HAST. My heart, how can I support this! To be so near happiness, and such happiness. MARL. (_To_ TONY.) You see now, young gentleman, the effects of your folly. What might be amusement to you, is here disappointment, and even distress. TONY. (_From a reverie._) Ecod, I have hit it. It's here. Your hands. Yours and yours, my poor sulky. My boots there, ho! Meet me two hours hence at the bottom of the garden; and if you don't find Tony Lumpkin a more good-natured fellow than you thought for, I'll give you leave to take my best horse, and Bet Bouncer into the bargain. Come along. My boots, ho! _Exeunt._ ACT V. _Scene continues._ _Enter_ HASTINGS _and_ SERVANT. HAST. You saw the old lady and Miss Neville drive off, you say? SERV. Yes, your honour; they went off in a post-coach, and the young 'squire went on horseback. They're thirty miles off by this time. HAST. Then all my hopes are over. SERV. Yes, sir. Old Sir Charles is arrived. He and the old gentleman of the house have been laughing at Mr. Marlow's mistake this half-hour. They are coming this way. HAST. Then I must not be seen. So, now to my fruitless appointment, at the bottom of the garden. This is about the time. _Exit._ _Enter_ SIR CHARLES _and_ HARDCASTLE. HARD. Ha! ha! ha! The peremptory tone in which he sent forth his sublime commands! SIR CHARLES. And the reserve with which I suppose he treated all your advances! HARD. And yet he might have seen something in me above a common inn-keeper too. SIR CHARLES. Yes, Dick, but he mistook you for an uncommon inn-keeper, ha! ha! ha! HARD. Well, I'm in too good spirits to think of anything but joy. Yes, my dear friend, this union of our families will make our personal friendships hereditary; and though my daughter's fortune is but small—— SIR CHARLES. Why, Dick, will you talk of fortune to _me_? My son is possessed of more than a competence already, and can want nothing but a good and virtuous girl to share his happiness and increase it. If they like each other, as you say they do—— HARD. _If_, man! I tell you they _do_ like each other. My daughter as good as told me so. SIR CHARLES. But girls are apt to flatter themselves, you know. HARD. I saw him grasp her hand in the warmest manner myself; and here he comes to put you out of your _ifs_, I warrant you. _Enter_ MARLOW. MARL. I come, sir, once more, to ask pardon for my strange conduct. I can scarce reflect on my insolence without confusion. HARD. Tut, boy, a trifle. You take it too gravely. An hour or two's laughing with my daughter will set all to rights again.—She'll never like you the worse for it. MARL. Sir, I shall be always proud of her approbation. HARD. Approbation is but a cold word, Mr. Marlow: if I am not deceived, you have something more than approbation thereabouts. You take me.