Stingo, our landlady would accommodate the gentlemen by the fireside, with—three chairs and a bolster? HAST. I hate sleeping by the fireside. MARL. And I detest your three chairs and a bolster. TONY. You do, do you?—then let me see—what if you go on a mile further, to the Buck's Head; the old Buck's Head on the hill, one of the best inns in the whole country? HAST. O, ho! so we have escaped an adventure for this night, however. LAND. (_Apart to_ TONY.) Sure, you ben't sending them to your father's as an inn, be you? TONY. Mum, you fool you. Let _them_ find that out. (_To them._) You have only to keep on straight forward, till you come to a large old house by the road-side. You'll see a pair of large horns over the door. That's the sign. Drive up the yard, and call stoutly about you. HAST. Sir, we are obliged to you. The servants can't miss the way.