No More Learning

]

SIR BENJAMIN. And I'm very sorry to hear also some bad stories against
him.

[Going. ]

CRABTREE. O He has done many mean things--that's certain!

SIR BENJAMIN. But however as He is your Brother----

[Going. ]

CRABTREE. We'll tell you all another opportunity.

[Exeunt. ]

LADY SNEERWELL. Ha! ha! ha! 'tis very hard for them to leave a subject
they have not quite run down.

SURFACE. And I believe the Abuse was no more acceptable to your Ladyship
than Maria.

LADY SNEERWELL. I doubt her Affections are farther engaged than we
imagin'd but the Family are to be here this Evening so you may as
well dine where you are and we shall have an opportunity of observing
farther--in the meantime, I'll go and plot Mischief and you shall study
Sentiments.

[Exeunt. ]




SCENE II. --SIR PETER'S House

Enter SIR PETER

SIR PETER. When an old Bachelor takes a young Wife--what is He to
expect--'Tis now six months since Lady Teazle made me the happiest
of men--and I have been the most miserable Dog ever since that ever
committed wedlock. We tift a little going to church--and came to a
Quarrel before the Bells had done ringing--I was more than once nearly
chok'd with gall during the Honeymoon--and had lost all comfort in Life
before my Friends had done wishing me Joy--yet I chose with caution--a
girl bred wholly in the country--who never knew luxury beyond one silk
gown--nor dissipation above the annual Gala of a Race-Ball--Yet she now
plays her Part in all the extravagant Fopperies of the Fashion and the
Town, with as ready a Grace as if she had never seen a Bush nor a
grass Plot out of Grosvenor-Square! I am sneered at by my old
acquaintance--paragraphed--in the news Papers--She dissipates my
Fortune, and contradicts all my Humours--yet the worst of it is I doubt
I love her or I should never bear all this. However I'll never be weak
enough to own it.

Enter ROWLEY

ROWLEY. Sir Peter, your servant:--how is 't with you Sir--

SIR PETER. Very bad--Master Rowley--very bad[. ] I meet with nothing but
crosses and vexations--

ROWLEY. What can have happened to trouble you since yesterday?

SIR PETER. A good--question to a married man--

ROWLEY. Nay I'm sure your Lady Sir Peter can't be the cause of your
uneasiness.

SIR PETER. Why has anybody told you she was dead[? ]

ROWLEY. Come, come, Sir Peter, you love her, notwithstanding your
tempers do not exactly agree.

SIR PETER. But the Fault is entirely hers, Master Rowley--I am myself,
the sweetest temper'd man alive, and hate a teasing temper; and so I
tell her a hundred Times a day--

ROWLEY. Indeed!

SIR PETER. Aye and what is very extraordinary in all our disputes she
is always in the wrong! But Lady Sneerwell, and the Set she meets at her
House, encourage the perverseness of her Disposition--then to complete
my vexations--Maria--my Ward--whom I ought to have the Power of a Father
over, is determined to turn Rebel too and absolutely refuses the man
whom I have long resolved on for her husband--meaning I suppose, to
bestow herself on his profligate Brother.

ROWLEY. You know Sir Peter I have always taken the Liberty to differ
with you on the subject of these two young Gentlemen--I only wish you
may not be deceived in your opinion of the elder. For Charles, my life
on't! He will retrieve his errors yet--their worthy Father, once my
honour'd master, was at his years nearly as wild a spark.

SIR PETER. You are wrong, Master Rowley--on their Father's Death you
know I acted as a kind of Guardian to them both--till their uncle Sir
Oliver's Eastern Bounty gave them an early independence. Of course no
person could have more opportunities of judging of their Hearts--and I
was never mistaken in my life. Joseph is indeed a model for the young
men of the Age--He is a man of Sentiment--and acts up to the Sentiments
he professes--but for the other[,] take my word for't [if] he had any
grain of Virtue by descent--he has dissipated it with the rest of his
inheritance. Ah! my old Friend, Sir Oliver will be deeply mortified when
he finds how Part of his Bounty has been misapplied.

ROWLEY. I am sorry to find you so violent against the young man because
this may be the most critical Period of his Fortune. I came hither with
news that will surprise you.

SIR PETER. What! let me hear--

ROWLEY. Sir Oliver is arrived and at this moment in Town.

SIR PETER. How! --you astonish me--I thought you did not expect him this
month! --

ROWLEY. I did not--but his Passage has been remarkably quick.

SIR PETER. Egad I shall rejoice to see my old Friend--'Tis sixteen years
since we met--We have had many a Day together--but does he still enjoin
us not to inform his Nephews of his Arrival?

ROWLEY. Most strictly--He means, before He makes it known to make some
trial of their Dispositions and we have already planned something for
the purpose.

SIR PETER. Ah there needs no art to discover their merits--however he
shall have his way--but pray does he know I am married!

ROWLEY. Yes and will soon wish you joy.

SIR PETER. You may tell him 'tis too late--ah Oliver will laugh at
me--we used to rail at matrimony together--but He has been steady to his
Text--well He must be at my house tho'--I'll instantly give orders for
his Reception--but Master Rowley--don't drop a word that Lady Teazle and
I ever disagree.

ROWLEY. By no means.

SIR PETER. For I should never be able to stand Noll's jokes; so I'd have
him think that we are a very happy couple.

ROWLEY. I understand you--but then you must be very careful not to
differ while He's in the House with you.

SIR PETER. Egad--and so we must--that's impossible. Ah! Master Rowley
when an old Batchelor marries a young wife--He deserves--no the crime
carries the Punishment along with it.

[Exeunt. ]

END OF THE FIRST ACT




ACT II




SCENE I. --SIR PETER and LADY TEAZLE

SIR PETER. Lady Teazle--Lady Teazle I'll not bear it.

LADY TEAZLE. Sir Peter--Sir Peter you--may scold or smile, according to
your Humour[,] but I ought to have my own way in everything, and what's
more I will too--what! tho' I was educated in the country I know very
well that women of Fashion in London are accountable to nobody after
they are married.

SIR PETER. Very well! ma'am very well! so a husband is to have no
influence, no authority?

LADY TEAZLE. Authority! no, to be sure--if you wanted authority over me,
you should have adopted me and not married me[:] I am sure you were old
enough.

SIR PETER. Old enough--aye there it is--well--well--Lady Teazle, tho'
my life may be made unhappy by your Temper--I'll not be ruined by your
extravagance--

LADY TEAZLE. My extravagance! I'm sure I'm not more extravagant than a
woman of Fashion ought to be.

SIR PETER. No no Madam, you shall throw away no more sums on such
unmeaning Luxury--'Slife to spend as much to furnish your Dressing Room
with Flowers in winter as would suffice to turn the Pantheon into a
Greenhouse, and give a Fete Champetre at Christmas.

LADY TEAZLE. Lord! Sir Peter am I to blame because Flowers are dear in
cold weather? You should find fault with the Climate, and not with me.
For my Part I'm sure I wish it was spring all the year round--and that
Roses grew under one's Feet!

SIR PETER. Oons! Madam--if you had been born to those Fopperies I
shouldn't wonder at your talking thus;--but you forget what your
situation was when I married you--

LADY TEAZLE. No, no, I don't--'twas a very disagreeable one or I should
never nave married you.

SIR PETER. Yes, yes, madam, you were then in somewhat a humbler
Style--the daughter of a plain country Squire. Recollect Lady Teazle
when I saw you first--sitting at your tambour in a pretty figured linen
gown--with a Bunch of Keys at your side, and your apartment hung round
with Fruits in worsted, of your own working--

LADY TEAZLE. O horrible! --horrible! --don't put me in mind of it!

SIR PETER. Yes, yes Madam and your daily occupation to inspect
the Dairy, superintend the Poultry, make extracts from the Family
Receipt-book, and comb your aunt Deborah's Lap Dog.

LADY TEAZLE. Abominable!

SIR PETER. Yes Madam--and what were your evening amusements? to draw
Patterns for Ruffles, which you hadn't the materials to make--play Pope
Joan with the Curate--to read a sermon to your Aunt--or be stuck down to
an old Spinet to strum your father to sleep after a Fox Chase.

LADY TEAZLE. Scandalous--Sir Peter not a word of it true--

SIR PETER. Yes, Madam--These were the recreations I took you from--and
now--no one more extravagantly in the Fashion--Every Fopery adopted--a
head-dress to o'er top Lady Pagoda with feathers pendant horizontal and
perpendicular--you forget[,] Lady Teazle--when a little wired gauze with
a few Beads made you a fly Cap not much bigger than a blew-bottle, and
your Hair was comb'd smooth over a Roll--

LADY TEAZLE. Shocking! horrible Roll! !

SIR PETER. But now--you must have your coach--Vis-a-vis, and three
powder'd Footmen before your Chair--and in the summer a pair of white
cobs to draw you to Kensington Gardens--no recollection when y ou were
content to ride double, behind the Butler, on a docked Coach-Horse?

LADY TEAZLE. Horrid! --I swear I never did.

SIR PETER. This, madam, was your situation--and what have I not done
for you? I have made you woman of Fashion of Fortune of Rank--in short I
have made you my wife.

LADY TEAZLE. Well then and there is but one thing more you can make me
to add to the obligation.

SIR PETER. What's that pray?

LADY TEAZLE. Your widow. --

SIR PETER. Thank you Madam--but don't flatter yourself for though your
ill-conduct may disturb my Peace it shall never break my Heart I promise
you--however I am equally obliged to you for the Hint.

LADY TEAZLE. Then why will you endeavour to make yourself so
disagreeable to me--and thwart me in every little elegant expense.

SIR PETER. 'Slife--Madam I pray, had you any of these elegant expenses
when you married me?

LADY TEAZLE. Lud Sir Peter would you have me be out of the Fashion?

SIR PETER. The Fashion indeed! --what had you to do with the Fashion
before you married me?

LADY TEAZLE. For my Part--I should think you would like to have your
wife thought a woman of Taste--

SIR PETER. Aye there again--Taste! Zounds Madam you had no Taste when
you married me--

LADY TEAZLE. That's very true indeed Sir Peter! after having married you
I should never pretend to Taste again I allow.

SIR PETER. So--so then--Madam--if these are your Sentiments pray how
came I to be honour'd with your Hand?

LADY TEAZLE. Shall I tell you the Truth?

SIR PETER. If it's not too great a Favour.

LADY TEAZLE. Why the Fact is I was tired of all those agreeable
Recreations which you have so good naturally [naturedly] Described--and
having a Spirit to spend and enjoy a Fortune--I determined to marry the
first rich man that would have me.

SIR PETER. A very honest confession--truly--but pray madam was there no
one else you might have tried to ensnare but me.

LADY TEAZLE. O lud--I drew my net at several but you were the only one I
could catch.

SIR PETER. This is plain dealing indeed--

LADY TEAZLE. But now Sir Peter if we have finish'd our daily Jangle I
presume I may go to my engagement at Lady Sneerwell's?

SIR PETER. Aye--there's another Precious circumstance--a charming set of
acquaintance--you have made there!

LADY TEAZLE. Nay Sir Peter they are People of Rank and Fortune--and
remarkably tenacious of reputation.

SIR PETER. Yes egad they are tenacious of Reputation with a vengeance,
for they don't chuse anybody should have a Character but themselves!
Such a crew! Ah! many a wretch has rid on hurdles who has done less
mischief than these utterers of forged Tales, coiners of Scandal, and
clippers of Reputation.

LADY TEAZLE. What would you restrain the freedom of speech?

SIR PETER. Aye they have made you just as bad [as] any one of the
Society.

LADY TEAZLE. Why--I believe I do bear a Part with a tolerable Grace--But
I vow I bear no malice against the People I abuse, when I say an
ill-natured thing, 'tis out of pure Good Humour--and I take it for
granted they deal exactly in the same manner with me, but Sir Peter you
know you promised to come to Lady Sneerwell's too.

SIR PETER. Well well I'll call in, just to look after my own character.

LADY TEAZLE. Then, indeed, you must make Haste after me, or you'll be
too late--so good bye to ye.

SIR PETER.
So--I have gain'd much by my intended expostulation--yet
with what a charming air she contradicts every thing I say--and how
pleasingly she shows her contempt of my authority--Well tho' I can't
make her love me, there is certainly a great satisfaction in quarrelling
with her; and I think she never appears to such advantage as when she is
doing everything in her Power to plague me.

[Exit. ]




SCENE II. --At LADY SNEERWELL'S

LADY SNEERWELL, MRS. CANDOUR, CRABTREE, SIR BENJAMIN BACKBITE,
and SURFACE

LADY SNEERWELL. Nay, positively, we will hear it.

SURFACE. Yes--yes the Epigram by all means.

SiR BENJAMIN. O plague on't unkle--'tis mere nonsense--

CRABTREE. No no; 'fore gad very clever for an extempore!

SIR BENJAMIN. But ladies you should be acquainted with the
circumstances. You must know that one day last week as Lady Betty
Curricle was taking the Dust in High Park, in a sort of duodecimo
Phaeton--she desired me to write some verses on her Ponies--upon which I
took out my Pocket-Book--and in one moment produced--the following:--

'Sure never were seen two such beautiful Ponies;
Other Horses are Clowns--and these macaronies,
Nay to give 'em this Title, I'm sure isn't wrong,
Their Legs are so slim--and their Tails are so long.

CRABTREE. There Ladies--done in the smack of a whip and on Horseback
too.

SURFACE. A very Phoebus, mounted--indeed Sir Benjamin.

SIR BENJAMIN. Oh dear Sir--Trifles--Trifles.

Enter LADY TEAZLE and MARIA

MRS. CANDOUR. I must have a Copy--

LADY SNEERWELL. Lady Teazle--I hope we shall see Sir Peter?

LADY TEAZLE. I believe He'll wait on your Ladyship presently.

LADY SNEERWELL. Maria my love you look grave. Come, you sit down to
Piquet with Mr. Surface.

MARIA. I take very little Pleasure in cards--however, I'll do as you
Please.

LADY TEAZLE. I am surprised Mr. Surface should sit down her--I thought
He would have embraced this opportunity of speaking to me before Sir
Peter came--[Aside. ]

MRS. CANDOUR. Now, I'll die but you are so scandalous I'll forswear your
society.

LADY TEAZLE. What's the matter, Mrs. Candour?

MRS. CANDOUR. They'll not allow our friend Miss Vermillion to be
handsome.

LADY SNEERWELL. Oh, surely she is a pretty woman. . . .

[CRABTREE. ] I am very glad you think so ma'am.

MRS. CANDOUR. She has a charming fresh Colour.

CRABTREE. Yes when it is fresh put on--

LADY TEAZLE. O fie! I'll swear her colour is natural--I have seen it
come and go--

CRABTREE. I dare swear you have, ma'am: it goes of a Night, and comes
again in the morning.

SIR BENJAMIN. True, uncle, it not only comes and goes but what's more
egad her maid can fetch and carry it--

MRS. CANDOUR. Ha! ha! ha! how I hate to hear you talk so! But surely,
now, her Sister, is or was very handsome.

CRABTREE. Who? Mrs. Stucco? O lud! she's six-and-fifty if she's an hour!

MRS. CANDOUR. Now positively you wrong her[;] fifty-two, or fifty-three
is the utmost--and I don't think she looks more.

SIR BENJAMIN. Ah! there's no judging by her looks, unless one was to see
her Face.

LADY SNEERWELL. Well--well--if she does take some pains to repair the
ravages of Time--you must allow she effects it with great ingenuity--and
surely that's better than the careless manner in which the widow Ocre
chaulks her wrinkles.

SIR BENJAMIN. Nay now--you are severe upon the widow--come--come, it
isn't that she paints so ill--but when she has finished her Face she
joins it on so badly to her Neck, that she looks like a mended Statue,
in which the Connoisseur sees at once that the Head's modern tho' the
Trunk's antique----

CRABTREE. Ha! ha! ha! well said, Nephew!

MRS. CANDOUR. Ha! ha! ha! Well, you make me laugh but I vow I hate you
for it--what do you think of Miss Simper?

SIR BENJAMIN. Why, she has very pretty Teeth.

LADY TEAZLE. Yes and on that account, when she is neither speaking nor
laughing (which very seldom happens)--she never absolutely shuts her
mouth, but leaves it always on a-Jar, as it were----

MRS. CANDOUR. How can you be so ill-natured!

LADY TEAZLE. Nay, I allow even that's better than the Pains Mrs. Prim
takes to conceal her losses in Front--she draws her mouth till it
resembles the aperture of a Poor's-Box, and all her words appear to
slide out edgewise.

LADY SNEERWELL. Very well Lady Teazle I see you can be a little severe.

LADY TEAZLE. In defence of a Friend it is but justice, but here comes
Sir Peter to spoil our Pleasantry.

Enter SIR PETER

SIR PETER. Ladies, your obedient--Mercy on me--here is the whole set! a
character's dead at every word, I suppose.

MRS. CANDOUR. I am rejoiced you are come, Sir Peter--they have been so
censorious and Lady Teazle as bad as any one.

SIR PETER. That must be very distressing to you, Mrs. Candour I dare
swear.

MRS. CANDOUR. O they will allow good Qualities to nobody--not even good
nature to our Friend Mrs. Pursy.

LADY TEAZLE. What, the fat dowager who was at Mrs. Codrille's
[Quadrille's] last Night?

LADY SNEERWELL. Nay--her bulk is her misfortune and when she takes such
Pains to get rid of it you ought not to reflect on her.

MRS. CANDOUR. 'Tis very true, indeed.

LADY TEAZLE. Yes, I know she almost lives on acids and small whey--laces
herself by pulleys and often in the hottest noon of summer you may
see her on a little squat Pony, with her hair plaited up behind like a
Drummer's and puffing round the Ring on a full trot.

MRS. CANDOUR. I thank you Lady Teazle for defending her.

SIR PETER. Yes, a good Defence, truly!

MRS. CANDOUR. But for Sir Benjamin, He is as censorious as Miss Sallow.

CRABTREE. Yes and she is a curious Being to pretend to be censorious--an
awkward Gawky, without any one good Point under Heaven!

LADY SNEERWELL. Positively you shall not be so very severe. Miss
Sallow is a Relation of mine by marriage, and, as for her Person great
allowance is to be made--for, let me tell you a woman labours under many
disadvantages who tries to pass for a girl at six-and-thirty.

MRS. CANDOUR. Tho', surely she is handsome still--and for the weakness
in her eyes considering how much she reads by candle-light it is not to
be wonder'd at.

LADY SNEERWELL. True and then as to her manner--upon my word I think
it is particularly graceful considering she never had the least
Education[:] for you know her Mother was a Welch milliner, and her
Father a sugar-Baker at Bristow. --

SIR BENJAMIN. Ah! you are both of you too good-natured!

SIR PETER. Yes, damned good-natured! Her own relation! mercy on me!
[Aside. ]

MRS. CANDOUR. For my Part I own I cannot bear to hear a friend
ill-spoken of?

SIR PETER. No, to be sure!

SIR BENJAMIN. Ah you are of a moral turn Mrs. Candour and can sit for an
hour to hear Lady Stucco talk sentiments.

LADY SNEERWELL. Nay I vow Lady Stucco is very well with the Dessert
after Dinner for she's just like the Spanish Fruit one cracks for
mottoes--made up of Paint and Proverb.

MRS. CANDOUR. Well, I never will join in ridiculing a Friend--and so I
constantly tell my cousin Ogle--and you all know what pretensions she
has to be critical in Beauty.

LADY TEAZLE. O to be sure she has herself the oddest countenance that
ever was seen--'tis a collection of Features from all the different
Countries of the globe.

SIR BENJAMIN. So she has indeed--an Irish Front----

CRABTREE. Caledonian Locks----

SIR BENJAMIN. Dutch Nose----

CRABTREE. Austrian Lips----

SIR BENJAMIN. Complexion of a Spaniard----

CRABTREE. And Teeth a la Chinoise----

SIR BENJAMIN. In short, her Face resembles a table d'hote at Spa--where
no two guests are of a nation----

CRABTREE. Or a Congress at the close of a general War--wherein all the
members even to her eyes appear to have a different interest and her
Nose and Chin are the only Parties likely to join issue.

MRS. CANDOUR. Ha! ha! ha!

SIR PETER. Mercy on my Life[! ] a Person they dine with twice a week!
[Aside. ]

LADY SNEERWELL. Go--go--you are a couple of provoking Toads.

MRS. CANDOUR. Nay but I vow you shall not carry the Laugh off so--for
give me leave to say, that Mrs. Ogle----

SIR PETER. Madam--madam--I beg your Pardon--there's no stopping these
good Gentlemen's Tongues--but when I tell you Mrs. Candour that the Lady
they are abusing is a particular Friend of mine, I hope you'll not take
her Part.

LADY SNEERWELL. Ha! ha! ha! well said, Sir Peter--but you are a cruel
creature--too Phlegmatic yourself for a jest and too peevish to allow
wit in others.