SIR CHARLES. I can hold it no longer. Charles, Charles, how hast thou deceived me! Is this your indifference, your uninteresting conversation? HARDCASTLE. Your cold contempt; your formal interview! What have you to say now? MARLOW. That I’m all amazement! What can it mean? HARDCASTLE. It means that you can say and unsay things at pleasure: that you can address a lady in private, and deny it in public: that you have one story for us, and another for my daughter. MARLOW. Daughter!--This lady your daughter? HARDCASTLE. Yes, sir, my only daughter; my Kate; whose else should she be? MARLOW. Oh, the devil! MISS HARDCASTLE. Yes, sir, that very identical tall squinting lady you were pleased to take me for (courtseying); she that you addressed as the mild, modest, sentimental man of gravity, and the bold, forward, agreeable Rattle of the Ladies’ Club. Ha! ha! ha! MARLOW. Zounds! there’s no bearing this; it’s worse than death! MISS HARDCASTLE. In which of your characters, sir, will you give us leave to address you? As the faltering gentleman, with looks on the ground, that speaks just to be heard, and hates hypocrisy; or the loud confident creature, that keeps it up with Mrs. Mantrap, and old Miss Biddy Buckskin, till three in the morning? Ha! ha! ha! MARLOW. O, curse on my noisy head. I never attempted to be impudent yet, that I was not taken down. I must be gone. HARDCASTLE. By the hand of my body, but you shall not. I see it was all a mistake, and I am rejoiced to find it. You shall not, sir, I tell you. I know she’ll forgive you. Won’t you forgive him, Kate? We’ll all forgive you. Take courage, man. (They retire, she tormenting him, to the back scene.) Enter MRS. HARDCASTLE and Tony. MRS. HARDCASTLE. So, so, they’re gone off. Let them go, I care not. HARDCASTLE. Who gone? MRS. HARDCASTLE. My dutiful niece and her gentleman, Mr. Hastings, from town. He who came down with our modest visitor here. SIR CHARLES. Who, my honest George Hastings? As worthy a fellow as lives, and the girl could not have made a more prudent choice. HARDCASTLE. Then, by the hand of my body, I’m proud of the connexion. MRS. HARDCASTLE. Well, if he has taken away the lady, he has not taken her fortune; that remains in this family to console us for her loss. HARDCASTLE. Sure, Dorothy, you would not be so mercenary? MRS. HARDCASTLE. Ay, that’s my affair, not yours. HARDCASTLE. But you know if your son, when of age, refuses to marry his cousin, her whole fortune is then at her own disposal. MRS. HARDCASTLE. Ay, but he’s not of age, and she has not thought proper to wait for his refusal. Enter HASTINGS and MISS NEVILLE. MRS. HARDCASTLE. (Aside.) What, returned so soon! I begin not to like it.