She Stoops to Conquer quotes

Ay, and bring back vanity and affectation to last them the whole year. I wonder why London cannot keep its own fools at home!

In my time, the follies of the town crept slowly among us, but now they travel faster than a stagecoach.

Its fopperies come down not only as inside passengers, but in the very basket.

Ay, and bring back vanity and affectation to last them the whole year.

I wonder why London cannot keep its own fools at home!

In my time, the follies of the town crept slowly among us, but now they travel faster than a stagecoach. Its fopperies come down not only as inside passengers, but in the very basket.

No matter. Tony Lumpkin has a good fortune. My son is not to live by his learning.

I don’t think a boy wants much learning to spend fifteen hundred a year.

Learning, quotha! a mere composition of tricks and mischief.

Humour, my dear; nothing but humour. Come, Mr. Hardcastle, you must allow the boy a little humour.

I’d sooner allow him a horsepond.

If burning the footmen’s shoes, frightening the maids, and worrying the kittens be humour, he has it.

And am I to blame? The poor boy was always too sickly to do any good. A school would be his death. When he comes to be a little stronger, who knows what a year or two’s Latin may do for him?

Latin for him! A cat and fiddle. No, no; the alehouse and the stable are the only schools he’ll ever go to.

Well, we must not snub the poor boy now, for I believe we shan’t have him long among us. Anybody that looks in his face may see he’s consumptive.

Well, we must not snub the poor boy now, for I believe we shan’t have him long among us. Anybody that looks in his face may see he’s consumptive.

Ay, if growing too fat be one of the symptoms.

Yes, when his liquor goes the wrong way.

Ay, if growing too fat be one of the symptoms.

Yes, when his liquor goes the wrong way.

I’m actually afraid of his lungs.

Pray, my dear, disappoint them for one night at least.

As for disappointing them, I should not so much mind; but I can’t abide to disappoint myself.

Detaining him. You shan’t go.

Eh! you have frozen me to death again.

That word reserved has undone all the rest of his accomplishments.

A reserved lover, it is said, always makes a suspicious husband.

My dear papa, why will you mortify one so?

Well, if he refuses, instead of breaking my heart at his indifference, I’ll only break my glass for its flattery, set my cap to some newer fashion, and look out for some less difficult admirer.

Bravely resolved! In the meantime I’ll go prepare the servants for his reception: as we seldom see company, they want as much training as a company of recruits the first day’s muster. Exit.

Why, gentlemen, if you know neither the road you are going, nor where you are, nor the road you came, the first thing I have to inform you is, that—you have lost your way.

We wanted no ghost to tell us that.

Pray, gentlemen, may I be so bold so as to ask the place from whence you came?

Come to where four roads meet?

Ay; but you must be sure to take only one of them.

Then keeping to the right, you are to go sideways till you come upon Crackskull Common: there you must look sharp for the track of the wheel, and go forward till you come to farmer Murrain’s barn.

Coming to the farmer’s barn, you are to turn to the right, and then to the left, and then to the right about again, till you find out the old mill—

Zounds, man! we could as soon find out the longitude!

What’s to be done, Marlow?

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.

By the laws, your worship, that’s parfectly unpossible. Whenever Diggory sees yeating going forward, ecod, he’s always wishing for a mouthful himself.

By the laws, your worship, that’s parfectly unpossible. Whenever Diggory sees yeating going forward, ecod, he’s always wishing for a mouthful himself.

Blockhead! Is not a bellyful in the kitchen as good as a bellyful in the parlour?

Stay your stomach with that reflection.

Well, honest Diggory, you may laugh at that; but still remember to be attentive. Suppose one of the company should call for a glass of wine, how will you behave? A glass of wine, sir, if you please—To Diggory. Eh, why don’t you move?

Ecod, your worship, I never have courage till I see the eatables and drinkables brought upo’ the table, and then I’m as bauld as a lion.

I’m not to leave this pleace.

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.

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.

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

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

Travellers, 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.

You have lived very much among them. In truth, I have been often surprised, that you who have seen so much of the world, with your natural good sense, and your many opportunities, could never yet acquire a requisite share of assurance.

But in the company of women of reputation I never saw such an idiot, such a trembler; you look for all the world as if you wanted an opportunity of stealing out of the room.

Why, man, that’s because I do want to steal out of the room.

Faith, I have often formed a resolution to break the ice, and rattle away at any rate. But I don’t know how, a single glance from a pair of fine eyes has totally overset my resolution. An impudent fellow may counterfeit modesty;

Faith, I have often formed a resolution to break the ice, and rattle away at any rate. But I don’t know how, a single glance from a pair of fine eyes has totally overset my resolution.

An impudent fellow may counterfeit modesty; but I’ll be hanged if a modest man can ever counterfeit impudence.

If you could but say half the fine things to them that I have heard you lavish upon the barmaid of an inn, or even a college bed-maker—

Mr. Marlow—Mr. Hastings—gentlemen—pray be under no constraint in this house.

This is Liberty Hall, gentlemen. You may do just as you please here.

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.

No, sir, I have long given that work over.

Since our betters have hit upon the expedient of electing each other, there is no business “for us that sell ale.”

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

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.

But that, I am told, is the way to enjoy it at last.

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.

But that, I am told, is the way to enjoy it at last.

To him. Cicero never spoke better. Once more, and you are confirmed in assurance forever.

You mean that in this hypocritical age there are few that do not condemn in public what they practise in private, and think they pay every debt to virtue when they praise it.

True, madam; those who have most virtue in their mouths, have least of it in their bosoms.

But I’m sure I tire you, madam.

Indeed! Such a head in a side box at the playhouse would draw as many gazers as my Lady Mayoress at a city ball.

I vow, since inoculation began, there is no such thing to be seen as a plain woman; so one must dress a little particular, or one may escape in the crowd.

But that can never be your case, madam, in any dress. Bowing.

Hardcastle: all I can say will never argue down a single button from his clothes. I have often wanted him to throw off his great flaxen wig, and where he was bald, to plaster it over, like my Lord Pately, with powder.

You are right, madam; for, as among the ladies there are none ugly, so among the men there are none old.

But what do you think his answer was? Why, with his usual Gothic vivacity, he said I only wanted him to throw off his wig, to convert it into a tête for my own wearing.

Pray, Mr. Hastings, what do you take to be the most fashionable age about town?

Some time ago, forty was all the mode; but I’m told the ladies intend to bring up fifty for the ensuing winter.

Seriously. Then I shall be too young for the fashion.

I that have rocked you in your cradle, and fed that pretty mouth with a spoon! Did not I work that waistcoat to make you genteel? Did not I prescribe for you every day, and weep while the receipt was operating?

Ecod! you had reason to weep, for you have been dosing me ever since I was born.

I have gone through every receipt in the Complete Huswife ten times over; and you have thoughts of coursing me through Quincy next spring. But, ecod! I tell you, I’ll not be made a fool of no longer.

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.

To me she appears sensible and silent.

But there is a meek modesty about her that charms me.

Yes, but curb her never so little, she kicks up, and you’re flung in a ditch.

Well, but you must allow her a little beauty.—Yes, you must allow her some beauty.

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.

Ay, he learned it all abroad—what a fool was I, to think a young man could learn modesty by travelling.

He might as soon learn wit at a masquerade.

It seems all natural to him.

Sure, sir, you rally! I never saw anyone so modest.

And can you be serious? I never saw such a bouncing, swaggering puppy since I was born.

Bully Dawson was but a fool to him.

And yet there may be many good qualities under that first appearance.

Ay, when a girl finds a fellow’s outside to her taste, she then sets about guessing the rest of his furniture. With her, a smooth face stands for good sense, and a genteel figure for every virtue.

I hope, sir, a conversation begun with a compliment to my good sense won’t end with a sneer at my understanding!

But how have you procured them from your mother?

Ask me no questions, and I’ll tell you no fibs.

I procured them by the rule of thumb. If I had not a key to every drawer in mother’s bureau, how could I go to the alehouse so often as I do? An honest man may rob himself of his own at any time.

Ask me no questions, and I’ll tell you no fibs. I procured them by the rule of thumb. If I had not a key to every drawer in mother’s bureau, how could I go to the alehouse so often as I do?

An honest man may rob himself of his own at any time.

Thousands do it every day. But to be plain with you; Miss Neville is endeavouring to procure them from her aunt this very instant. If she succeeds, it will be the most delicate way at least of obtaining them.

Indeed, Constance, you amaze me. Such a girl as you want jewels!

It will be time enough for jewels, my dear, twenty years hence, when your beauty begins to want repairs.

But what will repair beauty at forty, will certainly improve it at twenty, madam.

Indeed, Constance, you amaze me. Such a girl as you want jewels! It will be time enough for jewels, my dear, twenty years hence, when your beauty begins to want repairs.

But what will repair beauty at forty, will certainly improve it at twenty, madam.

Yours, my dear, can admit of none. That natural blush is beyond a thousand ornaments. Besides, child, jewels are quite out at present. Don’t you see half the ladies of our acquaintance, my Lady Kill-daylight, and Mrs.

A parcel of old-fashioned rose and table-cut things.

They would make you look like the court of King Solomon at a puppet show.

Besides, I believe, I can’t readily come at them. They may be missing, for aught I know to the contrary.

You must learn resignation, my dear; for though we lose our fortune, yet we should not lose our patience. See me, how calm I am.

Ay, people are generally calm at the misfortunes of others.

Now I wonder a girl of your good sense should waste a thought upon such trumpery. We shall soon find them; and in the meantime you shall make use of my garnets till your jewels be found.

Vanish. She’s here, and has missed them already.

Zounds! how she fidgets and spits about like a Catherine wheel.

Confusion! thieves! robbers! we are cheated, plundered, broke open, undone.

One may call in this house, I find, to very little purpose. Suppose I should call for a taste, just by way of a trial, of the nectar of your lips; perhaps I might be disappointed in that too.

Nectar! nectar! That’s a liquor there’s no call for in these parts.

French, I suppose. We sell no French wines here, sir.

Then it’s odd I should not know it. We brew all sorts of wines in this house, and I have lived here these eighteen years.

Eighteen years! Why, one would think, child, you kept the bar before you were born.

How old are you?

Eighteen years! Why, one would think, child, you kept the bar before you were born. How old are you?

O! sir, I must not tell my age. They say women and music should never be dated.

To guess at this distance, you can’t be much above forty. Approaching. Yet, nearer, I don’t think so much. Approaching. By coming close to some women, they look younger still; but when we come very close indeed—Attempting to kiss her.

To guess at this distance, you can’t be much above forty. Approaching. Yet, nearer, I don’t think so much. Approaching. By coming close to some women, they look younger still; but when we come very close indeed—Attempting to kiss her.

Pray, sir, keep your distance. One would think you wanted to know one’s age, as they do horses, by mark of mouth.

I protest, child, you use me extremely ill. If you keep me at this distance, how is it possible you and I can ever be acquainted?

Nothing, my dear, nothing. But I was in for a list of blunders, and could not help making you a subscriber. My stupidity saw everything the wrong way.

I mistook your assiduity for assurance, and your simplicity for allurement.

But it’s over—this house I no more show my face in.

Nothing, my dear, nothing.

But I was in for a list of blunders, and could not help making you a subscriber.

My stupidity saw everything the wrong way. I mistook your assiduity for assurance, and your simplicity for allurement. But it’s over—this house I no more show my face in.

And why now, my pretty simplicity?

Because it puts me at a distance from one that, if I had a thousand pounds, I would give it all to.

Aside. This simplicity bewitches me so, that if I stay I’m undone. I must make one bold effort, and leave her. To her. Your partiality in my favour, my dear, touches me most sensibly;

But, my dear cousin, sure you won’t forsake us in this distress? If she in the least suspects that I am going off, I shall certainly be locked up, or sent to my aunt Pedigree’s, which is ten times worse.

To be sure, aunts of all kinds are damned bad things.

But what can I do? I have got you a pair of horses that will fly like Whistle Jacket; and I’m sure you can’t say but I have courted you nicely before her face. Here she comes;

It’s very odd, I can read the outside of my letters, where my own name is, well enough; but when I come to open it, it’s all—buzz.

That’s hard, very hard; for the inside of the letter is always the cream of the correspondence.

Ha! ha! ha! Very well, very well. And so my son was too hard for the philosopher.

And yet he might have seen something in me above a common innkeeper, too.

Yes, Dick, but he mistook you for an uncommon innkeeper, ha! ha! ha!

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—

Left them! Why where should I leave them but where I found them?

Riddle me this then. What’s that goes round the house, and round the house, and never touches the house?

Why, that’s it, mon. I have led them astray. By jingo, there’s not a pond or a slough within five miles of the place but they can tell the taste of.

My dear friend, how can I be grateful?

Ay, now it’s “dear friend,” “noble Squire.” Just now, it was all “idiot,” “cub,” and run me through the guts.

Damn your way of fighting, I say. After we take a knock in this part of the country, we kiss and be friends. But if you had run me through the guts, then I should be dead, and you might go kiss the hangman.

Ay, now it’s “dear friend,” “noble Squire.” Just now, it was all “idiot,” “cub,” and run me through the guts. Damn your way of fighting, I say.

After we take a knock in this part of the country, we kiss and be friends. But if you had run me through the guts, then I should be dead, and you might go kiss the hangman.

The rebuke is just. But I must hasten to relieve Miss Neville; if you keep the old lady employed, I promise to take care of the young one.

Yes, I shall remember the horsepond as long as I live; I have caught my death in it. To Tony. And it is to you, you graceless varlet, I owe all this? I’ll teach you to abuse your mother, I will.

Ecod, mother, all the parish says you have spoiled me, and so you may take the fruits on’t.

I’ll spoil you, I will.

In an hour of levity, I was ready to give up my fortune to secure my choice. But I am now recovered from the delusion, and hope from your tenderness what is denied me from a nearer connection.

Pshaw, pshaw! this is all but the whining end of a modern novel.

Be it what it will, I’m glad they’re come back to reclaim their due. Come hither, Tony, boy. Do you refuse this lady’s hand whom I now offer you?