No More Learning

ACT THE THIRD.


SCENE I. --_Outside_ Sir DAVY DUNCE's _House in Covent Garden_.

_Enter_ SYLVIA.

Sylv. To fall in love, and to fall in love with a soldier! nay,
a disbanded soldier too; a fellow with the mark of Cain upon
him, which everybody knows him by, and is ready to throw stones
at him for.

_Enter_ COURTINE.

_Cour. _ Damn her! I shall never enjoy her without ravishing; if
she were but very rich and very ugly, I would marry her. Ay,
'tis she; I know her mischievous look too well to be mistaken
in it. --Madam.

_Sylv. _ Sir.

_Cour. _ 'Tis a very hard case, that you have resolved not to
let me be quiet.

_Sylv. _ 'Tis very unreasonably done of you, sir, to haunt me
up and down everywhere at this scandalous rate; the world will
think we are acquainted, shortly.

_Cour. _ But, madam, I shall fairly take more care of my
reputation, and from this time forward shun and avoid you most
watchfully.

_Sylv. _ Have you not haunted this place these two hours?

_Cour. _ 'Twas because I knew it to be your ladyship's home,
then, and therefore might reasonably be the place you
least of all frequented; one would imagine you were gone
a-coxcomb-hunting by this time, to some place of public
appearance or other; 'tis pretty near the hour; 'twill be
twilight presently, and then the owls come all abroad.

_Sylv. _ What need I take the trouble to go so far a-fowling,
when there's game enough at our own doors?

_Cour. _ What, game for your net, fair lady?

_Sylv. _ Yes, or any woman's net else, that will spread it.

_Cour. _ To show you how despicably I think of the business, I
will here leave you presently, though I lose the pleasure of
railing at you.

_Sylv. _ Do so, I would advise you; your raillery betrays your
wit, as bad as your clumsy civility does your breeding.

_Cour. _ Adieu!

_Sylv. _ Farewell!

_Cour. _ Why do not you go about your business?

_Sylv. _ Because I would be sure to be rid of you first, that
you might not dog me.

_Cour. _ Were it but possible that you could answer me one
question truly, and then I should be satisfied.

_Sylv. _ Any thing for composition to be rid of you handsomely.

_Cour. _ Are you really very honest? look in my face, and tell
me that.

_Sylv. _ Look in your face and tell you! for what? to spoil my
stomach to my supper?

_Cour. _ No, but to get thee a stomach to thy bed, sweetheart; I
would if possible be better acquainted with thee, because thou
art very ill-natured.

_Sylv. _ Your only way to bring that business about effectually,
is to be more troublesome; and if you think it worth your
while to be abused substantially, you may make your personal
appearance this night.

_Cour. _ How? where? and when? and what hour, I beseech thee?

_Sylv. _ Under the window, between the hours of eleven and
twelve exactly.

_Cour. _ Where shall these lovely eyes and ears
Hear my plaints, and see my tears?

_Sylv. _ At that kind hour thy griefs shall end,
If thou canst know thy foe from thy friend. [_Exit. _

_Cour. _ Here's another trick of the devil now; under that
window between the hours of eleven and twelve exactly! I am a
damned fool, and must go: let me see; suppose I meet with a
lusty beating: pish, that's nothing for a man that's in love;
or suppose she contrive some way to make a public coxcomb of
me, and expose me to the scorn of the world, for an example to
all amorous blockheads hereafter? why, if she do, I'll swear
I have lain with her; beat her relations, if they pretend to
vindicate her; and so there's one love-intrigue pretty well
over. [_Exit. _

_Enter_ Sir DAVY DUNCE _and_ VERMIN.

_Sir Dav. _ Go, get you in to your lady now, and tell her I am
coming.

_Ver. _ Her ladyship, right worshipful, is pleased not to be at
home.

_Sir Dav. _ How's that? my lady not at home! Run, run in and ask
when she went forth, whither she is gone, and who is with her;
run and ask, Vermin.

_Ver. _ She went out in her chair presently after you this
afternoon.

_Sir Dav. _ Then I may be a cuckold still for aught I know: what
will become of me? I have surely lost, and ne'er shall find her
more; she promised me strictly to stay at home till I came back
again; for aught I know she may be up three pair of stairs in
the Temple now.

_Ver. _ Is her ladyship in law then, sir?

_Sir Dav. _ Or it may be taking the air as far as Knightsbridge,
with some smooth-faced rogue or another. 'Tis a damned house,
that Swan: that Swan at Knightsbridge is a confounded house,
Vermin.

_Ver. _ Do you think she is there then?

_Sir Dav. _ No, I do not think she is there neither; but such a
thing may be, you know: would that Barn-Elms was under water
too! there's a thousand cuckolds a year made at Barn-Elms by
Rosamond's Ponds:[40] the devil! if she should be there this
evening my heart's broke.

_Enter_ Sir JOLLY.

_Sir Jol. _ That must be Sir Davy; ay, that's he, that's he,
ha, ha, ha; was ever the like heard of? was ever anything so
pleasant?

_Sir Dav. _ I'll lock her up three days and three nights without
meat, drink, or light; I'll humble her in the devil's name.

_Sir Jol. _ Well, could I but meet my friend Sir Davy, it would
be the joyfullest news for him--

_Sir Dav. _ Who's there that has anything to say to me?

_Sir Jol. _ Ah, my friend of friends, such news, such tidings!

_Sir Dav. _ I have lost my wife, man.

_Sir Jol. _ Lost her! she's not dead, I hope?

_Sir Dav. _ Yes. Alas, she's dead, irrecoverably lost!

_Sir Jol. _ Why, I parted with her within this half-hour.

_Sir Dav. _ Did you so? are you sure it was she? where was it?
I'll have my lord chief-justice's warrant and a constable
presently.

_Sir Jol. _ And she made the purest sport now with a young
fellow, man, that she met withal accidentally.

_Sir Dav. _ O Lord, that's worse and worse! a young fellow! --my
wife making sport with a young fellow! O Lord! here are doings,
here are vagaries! I'll run mad. I'll climb Bow-steeple
presently, bestride the dragon, and preach cuckoldom to the
whole city.

_Sir Jol. _ The best of all was, too, that it happened to be an
idle coxcomb that pretended to be in love with her, neighbour.

_Sir Dav. _ Indeed! in love with her! who was it? what's his
name? I warrant you won't tell a body--I'll indict him in the
Crown-office; no, I'll issue warrants to apprehend him for
treason upon the statute of Edward 19. Won't you tell me what
young fellow it was? was it a very handsome young fellow, ha?

_Sir Jol. _ Handsome? yes, hang him; the fellow's handsome
enough: he is not very handsome neither, but he has a devilish
leering black eye.

_Sir Dav. _ O Lord!

_Sir Jol. _ His face too is a good riding face; 'tis no soft
effeminate complexion indeed, but his countenance is ruddy,
sanguine, and cheerful; a devilish fellow in a corner, I'll
warrant him.

_Sir Dav. _ Bless us! what will become of me? Why the devil
did I marry a young wife? Is he very well shaped too, tall,
straight, and proportionable, ha?

_Sir Jol. _ Tall? no, he's not very tall neither, yet he is tall
enough too: he's none of your overgrown, lubberly Flanders
jades, but more of the true English breed, well-knit, able, and
fit for service, old boy; the fellow is well shaped truly, very
well proportioned, strong and active. I have seen the rogue
leap like a buck.

_Sir Dav. _ Who can this be? Well, and what think you, friend,
has he been there? Come, come, I'm sensible she's a young
woman; and I am an old fellow--troth, a very old fellow,
I signify little or nothing now. But do you think he has
prevailed? am I cuckold, neighbour?

_Sir Jol. _ Cuckold! what, a cuckold in Covent-garden! no, I'll
assure you, I believe her to be the most virtuous woman in the
world; but if you had but seen--

_Sir Dav. _ Ay, would I had! what was it?

_Sir Jol. _ How like a rogue she used him: first of all comes me
up the spark to her. "Madam," says he--and then he bows down,
thus. "How now," says she, "what would the impertinent fellow
have? "

_Sir Dav. _ Humph! ha! well, and what then?

_Sir Jol. _ "Madam," says he again, bowing as he did before, "my
heart is so entirely yours, that except you take pity on my
sufferings I must here die at your feet. "

_Sir Dav. _ So, and what said she again, neighbour? ha!

_Sir Jol. _ "Go, you are a fop. "

_Sir Dav. _ Ha, ha, ha! did she indeed? Did she say so indeed? I
am glad on't, troth, I am very glad on't. Well, and what next?
And how, and well, and what? ha!

_Sir Jol. _ "Madam," says he, "this won't do; I am your humble
servant for all this; you may pretend to be as ill-natured as
you please, but I shall make bold. "

_Sir Dav.
_ Was there ever such an impudent fellow?

_Sir Jol. _ With that, "Sirrah," says she, "you are a saucy
jackanapes, and I'll have you kicked. "

_Sir Dav. _ Ha, ha, ha! Well, I would not be unmarried again to
be an angel.

_Sir Jol. _ But the best jest of all was, who this should be at
last.

_Sir Dav. _ Ay, who indeed! I'll warrant you some silly fellow
or other, poor fool!

_Sir Jol. _ E'en a scandalous rakehell, that lingers up and down
the town by the name of Captain Beaugard; but he has been a
bloody cuckold-making scoundrel in his time.

_Sir Dav. _ Hang him, sot, is it he? I don't value him this, not
a wet finger, man. To my knowledge she hates him, she scorns
him, neighbour; I know it, I am very well satisfied in the
point; besides, I have seen him since that, and out-hectored
him: I am to tell her from his own mouth, that he promises
never to affront her more.

_Sir Jol. _ Indeed!

_Sir Dav. _ Ay, ay--

_Enter_ Lady DUNCE, _paying her_ Chairman.

_Chair. _ God bless you, madam, thank your honour!

_Sir Jol. _ Hush, hush! there's my lady. I'll be gone, I'll not
be seen; your humble servant, God b'w'ye.

_Sir Dav. _ No faith, Sir Jolly, e'en go into my house now, and
stay supper with me, we ha'n't supped together a great while.

_Sir Jol. _ Ha! say you so? I don't care if I do, faith, with
all my heart; this may give me an opportunity to set all things
right again. [_Aside. _

_Sir Dav. _ My dear!

_L. Dunce. _ Sir!

_Sir Dav. _ You have been abroad, my dear, I see.

_L. Dunce. _ Only for a little air; truly I was almost stifled
within doors; I hope you will not be angry, Sir Davy, will you?

_Sir Dav. _ Angry, child! no, child, not I; what should I be
angry for?

_L. Dunce. _ I wonder, Sir Davy, you will serve me at this rate.
Did you not promise to go in my behalf to Beaugard, and correct
him according to my instructions for his insolence?

_Sir Dav. _ So I did, child; I have been with him, sweetheart;
I have told him all to a tittle; I gave him back again the
picture too: but, as the devil would have it, I forgot the
ring--faith, I did.

_L. Dunce. _ Did you purpose, Sir Sodom, to render me ridiculous
to the man I abominate? what scandalous interpretation, think
you, must he make of my retaining any trifle of his, sent me on
so dishonourable terms!

_Sir Dav. _ Really, my lamb, thou art in the right; yet I went
back afterwards, dear heart, and did the business to some
purpose.

_L. Dunce. _ I am glad that you did, with all my heart.

_Sir Dav. _ I gave him his lesson, I'll warrant him.

_L. Dunce. _ Lesson! what lesson had you to give him?

_Sir Dav. _ Why, I told him as he liked that usage he might come
again; ha, ha, ha!

_L. Dunce. _ Ay, and so let him.

_Sir Dav. _ With all my heart, I'll give him free leave, or
hang me; though thou wouldst not imagine how the poor devil's
altered. La you there now, but as certainly as I stand here,
that man is troubled that he swears he shall not rest day nor
night till he has satisfied thee; pr'ythee be satisfied with
him if 'tis possible, my dear, pr'ythee do. I promised him,
before I left him, to tell thee as much: for the poor wretch
looks so simply, I could not choose but pity him, I vow and
swear, ha, ha, ha!

_Sir Jol. _ Now, now, you little witch! now, you chitsface!
Odd, I could find in my heart to put my little finger in your
bubbies.

_L. Dunce. _ Sir Davy, I must tell you, that I cannot but resent
your so soon reconcilement with a man that I hate worse than
death, and that if you loved me with half that tenderness which
you profess, you would not forget an affront so palpably and so
basely offered me.

_Sir Dav. _ Why, chicken, where's the remedy? What's to be done?
How wouldst thou have me deal with him?

_L. Dunce. _ Cut his throat.

_Sir Dav. _ Bless us for ever! cut his throat! what, do murder?

_L. Dunce. _ Murder! yes, anything to such an incorrigible enemy
of your honour, one that has resolved to persist in abusing of
you. See here this letter, this I received since I last parted
with you; just now it was thrown into my chair by an impudent
lackey of his, kept o' purpose for such employments.

_Sir Dav. _ Let me see: a letter, indeed! --"For the Lady Dunce":
damned rogue, treacherous dog, what can he say in the inside
now? here's a villain!

_L. Dunce. _ Yes, you had best break it open, you had so; 'tis
like the rest of your discretion.

_Sir Dav. _ Lady, if I have an enemy, it is best for me to know
what mischief he intends me; therefore, with your leave, I will
break it open.

_L. Dunce. _ Do, do, to have him believe that I was pleased
enough with it to do it myself: if you have the spirit of a
gentleman in you, carry it back, and dash it, as it is, in the
face of that audacious fellow.

_Sir Jol. _ What can be the meaning of this now?

_Sir Dav. _ A gentleman! yes, madam, I am a gentleman, and the
world shall find that I am a gentleman. --I have certainly the
best woman in the world. [_Aside. _

_L. Dunce. _ What do you think must be the end of all this? I
have no refuge in the world but your kindness: had I a jealous
husband now, how miserable must my life be!

_Sir Jol. _ Ah, rogue's nose! ah, devil! ah, toad! cunning
thief, wheedling slut, I'll bite her by and by.

_Sir Dav. _ Poor fool! No, dear, I am not jealous, nor never
will be jealous of thee; do what thou wilt, thou shalt not
make me jealous: I love thee too well to suspect thee.

_L. Dunce. _ Ah, but how long will you do so?

_Sir Dav. _ How long? as long as I live, I warrant thee,
I--don't talk to a body so: I cannot hold if thou dost, my eyes
will run over, poor fool! poor birdsnies! poor lambkin!

_L. Dunce. _ But will you be so kind to me to answer my desires?
will you once more endeavour to make that traitor sensible that
I have too just an esteem of you not to value his addresses as
they deserve?

_Sir Dav. _ Ay, ay, I will.

_L. Dunce. _ But don't stay away too long, dear; make what haste
you can; I shall be in pain till I see you again.

_Sir Dav. _ My dear, my love, my babby, I'll be with thee in a
moment. How happy am I above the rest of men! Neighbour, dear
neighbour, walk in with my wife, and keep her company till
I return again. Child, don't be troubled, pr'ythee don't be
troubled. --Was there ever such a wife? well, da, da, da: don't
be troubled, pr'ythee don't be troubled, pr'ythee don't be
troubled, da, da. [_Exeunt_ Sir DAVY _and_ VERMIN.

_L. Dunce. _ Sir Jolly, Sir Jolly, Sir Jolly.

_Sir Jol. _ Don't be troubled, pr'ythee don't be troubled, da,
da.

_L. Dunce. _ But, Sir Jolly, can you guess whereabout my
wandering officer may be probably found now?

_Sir Jol. _ Found, lady? he is to be found, madam--he is to be
at my house presently, lady; he's certainly one of the finest
fellows in the world.

_L. Dunce. _ You speak like a friend, Sir Jolly.

_Sir Jol. _ His friend, lady? no, madam, his foe, his utter
enemy; I shall be his ruin, I shall undo him.

_L. Dunce. _ You may, if you please, then come both and play
at cards this evening with me for an hour or two; for I have
contrived it so, that Sir Davy is to be abroad at supper
to-night; he cannot possibly avoid it; I long to win some of
the captain's money strangely.

_Sir Jol. _ Do you so, my gamester? Well, I'll be sure to bring
him, and for what he carries about him, I'll warrant you--odd,
he's a pretty fellow, a very pretty fellow, he has only one
fault.

_L. Dunce. _ And what is that I beseech you, sir?

_Sir Jol. _ Only too loving, too good-natured, that's all; 'tis
certainly the best-natured fool breathing, that's all his fault.

_L. Dunce. _ Hist, hist, I think I see company coming; if you
please, Sir Jolly, we'll go in.

_Enter_ BEAUGARD, _followed by_ Sir DAVY _and_
VERMIN.

_Sir Jol. _ Mum, mum, mum, 'tis he himself, the very same; odds
so, Sir Davy after him too! Hush, hush, hush, let us be gone,
let us retire. Do but look upon him now, mind him a little;
there's a shape, there's an air, there's a motion! Ah, rogue,
ah, devil, get you in, get you in, I say. There's a shape for
you! [_Exit_ Lady DUNCE.

_Beau. _ What the devil shall I do to recover this day's loss
again? my honourable pimp too, my pander knight has forsaken
me; methinks I am quandaried, like one going with a party to
discover the enemy's camp, but had lost his guide upon the
mountains. Curse on him, old Argus is here again; there can be
no good fortune towards me when he's at my heels.

_Sir Dav. _ Sir, sir, sir, one word with you, sir!