No More Learning

[_Strikes him on the shoulder. _

_Sir Dav. _ Who the devil's this? Sir, sir, sir, who are you,
sir?

_Beau. _ Ay, ay, 'tis the same; now a pox of all amorous
adventures! 'sdeath, I'll go beat the impertinent pimp that
drew me into this fooling.

_Sir Dav. _ Sir, methinks you are very curious.

_Beau. _ Sir, perhaps I have an extraordinary reason to be so.

_Sir Dav. _ And perhaps, sir, I care not for you, nor your
reasons neither.

_Beau. _ Sir, if you are at leisure, I would beg the honour to
speak with you.

_Sir Dav. _ With me, sir? what's your business with me?

_Beau. _ I would not willingly be troublesome, though it may be
I am so at this time.

_Sir Dav. _ It may be so too, sir.

_Beau. _ But to be known to so worthy a person as you are, would
be so great an honour, so extraordinary a happiness, that I
could not avoid taking this opportunity of tendering you my
service.

_Sir Dav. _ [_Aside. _] Smooth rogue! who the devil is this
fellow? But, sir, you were pleased to nominate business, sir; I
desire with what speed you can to know your business, sir, that
I may go about my business.

_Beau. _ Sir, if I might with good manners, I should be glad
to inform myself whose picture that is which you have in your
hand; methinks it is a very fine painting.

_Sir Dav. _ Picture, friend, picture! sir, 'tis a resemblance
of a very impudent fellow; they call him Captain Beaugard,
forsooth, but he is in short a rake-hell, a poor, lousy,
beggarly, disbanded devil; do you know him, friend?

_Beau. _ I think I have heard of such a vagabond: the truth on't
is, he is a very impudent fellow.

_Sir Dav. _ Ay, a damned rogue.

_Beau. _ Oh, a notorious scoundrel.

_Sir Dav. _ I expect to hear he's hanged by next sessions.

_Beau. _ The truth on't is, he has deserved it long ago. But did
you ever see him, Sir Davy?

_Sir Dav. _ Sir! --does he know me? [_Aside. _

_Beau. _ Because I fancy that miniature is very like him. Pray,
sir, whence had it you?

_Sir Dav. _ Had it, friend? had it? whence had it I? [_Aside. _]
Bless us! [_Compares the picture with_ BEAUGARD'S _face_. ] what
have I done now! this is the very traitor himself; if he should
be desperate now, and put his sword in my guts! --slitting my
nose will be as bad as that, I have but one eye left neither,
and may be--Oh, but this is the King's Court; odd, that's
well remembered; he dares not but be civil here. I'll try to
out-huff him. Whence had it you?

_Beau. _ Ay, sir, whence had it you? that's English in my
country, sir.

_Sir Dav. _ Go, sir, you are a rascal.

_Beau. _ How!

_Sir Dav. _ Sir, I say you are a rascal, a very impudent rascal;
nay, I'll prove you to be a rascal, if you go to that--

_Beau. _ Sir, I am a gentleman and a soldier.

_Sir Dav. _ So much the worse; soldiers have been cuckold-makers
from the beginning: sir, I care not what you are; for aught I
know you may be a--come, sir, did I never see you? Answer me
to that; did I never see you? for aught I know you may be a
Jesuit; there were more in the last army beside you.

_Beau. _ Of your acquaintance, and be hanged!

_Sir Dav. _ Yes, to my knowledge there were several at
Hounslow-heath, disguised in dirty petticoats, and cried
brandy. I knew a sergeant of foot that was familiar with one
of them all night in a ditch, and fancied him a woman; but the
devil is powerful.

_Beau. _ In short, you worthy villain of worship, that picture
is mine, and I must have it, or I shall take an opportunity to
kick your worship most inhumanly.

_Sir Dav. _ Kick, sir!

_Beau. _ Ay, sir, kick; 'tis a recreation I can show you.

_Sir Dav. _ Sir, I am a free-born subject of England, and there
are laws, look you, there are laws; so I say you are a rascal
again, and now how will you help yourself, poor fool?

_Beau. _ Hark you, friend, have not you a wife?

_Sir Dav. _ I have a lady, sir--oh, and she's mightily taken
with this picture of yours; she was so mightily proud of it,
she could not forbear showing it me, and telling too who it was
sent it her.

_Beau. _ And has she been long a jilt? has she practised the
trade for any time?

_Sir Dav. _ Trade! humph, what trade? what trade, friend?

_Beau. _ Why the trade of whore and no whore, caterwauling in
jest, putting out Christian colours, when she's a Turk under
deck. A curse upon all honest women in the flesh, that are
whores in the spirit!

_Sir Dav. _ Poor devil, how he rails! ha, ha, ha! Look you,
sweet soul, as I told you before, there are laws, there are
laws, but those are things not worthy your consideration:
beauty's your business. But, dear vagabond, trouble thyself
no further about my spouse; let my doxy rest in peace, she's
meat for thy master, old boy; I have my belly-full of her every
night.

_Beau. _ Sir, I wish all your noble family hanged from the
bottom of my heart.

_Sir Dav. _ Moreover, Captain Swash, I must tell you my wife
is a honest woman, of a virtuous disposition, one that I have
loved from her infancy, and she deserves it by her faithful
dealing in this affair, for that she has discovered loyally to
me the treacherous designs laid against her chastity, and my
honour.

_Beau. _ By this light, the beast weeps! [_Aside. _

_Sir Dav. _ Truly I cannot but weep for joy, to think how
happy I am in a sincere, faithful, and loving yoke-fellow.
She charged me too to tell you into the bargain, that she is
sufficiently satisfied of the most secret wishes of your heart.

_Beau. _ I'm glad on't.

_Sir Dav. _ And that 'tis her desire that you would trouble
yourself no more about the matter.

_Beau. _ With all my heart.

_Sir Dav. _ But henceforward behave yourself with such
discretion as becomes a gentleman.

_Beau. _ Oh, to be sure, most exactly!

_Sir Dav. _ And let her alone to make the best use of those
innocent freedoms I allow her, without putting her reputation
in hazard.

_Beau. _ As how, I beseech you?

_Sir Dav. _ By your impertinent and unseasonable address.

_Beau. _ And this news you bring me by a particular commission
from your sweet lady?

_Sir Dav. _ Yea, friend, I do; and she hopes you'll be sensible,
dear heart, of her good meaning by it: these were her very
words, I neither add nor diminish, for plain-dealing is my
mistress's friend.

_Beau. _ Then all the curses I shall think on this twelvemonth
light on her, and as many more on the next fool that gives
credit to the sex!

_Sir Dav. _ Well, certainly I am the happiest toad! How
melancholy the monkey stands now! Poor pug, hast thou lost her?

_Beau. _ To be so sordid a jilt, to betray me to such a beast as
that! Can she have any good thoughts of such a swine? Damn her,
had she abused me handsomely it had never vexed me.

_Sir Dav. _ Now, sir, with your permission I'll take my leave.

_Beau. _ Sir, if you were gone to the devil I should think you
very well disposed of.

_Sir Dav. _ If you have any letter, or other commendation to
the lady that was so charmed with your resemblance there, it
shall be very faithfully conveyed by--

_Beau. _ Fool!

_Sir Dav. _ Your humble servant. Sir, I'm gone; I shall disturb
you no further; your most humble servant, sir. [_Exit. _

_Beau. _ Now poverty, plague, pox, and prison fall thick upon
the head of thee! --Fourbin!

_Four. _ Sir!

_Beau. _ Thou hast been an extraordinary rogue in thy time.

_Four. _ I hope I have lost nothing in your honour's service,
sir.

_Beau. _ Find out some way to revenge me on this old rascal, and
if I do not make thee a gentleman--

_Four. _ That you have been pleased to do long ago, I thank you;
for I am sure you have not left me one shilling in my pocket
these two months.

_Beau. _ Here, here's for thee to revel withal. [_Gives money. _

_Four. _ Will your honour please to have his throat cut?

_Beau. _ With all my heart.

_Four. _ Or would you have him decently hanged at his own door,
and then give out to the world he did it himself?

_Beau. _ That would do very well.

_Four. _ Or I think (to proceed with more safety) a good stale
jakes[36] were a very pretty expedient.

_Beau. _ Excellent, excellent, Fourbin!

_Four. _ Leave matters to my discretion, and if I do not--

_Beau. _ I know thou wilt; go, go about it, prosper, and be
famous. [_Exit_ FOURBIN. ] Now ere I dare venture to meet
Courtine again, will I go by myself, rail for an hour or two,
and then be good company. [_Exit. _

_Enter_ COURTINE _and_ SYLVIA.

_Sylv. _ Take my word, sir, you had better give this business
over. I tell you, there's nothing in the world turns my stomach
so much as the man, that man that makes love to me. I never saw
one of your sex in my life make love, but he looked so like an
ass all the while, that I blushed for him.

_Cour.
_ I am afraid your ladyship then is one of those
dangerous creatures they call she-wits, who are always so
mightily taken with admiring themselves that nothing else is
worth their notice.

_Sylv. _ Oh, who can be so dull, not to be ravished with that
roisterous mien of yours, that ruffling air in your gait,
that seems to cry where'er you go, "Make room, here comes the
captain! " that face which bids defiance to the weather? Bless
us! if I were a poor farmer's wife in the country now, and you
wanted quarters, how would it fright me! But as I am young, not
very ugly, and one you never saw before, how lovingly it looks
upon me!

_Cour. _ Who can forbear to sigh, look pale, and languish, where
beauty and wit unite both their forces to enslave a heart so
tractable as mine is? First, for that modish swim of your body,
the victorious motion of your arms and head, the toss of your
fan, the glancing of the eyes--bless us! if I were a dainty
fine-dressed coxcomb, with a great estate, and a little or no
wit, vanity in abundance and good for nothing, how would they
melt and soften me! but as I am a scandalous honest rascal, not
fool enough to be your sport, nor rich enough to be your prey,
how gloatingly they look upon me!

_Sylv. _ Alas, alas! what pity 'tis your honesty should ever do
you hurt, or your wit spoil your preferment!

_Cour. _ Just as much, fair lady, as that your beauty should
make you be envied at, or your virtue provoke scandal.

_Sylv. _ Well, the more I look, the more I'm in love with you.

_Cour. _ The more I look, the more I am out of love with you.

_Sylv. _ How my heart swells when I see you!

_Cour. _ How my stomach rises when I am near you!

_Sylv. _ Nay, then let's bargain.

_Cour. _ With all my heart; what?

_Sylv. _ Not to fall in love with each other; I assure you,
Monsieur Captain.

_Cour. _ But to hate one another constantly and cordially.

_Sylv. _ Always when you are drunk, I desire you to talk
scandalously of me.

_Cour. _ Ay, and when I am sober too; in return whereof,
whene'er you see a coquette of your acquaintance, and I chance
to be named, be sure you spit at the filthy remembrance, and
rail at me as if you loved me.

_Sylv. _ In the next place, whene'er we meet in the Mall, I
desire you to "Humph! " put out your tongue, make ugly mouths,
laugh aloud, and look back at me.

_Cour. _ Which, if I chance to do, be sure at next turning to
pick up some tawdry fluttering fop or another.

_Sylv. _ That I made acquaintance withal at the music-meeting?

_Cour. _ Right, just such another spark to saunter by your side,
with his hat under his arm.

_Sylv. _ Hearkening to all the bitter things I can say to be
revenged.

_Cour. _ Whilst the dull rogue dare not so much as grin to
oblige you, for fear of being beaten for it, when he is out of
his waiting.

_Sylv. _ Counterfeit your letters from me.

_Cour. _ And you, to be even with me for the scandal, publish to
all the world I offered to marry you.

_Sylv. _ O hideous marriage!

_Cour. _ Horrid, horrid marriage!

_Sylv. _ Name, name no more of it!

_Cour. _ At that sad word let's part.

_Sylv. _ Let's wish all men decrepit, dull, and silly.

_Cour. _ And every woman old and ugly.

_Sylv. _ Adieu!

_Cour. _ Farewell!

_Enter_ FRISK, _a young fellow affectedly dressed, several_
_others with him_.

_Sylv. _ Ah me, Mr. Frisk!

_Frisk. _ Mademoiselle Sylvia! sincerely as I hope to be saved,
the devil take me--damme, madam, who's that?

_Sylv. _ Ha, ha, ha, hea! [_Exit with_ FRISK.

_Cour. _ True to thy failings always, woman! how naturally is
the sex fond of a rogue! What a monster was that for a woman
to delight in! Now must I love her still, though I know I'm a
blockhead for't, and she'll use me like a blockhead too, if I
don't prevent her. What's to be done? I'll have three whores a
day, to keep love out of my head.

_Re-enter_ BEAUGARD.

Beaugard, well met again; how go matters? handsomely?

_Beau. _ Oh, very handsomely! had you but seen how handsomely I
was used just now, you would swear so. I have heard thee rail
in my time; would thou wouldst exercise thy talent a little at
present!

_Cour. _ At what?

_Beau. _ Why, canst thou ever want a subject? rail at thyself,
rail at me--I deserve to be railed at. See there, what
thinkest thou of that engine, that moving lump of filthiness,
miscalled a man?

_A clumsy fellow marches over the Stage, dressed like_
_an_ Officer.

_Cour. _ Curse on him for a rogue, I know him.

_Beau. _ So.

_Cour. _ The rascal was a retailer of ale but yesterday, and
now he is an officer and be hanged; 'tis a dainty sight in a
morning to see him with his toes turned in, drawing his legs
after him, at the head of a hundred lusty fellows. Some honest
gentleman or other stays now, because that dog had money to
bribe some corrupt colonel withal.

_Enter another, gravely dressed. _

_Beau. _ There, there's another of my acquaintance; he was my
father's footman not long since, and has pimped for me oftener
than he prayed for himself; that good quality recommended him
to a nobleman's service, which, together with flattering,
fawning, lying, spying and informing, has raised him to an
employment of trust and reputation, though the rogue can't
write his name, nor read his neck-verse,[37] if he had occasion.

_Cour. _ 'Tis as unreasonable to expect a man of sense should
be preferred, as 'tis to think a hector can be stout, a priest
religious, a fair woman chaste, or a pardoned rebel loyal.

_Enter two others, seeming earnestly in discourse. _

_Beau. _ That's seasonably thought on. Look there, observe but
that fellow on the right hand, the rogue with the busiest face
of the two; I'll tell thee his history.

_Cour. _ I hope hanging will be the end of his history, so well
I like him at the first sight.

_Beau. _ He was born a vagabond, and no parish owned him: his
father was as obscure as his mother public; everybody knew her,
and nobody could guess at him.

_Cour. _ He comes of a very good family, Heaven be praised!

_Beau. _ The first thing he chose to rise by was rebellion; so a
rebel he grew, and flourished a rebel; fought against his king,
and helped to bring him to the block.

_Cour. _ And was he not religious too?

_Beau. _ Most devoutly! he could pray till he cried, and preach
till he foamed; which excellent talent made him popular,
and at last preferred him to be a worthy member of that
never-to-be-forgotten Rump Parliament.

_Cour. _ Pray, sir, be uncovered at that, and remember it with
reverence.

_Beau. _ In short, he was a committee-man, sequestrator and
persecutor-general of a whole county, by which he got enough at
the king's return to secure himself in the general pardon.

_Cour. _ Nauseous vermin! that such a swine, with the mark of
rebellion in his forehead, should wallow in his luxury, whilst
honest men are forgotten!

_Beau. _ Thus forgiven, thus raised, and made thus happy, the
ungrateful slave disowns the hand that healed him, cherishes
factions to affront his master, and once more would rebel
against the head which so lately saved his from a pole.

_Cour. _ What a dreadful beard and swinging sword he wears!

_Beau. _ 'Tis to keep his cowardice in countenance; the rascal
will endure kicking most temperately for all that; I know five
or six more of the same stamp, that never come abroad without
terrible long spits by their sides, with which they will let
you bore their own noses if you please. But let the villain be
forgotten.

_Cour. _ His co-rogue I have some knowledge of; he's a tattered
worm-eaten case-putter; some call him lawyer; one that takes it
very ill he is not made a judge.

_Beau. _ Yes, and is always repining that men of parts are not
regarded.

_Cour. _ He has been a great noise-maker in factious clubs these
seven years, and now I suppose is courting that worshipful
rascal, to make him recorder of some factious town.

_Beau. _ To teach tallow-chandlers and cheesemongers how far
they may rebel against their king by virtue of Magna Charta.

_Cour. _ But, friend Beaugard, methinks thou art very splenetic
of a sudden: how goes the affair of love forward? prosperously,
ha?

_Beau. _ Oh, I assure you most triumphantly; just now, you must
know, I am parted with the sweet, civil, enchanted lady's
husband.

_Cour. _ Well, and what says the cuckold? is he very kind and
good-natured, as cuckolds use to be?

_Beau. _ Why, he says, Courtine, in short, that I am a very
silly fellow--and truly I am very apt to believe him--and that
I have been jilted in this affair most unconscionably. A plague
on all pimps, I say; a man's business never thrives so well as
when he is his own solicitor.

_Enter_ Sir JOLLY JUMBLE _and a_ Boy.

_Sir Jol. _ Hist, hist! Captain! Captain! Captain! --Boy.

_Boy. _ Sir.

_Sir Jol. _ Run and get two chairs[38] presently; be sure you
get two chairs, sirrah, do you hear? Here's luck, here's luck!
now or never, captain; never if not now, captain! here's luck!

_Beau. _ Sir Jolly, no more adventures, sweet Sir Jolly; I am
like to have a very fine time on't truly.

_Sir Jol. _ The best in the world, dear dog, the very best in
the world; 'sbud, she's here hard by, man; stays on purpose
for thee, finely disguised. The cuckold has lost her too; and
nobody, knows anything of the matter but I, nobody but I; and
I, you must know, I am I, ha! and I, you little toad, ha!

_Beau. _ You are a very fine gentleman.

_Sir Jol. _ The best-natured fellow in the world, I believe, of
my years! Now does my heart so thump for fear this business
should miscarry: why, I'll warrant thee the lady is here, man;
she's all thy own; 'tis thy own fault if thou art not in _terra
incognita_ within this half-hour: come along, pr'ythee come
along; fie for shame! what, make a lady lose her longing! come
along, I say, you--out upon't!

_Beau. _ Sir, your humble, I shan't stir.

_Sir Jol. _ What, not go?

_Beau. _ No, sir, no lady for me.

_Sir Jol. _ Not go! I should laugh at that, faith!

_Beau. _ No, I will assure you, not go, sir.