ACT II, SCENE I

CHARACTERS: Hardcastle, hospitable and urbane, with a touch of humor in his nature; Marlow and Hastings who come from London to visit the Hardcastles; servants.

SCENE: Hardcastle's house. Young Marlow and Hastings have journeyed from London to the home of Mr. Hardcastle, an old family friend whom they have never seen. They are deceived into believing they are many miles from their destination when they really have arrived. They are told that Mr. Hardcastle's house is a public inn. This leads to much confusion. The genial Hardcastle is drilling his servants.

_Enter_ HARDCASTLE, _followed by_ DIGGORY _and three or four awkward_ SERVANTS

MR. H. Well, I hope you're perfect in the table exercise I have been teaching you these three days. You all know your posts and your places, and can show that you have been used to good company, without stirring from home?

ALL. Ay! ay!

MR. H. When company comes, you are not to pop out and stare, and then run in again, like frightened rabbits in a warren.

ALL. No! no!

MR. H. You, Diggory, whom I have taken from the barn, are to make a show at the side table; and you, Roger, whom I have advanced from the plough, are to place yourself behind my chair. But you're not to stand so, with your hands in your pockets. Take your hands from your pockets, Roger; and from your head, you blockhead you! See how Diggory carries his hands. They're a little too stiff, indeed, but that's no great matter.

DIGGORY. Ay, mind how I hold them. I learned to hold my hands this way, when I was upon drill for the militia. And so being upon drill----

MR. H. You must not be so talkative, Diggory; you must be all attention to the guests. You must hear us talk, and not think of talking; you must see us drink, and not think of drinking; you must see us eat, and not think of eating.

DIG. By the laws, your worship, that's perfectly unpossible.

[_Exeunt._

_Enter_ SERVANTS, _showing in_ MARLOW _and_ HASTINGS

SERV. Welcome, gentlemen, very welcome. This way.

HAST. After the disappointments of the day, welcome once more, Charles, to the comforts of a clean room, and a good fire. Upon my word, a very well-looking house; antique, but creditable.

MAR. The usual fate of a large mansion. Having first ruined the master by good housekeeping, it at last comes to levy contributions as an inn.

HAST. As you say, we passengers are to be taxed to pay all these fineries. I have often seen a good side-board, or a marble chimney-piece, though not actually put in the bill, inflame the bill confoundedly.

MAR. Travelers, George, must pay in all places. The only difference is, that in good inns you pay dearly for luxuries; in bad inns you are fleeced and starved.

_Enter_ HARDCASTLE

MR. H. Gentlemen, once more you are heartily welcome. Which is Mr. Marlow? Sir, you're heartily welcome. It's not my way, you see, to receive my friends with my back to the fire. I like to give them a hearty reception in the old style at my gate. I like to see their horses and trunks taken care of.

MAR. [_aside_]. He has got our names from the servants already. [_To_ HARDCASTLE.] We approve your caution and hospitality. [_To_ HASTINGS.] I have been thinking, George, of changing our traveling dresses in the morning, I am grown confoundedly ashamed of mine.

MR. H. [_putting chairs and tables in order in background_]. I beg, Mr. Marlow, you'll use no ceremony in this house.

HAST. I fancy, George, you're right; the first blow is half the battle. I intend opening the campaign with the white and gold.

MR. H. Mr. Marlow--Mr. Hastings--gentlemen--pray be under no restraint in this house. This is Liberty Hall, gentlemen. You may do just as you please here.

MAR. Yet, George, if we open the campaign too fiercely at first, we may want ammunition before it is over. I think to reserve the embroidery to secure a retreat.

MR. H. Your talking of a retreat, Mr. Marlow, puts me in mind of the Duke of Marlborough, when he went to besiege Denain. He first summoned the garrison--

MAR. Aye, and we'll summon your garrison, old boy.

MR. H. He first summoned the garrison, which might consist of about five thousand men--

HAST. What a strange fellow is this!

MR. H. I say, gentlemen, as I was telling you, he summoned the garrison, which might consist of about five thousand men--

MAR. Well, but suppose--

MR. H. Which might consist of about five thousand men, well appointed with stores, ammunition, and other implements of war. Now, says the Duke of Marlborough to George Brooks, that stood next to him--you must have heard of George Brooks--I'll pawn my dukedom, says he, but I take that garrison without spilling a drop of blood. So--

MAR. What, my good friend, if you give us a glass of punch in the meantime, it would help us to carry on the siege with vigor.

MR. H. Punch, sir?

MAR. Yes, sir, punch. A glass of warm punch, after our journey, will be comfortable. This is Liberty Hall, you know.

MR. H. Here's a cup, sir.

MAR. [_aside_]. So this fellow, in his Liberty Hall, will only let us have just what he pleases.

MR. H. I hope you'll find it to your mind. I have prepared it with my own hands, and I believe you'll own the ingredients are tolerable. Will you be so good as to pledge me, sir? Here, Mr. Marlow, here is to our better acquaintance. [_Drinks_.]

MAR. [_aside_]. A very impudent fellow, this! but he's a character, and I'll humor him a little. [_Aloud_.] Sir, my service to you. [_Drinks_.]

HAST. [_aside_]. I see this fellow wants to give us his company, and forgets that he's an inn-keeper before he has learned to be a gentleman.

MAR. From the excellence of your cup, my old friend, I suppose you have a good deal of business in this part of the country. Warm work, now and then, at elections, I suppose?

MR. H. No, sir; I have long given that work over.

HAST. So, then, you have no turn for politics, I find?

MR. H. Why, no, sir; there was a time, indeed, when I fretted myself about the mistakes of government, like other people; but finding myself every day grow more angry, and the government no better, I left it to mend itself. Sir, my service to you. [_Drinks._]

HAST. So that, with eating above stairs, and drinking below, with receiving your friends within, amusing them without, you lead a good, pleasant, bustling life of it.

MR. H. I do stir about a great deal, that's certain. Half the differences of the parish are adjusted in this very parlor.

MAR. And you have an argument in your cup, old gentleman, better than any in Westminster Hall.

MR. H. Aye, young gentleman, that, and a little philosophy.

MAR. [_aside_]. Well, this is the first time I ever heard of an inn-keeper's philosophy.

HAST. So, then, like an experienced general, you attack them on every quarter. If you find their reason manageable you attack it with your philosophy; if you find they have no reason, you attack them with this. Here's your health, my philosopher.

MR. H. Good, very good, thank you; ha! ha! Your generalship puts me in mind of Prince Eugene, when he fought the Turks at the battle of Belgrade. You shall hear.

MAR. Instead of the battle of Belgrade, I think it's almost time to talk about supper. What has your philosophy got in the house for supper?

MR. H. For supper, sir? Was ever such a request made to a man in his own house?

MAR. Yes, sir, supper, sir; I begin to feel an appetite. I shall make devilish work to-night in the larder, I promise you.

MR. H. Such a brazen dog sure never my eyes beheld. Why, really, sir, as for supper, I can't well tell. My Dorothy and the cook-maid settle these things between them. I leave these kind of things entirely to them.

MAR. You do, do you?

MR. H. Entirely. By-the-bye, I believe they are in actual consultation upon what's for supper this moment in the kitchen.

MAR. Then I beg they'll admit me as one of their privy council. It's a way I have got. When I travel, I always choose to regulate my own supper. Let the cook be called. No offense, I hope, sir.

MR. H. O, no, sir, none in the least; yet I don't know how; our Bridget, the cook-maid, is not very communicative upon these occasions. Should we send for her she might scold us all out of the house.

HAST. Let's see the list of the larder, then. I ask it as a favor. I always match my appetite to my bill of fare.

MAR. Sir, he's very right, and it's my way too.

MR. H. Sir, you have a right to command here. Here, Roger, bring us the bill of fare for to-night's supper--I believe it's drawn out. Your manner, Mr. Hastings, puts me in mind of my uncle, Colonel Gunthorp. It was a saying of his, that no man was sure of his supper till he had eaten it.

_Enter_ ROGER, _with a bill of fare_

HAST. [_aside_]. All upon the high ropes! His uncle a colonel--we shall soon hear of his mother being a justice of the peace. But let's hear the bill of fare. [_Exit_ ROGER.

MAR. What's here? For the first course, for the second course, for the dessert! The devil, sir! do you think we have brought down the whole joiner's company, or the corporation of Bedford? two or three little things, clean and comfortable, will do.

HAST. But let's hear it.

MAR. "For the first course at the top, a pig's face and prune sauce."

HAST. Out with your pig, I say.

MAR. Out with your prune sauce, say I.

MR. H. And yet, gentlemen, to men that are hungry, pig, with prune sauce, is very good eating. But, gentlemen, you are my guests, make what alterations you please. Is there anything else you wish to retrench or alter, gentlemen?

MAR. Why, really, sir, your bill of fare is so exquisite, that any one part of it is full as good as another. Send us what you please. So much for supper. And now to see that our beds are aired, and luggage properly taken care of.

MR. H. I entreat you'll leave all that to me. You shall not stir a step.

MAR. Leave that to you? I protest, sir. You must excuse me, I always look to these things myself.

MR. H. I must insist, sir, you'll make yourself easy on that head.

MAR. You see I'm resolved on it. [_Aside_.] A very troublesome fellow this as ever I met with.

MR. H. Well, sir, I'm resolved at least to attend you.

[_Exeunt_ MARLOW _and_ HASTINGS.

[_Aside_.] This may be modern modesty, but I never saw anything look so like old-fashioned impudence. What could my old friend Sir Charles Marlow 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!

[_Exit_ HARDCASTLE.

PYGMALION AND GALATEA

W. S. GILBERT