No More Learning

_ Eat a man's heart, friend?

_Four. _ Ay, ay, a man's heart, sir; it makes absolutely the
best ragout in the world: I have eaten forty of 'em in my time
without bread.

_Sir Dav. _ O Lord, a man's heart! my humble service to you
both, gentlemen.

_Bloody-B. _ Why, your Algerine pirates eat nothing else at sea;
they have them always potted up like venison: your well-grown
Dutchman's heart makes an excellent dish with oil and pepper.

_Sir Dav. _ O Lord, O Lord! friend, friend, a word with you: how
much must you and your companion have to do this business?

_Four. _ What, and bring you the heart home to your house?

_Sir Dav. _ No, no, keeping the heart for your own eating. --I'll
be rid of 'em as soon as possible I can.

[_Aside. _

_Four. _ You say, sir, he's a gentleman?

_Sir Dav. _ Ay, such a sort of gentleman as are about this town:
the fellow has a pretty handsome outside; but I believe little
or no money in his pockets.

_Four. _ Therefore we are like to have the honour to receive the
more from your worship's bounty.

_Bloody-B. _ For my part, I care for no man's bounty: I expect
to have my bargain performed, and I'll make as good a one as I
can.

_Sir Dav. _ Look you, friend, don't you be angry, friend; don't
be angry, friend, before you have occasion: you say you'll
have--let's see how much will you have now--I warrant the devil
and all, by your good will.

_Four. _ Truly, Sir Davy, if, as you say, the man must be well
murdered, without any remorse or mercy, betwixt Turk and Jew,
'tis honestly worth two hundred pounds.

_Sir Dav. _ Two hundred pounds! why, I'll have a physician shall
kill a whole family for half the money.

_Bloody-B. _ Damme, sir, how do ye mean?

_Sir Dav. _ Damme, sir, how do I mean? Damme, sir, not to part
with my money.

_Bloody-B. _ Not part, brother?

_Four. _ Brother, the wight is improvable, and this must not be
borne withal.

_Bloody-B. _ Have I for this dissolved Circean charms?
Broke iron durance; whilst from these firm legs
The well-filed, useless fetters dropped away,
And left me master of my native freedom?

_Sir Dav. _ What does he mean now?

_Four. _ Truly, sir, I am sorry to see it with all my heart;
'tis a distraction that frequently seizes him, though I am
sorry it should happen so unluckily at this time.

_Sir Dav. _ Distracted, say you? is he so apt to be distracted?

_Four. _ Oh, sir, raging mad; we that live by murder are all so;
guilt will never let us sleep. I beseech you, sir, stand clear
of him; he's apt to be very mischievous at these unfortunate
hours.

_Bloody-B. _ Have I been drunk with tender infants' blood,
And ripped up teeming wombs? Have these bold hands
Ransacked the temples of the gods, and stabbed
The priests before their altars? Have I done this? ha!

_Sir Dav. _ No, sir, not that I know, sir; I would not say any
such thing for all the world, sir. Worthy gentleman, I beseech
you, sir--you seem to be a civil person--I beseech you, sir, to
mitigate his passion. I'll do anything in the world; you shall
command my whole estate.

_Four. _ Nay, after all, sir, if you have not a mind to have him
quite murdered, if a swingeing drubbing to bed-rid him, or so,
will serve your turn, you may have it at a cheaper rate a great
deal.

_Sir Dav. _ Truly, sir, with all my heart; for methinks, now I
consider matters better, I would not by any means be guilty of
another man's blood.

_Four. _ Why, then let me consider: to have him beaten
substantially, a beating that will stick by him, will cost
you--half the money.

_Sir Dav. _ What, one hundred pounds! sure the devil's in you,
or you would not be so unconscionable.

_Bloody-B. _ The devil! where? where is the devil? show me;
I'll tell thee, Beelzebub, thou'st broke thy covenant;
Didst thou not promise me eternal plenty,
When I resigned my soul to thy allurements?

_Sir Dav. _ Ah, Lord!

_Bloody-B. _ Touch me not yet; I've yet ten thousand murders
To act before I'm thine: with all those sins
I'll come with full damnation to thy caverns
Of endless pain, and howl with thee for ever.

_Sir Dav. _ Bless us! what will become of this mortal body of
mine? Where am I? is this a house? do I live? am I flesh and
blood?

_Bloody-B. _ There, there's the fiend again! don't chatter so,
And grin at me; if thou must needs have prey,
Take here, take him, this tempter that would bribe me,
With shining gold,
To stain my hands with new iniquity.

_Sir Dav. _ Stand off, I charge thee, Satan, wheresoe'er thou
art; thou hast no right nor claim to me; I'll have thee bound
in necromantic charms. Hark you, friend, has the gentleman
given his soul to the devil?

_Four. _ Only pawned it a little; that's all.

_Sir Dav. _ Let me beseech you, sir, to despatch, and get rid
of him as soon as you can. I would gladly drink a bottle with
you, sir, but I hate the devil's company mortally: as for the
hundred pound here, it is ready; no more words, I'll submit to
your good-nature and discretion.

_Four. _ Then, wretch, take this, and make thy peace with the
infernal king; he loves riches; sacrifice and be at rest.

_Bloody-B. _ 'Tis done, I'll follow thee, lead on; nay, if thou
smile, I more defy thee; fee, fa, fum. [_Exit. _

_Four. _ 'Tis very odd, this.

_Sir Dav. _ Very odd, indeed; I'm glad he's gone, though.

_Four. _ Now, sir, if you please, we'll refresh ourselves with a
cheerful glass, and so _chacun chez lui_--I would fain make the
gull drunk a little, to put a little mettle into him. [_Aside. _

_Sir Dav. _ With all my heart, sir; but no more words of the
devil, if you love me.

_Four. _ The devil's an ass, sir, and here's a health to all
those that defy the devil.

_Sir Dav. _ With all my heart, and all his works too.

_Four. _ Nay, sir, you must do me right,[45] I assure you.

_Sir Dav. _ Not so full, not so full, that's too much of all
conscience: in troth, friend, these are sad times, very sad
times; but here's to you.

_Four. _ Pox o' the times! the times are well enough, so long as
a man has money in his pocket.

_Sir Dav. _ 'Tis true, here I have been bargaining with you
about a murder, but never consider that idolatry is coming in
full speed upon the nation. Pray what religion are you of,
friend?

_Four. _ What religion am I of, sir? Sir, your humble servant.

_Sir Dav. _ Truly a good conscience is a great happiness; and so
I'll pledge you, hemph, hemph. But shan't the dog be murdered
this night?

_Four. _ My brother rogue is gone by this time to set him, and
the business shall be done effectually, I'll warrant you.
Here's rest his soul.

_Sir Dav. _ With all my heart, faith; I hate to be uncharitable.

_Re-enter_ COURTINE _and_ Drawer.

_Cour. _ Look you, 'tis a very impudent thing not to be drunk by
this time: shall rogues stay in taverns to sip pints, and be
sober, when honest gentlemen are drunk by gallons? I'll have
none on't.

_Sir Dav. _ O Lord, who's there? [_Sits up in his chair. _

_Draw. _ I beseech your honour--our house will be utterly ruined
by this means.

_Cour. _ Damn your house, your wife and children, and all your
family, you dog! --Sir, who are you?

[_To_ Sir DAVY.

_Sir Dav. _ Who am I, sir? what's that to you, sir? Will you
tickle my foot, you rogue?

_Cour. _ I'll tickle your guts, you poltroon, presently.

_Sir Dav. _ Tickle my guts, you mad-cap! I'll tickle your toby,
if you do.

_Cour. _ What, with that circumcised band? that grave
hypocritical beard, of the reformation-cut? Old fellow, I
believe you are a rogue.

_Sir Dav. _ Sirrah, you are a whore, an arrant bitch-whore; I'll
use you like a whore; I'll kiss you, you jade; I'll ravish you,
you buttock; I am a justice of the peace, sirrah, and that's
worse.

_Cour. _ Damn you, sir, I care not if you were a constable and
all his watch: what, such a rogue as you send honest fellows
to prison, and countenance whores in your jurisdiction for
bribery, you mongrel! I'll beat you, sirrah, I'll brain you;
I'll murder you, you mooncalf! [_Throws the chair after him. _

_Sir Dav. _ Sir, sir, sir! constable! watch! stocks! stocks!
stocks! murder! [_Exit. _

_Cour. _ Huzza, Beaugard!

_Re-enter_ BEAUGARD _and_ Sir JOLLY JUMBLE.

_Four. _ Well, sir, the business is done; we have bargained to
murder you.

_Beau. _ Murdered! who's to be murdered, ha, Fourbin?

_Sir Jol. _ You are to be murdered, friend; you shall be
murdered, friend.

_Beau. _ But how am I to be murdered? who's to murder me, I
beseech you?

_Four. _ Your humble servant, Fourbin; I am the man, with your
worship's leave: Sir Davy has given me this gold to do it
handsomely.

_Beau. _ Sir Davy! uncharitable cur; what! murder an honest
fellow for being civil to his family! What can this mean,
gentlemen?

_Sir Jol.
_ No, 'tis for not being civil to his family, that it
means, gentlemen; therefore are you to be murdered to-night,
and buried a-bed with my lady, you Jack Straw, you.

_Beau. _ I understand you, friends; the old gentleman has
designed to have me butchered, and you have kindly contrived
to turn it to my advantage in the affair of love. I am to be
murdered but as it were, gentlemen, ha? [_Exit_ COURTINE.

_Four. _ Your honour has a piercing judgment. Sir, Captain
Courtine's gone.

_Beau. _ No matter, let him go: he has a design to put in
practice this night too, and would perhaps but spoil ours. But
when, Sir Jolly, is this business to be brought about?

_Sir Jol. _ Presently; 'tis more than time 'twere done already.
Go, get you gone, I say. Hold, hold, let's see your left ear
first, hum--ha--you are a rogue, you're a rogue; get you gone,
get you gone, go. [_Exeunt. _

[Illustration]


SCENE II. --_Outside_ Sir DAVY DUNCE'S _House_.

_Enter_ SYLVIA _and her_ Maid _in the Balcony_.

_Maid. _ But why, madam, will you use him so inhumanly? I'm
confident he loves you.

_Sylv. _ Oh! a true lover is to be found out like a true saint,
by the trial of his patience. Have you the cords ready?

_Maid. _ Here they are, madam.

_Sylv. _ Let them down, and be sure, when it comes to trial, to
pull lustily. Is Will the footman ready?

_Will. _ [_Within_] At your ladyship's command, madam.

_Sylv. _ I wonder he should stay so long; the clock has struck
twelve.

_Enter_ COURTINE, _singing_.

And was she not frank and free,
And was she not kind to me,
To lock up her cat in her cupboard,
And give her key to me, to me?
To lock up her cat in her cupboard,
And give her key to me?

_Sylv. _ This must be he: ay, 'tis he, and, as I am a virgin,
roaring drunk; but, if I find not a way to make him sober--

_Cour. _ Here, here's the window: ay, that's hell-door, and my
damnation's in the inside. Sylvia, Sylvia, Sylvia! dear imp of
Satan, appear to thy servant.

_Sylv. _ Who calls on Sylvia in this dead of night,
When rest is wanting to her longing eyes?

_Cour. _ 'Tis a poor wretch can hardly stand upright,
Drunk with thy love, and if he falls he lies.

_Sylv. _ Courtine, is't you?

_Cour. _ Yes, sweetheart, 'tis I; art thou ready for me?

_Sylv. _ Fasten yourself to that cord there; there, there it is.

_Cour. _ Cord! where? Oh, oh, here, here; so, now to Heaven in a
string.

_Sylv. _ Have you done?

_Cour. _ Yes, I have done, child, and would fain be doing too,
hussy.

_Sylv. _ [_To_ WILL, _within_. ] Then pull away, hoa up, hoa up,
hoa up! So, avast there, sir!

[COURTINE _is drawn halfway up to the balcony_.

_Cour. _ Madam!

_Sylv. _ Are you very much in love, sir?

_Cour. _ Oh, damnably, child, damnably.

_Sylv. _ I am sorry for't with all my heart: good-night, captain.

_Cour. _ Ha, gone! what, left in Erasmus' paradise, between
Heaven and hell? If the constable should take me now for a
straggling monkey hung by the loins, and hunt me with his cry
of watchmen? Ah, woman, woman, woman! Well, a merry life and a
short, that's all.

[_Sings_] God prosper long our noble king,
Our lives and safeties all!

I am mighty loyal to-night.

_Enter_ FOURBIN _and_ BLOODY-BONES, _as from_
Sir DAVY DUNCE'S _House_.

_Four. _ Murder, murder, murder! help, help, murder!

_Cour. _ Nay, if there be murder stirring, 'tis high time to
shift for myself. [_Climbs up to the balcony. _

_Sylv. _ [_Squeaking. _] Ah! [_Exeunt_ SYLVIA _and_ COURT.

_Bloody-B. _ Yonder, yonder he comes; murder, murder, murder!

[_Exeunt_ BLOODY-BONES _and_ FOURBIN.

_Enter_ Sir DAVY DUNCE.

_Sir Dav. _ 'Tis very late; but murder is a melancholy business,
and night is fit for't. I'll go home. [_Knocks. _

_Ver. _ [_Within. _] Who's there?

_Sir Dav. _ Who's there! open the door, you whelp of Babylon.

_Ver. _ Oh, sir! you're welcome home; but here is the saddest
news! here has been murder committed, sir.

_Sir Dav. _ Hold your tongue, you fool, and go to sleep; get you
in, do you hear? you talk of murder, you rogue? you meddle with
state affairs? get you in. [_Exit. _


SCENE III. --_The Entrance Hall in the same. _

Sir JOLLY JUMBLE _and_ Lady DUNCE _discovered putting_
BEAUGARD _in order, as if he were dead_.

_Sir Jol. _ Lie still, lie still, you knave, close, close, when
I bid you: you had best quest,[46] and spoil the sport, you had!

_Beau. _ But pray how long must I lie thus?

_L. Dunce. _ I'll warrant you you'll think the time mighty
tedious.

_Beau. _ Sweet creature, who can counterfeit death when you are
near him?

_Sir Jol. _ You shall, sirrah, if a body desires you a little,
so you shall; we shall spoil all else, all will be spoiled
else, man, if you do not: stretch out longer, longer yet, as
long as ever you can. So, so, hold your breath, hold your
breath; very well.

_Enter_ Maid.

_Maid. _ Madam, here comes Sir Davy.

_Sir Jol. _ Odds so, now close again as I told you, close, you
devil; now stir if you dare; stir but any part about you if you
dare now; odd, I'll hit you such a rap if you do! Lie still,
lie you still.

_Enter_ Sir DAVY DUNCE.

_Sir Dav. _ My dear, how dost thou do, my dear? I am come.

_L. Dunce. _ Ah, sir, what is't you've done? you've ruined me;
your family, your fortune, all is ruined; where shall we go, or
whither shall we fly?

_Sir Dav. _ Where shall we go! why, we'll go to bed, you little
jackadandy: why, you are not a wench, you rogue, you are a boy,
a very boy, and I love you the better for't: sirrah, hey!

_L. Dunce. _ Ah, sir, see there.

_Sir Dav. _ Bless us! a man! and bloody! what, upon my
hall-table!

_L. Dunce. _ Two ruffians brought him in just now, pronouncing
the inhuman deed was done by your command: Sir Jolly came in
the same minute, or sure I had died with my distracting fears.
How could you think on a revenge so horrid?

_Sir Dav. _ As I hope to be saved, neighbour, I only bargained
with them to bastinado him in a way, or so, as one friend might
do to another: but do you say that he is dead?

_Sir Jol. _ Dead, dead as clay; stark stiff and useless all,
nothing about him stirring, but all's cold and still. I knew
him a lusty fellow once, a very mettled fellow; 'tis a thousand
pities!

_Sir Dav. _ What shall I do? I'll throw myself upon him, kiss
his wide wounds, and weep till blind as buzzard.

_L. Dunce. _ Oh, come not near him; there's such horrid
antipathy follows all murders, his wounds would stream afresh
should you but touch him. [47]

_Sir Dav. _ Dear neighbour, dearest neighbour, friend, Sir
Jolly, as you love charity, pity my wretched case, and give me
counsel; I'll give my wife and all my estate to have him live
again; or shall I bury him in the arbour, at the upper end of
the garden?

_Sir Jol. _ Alas-a-day, neighbour, never think on't, never think
on't; the dogs will find him there, as they scrape holes to
bury bones in; there is but one way that I know of.

_Sir Dav. _ What is it, dear neighbour, what is it? You see I am
upon my knees to you; take all I have and ease me of my fears.

_Sir Jol. _ Truly the best thing that I can think of is putting
of him to bed, putting him into a warm bed, and try to fetch
him to life again; a warm bed is the best thing in the world.
My lady may do much too, she's a good woman, and, as I've been
told, understands a green wound well.

_Sir Dav. _ My dear, my dear, my dear!

_L. Dunce. _ Bear me away! oh, send me hence far off, where my
unhappy name may be a stranger, and this sad accident no more
remembered to my dishonour!

_Sir Dav. _ Ah, but my love! my joy! are there no bowels in thee?

_L. Dunce. _ What would you have me do?

_Sir Dav. _ Pr'ythee do so much as try thy skill; there may be
one dram of life left in him yet. Take him up to thy chamber,
put him into thy own bed, and try what thou canst do with him;
pr'ythee do: if thou canst but find motion in him, all may be
well yet. I'll go up to my closet in the garret, and say my
prayers in the mean while.

_L. Dunce.