HARDCASTLE. What, will nobody move?

FIRST SERVANT. I'm not to leave this pleace.

SECOND SERVANT. I'm sure it's no pleace of mine.

THIRD SERVANT. Nor mine, for sartain.

DIGGORY. Wauns, and I'm sure it canna be mine.

HARDCASTLE. You numskulls! and so while, like your betters, you are
quarrelling for places, the guests must be starved. O you dunces! I
find I must begin all over again----But don't I hear a coach drive into
the yard? To your posts, you blockheads. I'll go in the mean time and
give my old friend's son a hearty reception at the gate. [Exit
HARDCASTLE.]

DIGGORY. By the elevens, my pleace is gone quite out of my head.

ROGER. I know that my pleace is to be everywhere.

FIRST SERVANT. Where the devil is mine?

SECOND SERVANT. My pleace is to be nowhere at all; and so I'ze go
about my business. [Exeunt Servants, running about as if frightened,
different ways.]


Enter Servant with candles, showing in MARLOW and HASTINGS.