MARL. (_Gathering courage._) I have lived, indeed, in the world, madam; but I have kept very little company. I have been but an observer upon life, madam, while others were enjoying it. MISS NEV. But that, I am told, is the way to enjoy it at last. HAST. (_To him._) Cicero never spoke better. Once more, and you are confirmed in assurance for ever. MARL. (_To him._) Hem! Stand by me, then, and when I'm down, throw in a word or two, to set me up again. MISS HARD. An observer, like you, upon life, were, I fear, disagreeably employed, since you must have had much more to censure than to approve. MARL. Pardon me, madam. I was always willing to be amused. The folly of most people is rather an object of mirth than uneasiness. HAST. (_To him._) Bravo, bravo. Never spoke so well in your whole life. Well! Miss Hardcastle, I see, that you and Mr. Marlow are going to be very good company. I believe our being here will but embarrass the interview. MARL. Not in the least, Mr. Hastings. We like your company of all things. (_To him._) Zounds! George, sure you won't go: how can you leave us? HAST. Our presence will but spoil conversation, so we'll retire to the next room. (_To him._) You don't consider, man, that we are to manage a little tête-à-tête of our own. _Exeunt._ MISS HARD. (_After a pause._) But you have not been wholly an observer, I presume, sir: the ladies, I should hope, have employed some part of your addresses. MARL. (_Relapsing into timidity._) Pardon me, madam, I—I—I—as yet have studied—only—to—deserve them. MISS HARD. And that, some say, is the very worst way to obtain them. MARL. Perhaps so, madam. But I love to converse only with the more grave and sensible part of the sex.—But I'm afraid I grow tiresome. MISS HARD. Not at all, sir; there is nothing I like so much as grave conversation myself; I could hear it for ever. Indeed—I have often been surprised how a man of _sentiment_ could ever admire those light airy pleasures, where nothing reaches the heart. MARL. It's—a disease—of the mind, madam. In the variety of tastes there must be some who, wanting a relish—for—um-a-um. MISS HARD. I understand you, sir. There must be some, who, wanting a relish for refined pleasures, pretend to despise what they are incapable of tasting. MARL. My meaning, madam, but infinitely better expressed. And I can't help observing—a— MISS HARD. (_Aside._) Who could ever suppose this fellow impudent upon some occasions? (_To him._) You were going to observe, sir—— MARL. I was observing, madam—I protest, madam, I forget what I was going to observe. MISS HARD. (_Aside._) I vow, and so do I. (_To him._) You were observing, sir, that in this age of hypocrisy, something about hypocrisy, sir. MARL. Yes, madam; in this age of hypocrisy there are few who, upon strict inquiry, do not—a—a—a— MISS HARD. I understand you perfectly, sir. MARL. (_Aside._) Egad! and that's more than I do myself.