TONY. That's as I find 'um. HAST. Not to her of your mother's choosing, I dare answer: and yet she appears to me a pretty, well-tempered girl. TONY. That's because you don't know her as well as I. Ecod! I know every inch about her; and there's not a more bitter cantankerous toad in all Christendom. HAST. (_Aside._) Pretty encouragement this for a lover! TONY. I have seen her since the height of that. She has as many tricks as a hare in a thicket, or a colt the first day's breaking. HAST. To me she appears sensible and silent. TONY. Ay, before company. But when she's with her playmates, she's as loud as a hog in a gate. HAST. But there is a meek modesty about her that charms me. TONY. Yes; but curb her never so little, she kicks up, and you're flung in a ditch. HAST. Well; but you must allow her a little beauty.—Yes, you must allow her some beauty. TONY. Bandbox! She's all a made up thing, mun. Ah! could you but see Bet Bouncer, of these parts, you might then talk of beauty. Ecod, she has two eyes as black as sloes, and cheeks as broad and red as a pulpit cushion. She'd make two of she. HAST. Well, what say you to a friend that would take this bitter bargain off your hands? TONY. Anon. HAST. Would you thank him that would take Miss Neville, and leave you to happiness and your dear Betsy? TONY. Ay; but where is there such a friend? for who would take _her_? HAST. I am he. If you but assist me, I'll engage to whip her off to France, and you shall never hear more of her. TONY. Assist you! Ecod, I will, to the last drop of my blood. I'll clap a pair of horses to your chaise, that shall trundle you off in a twinkling; and may be, get you a part of her fortin beside, in jewels, that you little dream of. HAST. My dear 'squire, this looks like a lad of spirit. TONY. Come along then, and you shall see more of my spirit before you have done with me. _Singing._ We are the boys, That fears no noise, Where the thundering cannons roar. _Exeunt._ ACT III. _Enter_ HARDCASTLE, _solus_. HARD. What could my old friend Sir Charles mean, by recommending his son as the modestest young man in town? To me he appears the most impudent piece of brass that ever spoke with a tongue. He has taken possession of the easy chair by the fireside already. He took off his boots in the parlour, and desired me to see them taken care of. I'm desirous to know how his impudence affects my daughter.—She will certainly be shocked at it. _Enter_ MISS HARDCASTLE, _plainly dressed_. HARD. Well, my Kate, I see you have changed your dress, as I bid you; and yet, I believe, there was no great occasion. MISS HARD. I find such a pleasure, sir, in obeying your commands, that I take care to obey them without ever debating their propriety.