No More Learning

If
he be, 'tis unconscionably done, to fright an honest man thus, who
never drew weapon wrathfully in all my life. Whatever wight he be, I am
devilishly afraid, that's certain; but, 'tis discretion to keep my own
counsel; I'll sing, that I may seem valiant.

[SOSIA _sings; and_, _as_ MERCURY _speaks_, _by little and little drops
his voice_.

_Merc. _ What saucy companion is this, that deafens us with his hoarse
voice? What midnight ballad-singer have we here? I shall teach the
villain to leave off catterwauling.

_Sos. _ I would I had courage, for his sake, that I might teach him to
call my singing catterwauling! an illiterate rogue! an enemy to the
muses, and to music.

_Merc. _ There is an ill savour that offends my nostrils and it wafteth
this way.

_Sos. _ He has smelt me out; my fear has betrayed me into this savour. I
am a dead man: the bloody villain is at his fee, fa, fum, already.

_Merc. _ Stand, who goes there?

_Sos. _ A friend.

_Merc. _ What friend?

_Sos. _ Why, a friend to all the world, that will give me leave to live
peaceably.

_Merc. _ I defy peace and all its works; my arms are out of exercise,
they have mauled nobody these three days: I long for an honourable
occasion to pound a man, and lay him asleep at the first buffet.

_Sos. _ [_Aside. _] That would almost do me a kindness; for I have been
kept waking, without tipping one wink of sleep, these three nights.

_Merc. _ Of what quality are you, fellow?

_Sos. _ Why, I am a man, fellow. --Courage, Sosia!

_Merc. _ What kind of man?

_Sos. _ Why, a two-legged man; what man should I be? [_Aside. _] I must
bear up to him, he may prove as arrant a milksop as myself.

_Merc. _ Thou art a coward, I warrant thee; do not I hear thy teeth
chatter in thy head?

_Sos. _ Ay, ay; that's only a sign they would be snapping at thy nose.
[_Aside. _] Bless me, what an arm and fist he has, with great thumbs
too; and golls and knuckle-bones of a very butcher!

_Merc. _ Sirrah, from whence came you, and whither go you; answer me
directly, upon pain of assassination.

_Sos. _ I am coming from whence I came, and am going whither I
go,--that's directly home; though this is somewhat an uncivil manner of
proceeding, at the first sight of a man, let me tell you.

_Merc. _ Then, to begin our better acquaintance, let me first make you a
small present of this box o' the ear---- [_Strikes him. _

_Sos. _ If I were as choleric a fool as you are now, here would be fine
work betwixt us two; but I am a little better bred, than to disturb the
sleeping neighbourhood; and so good-night, friend---- [_Is going. _

_Merc. _ [_Stopping him. _] Hold, sir; you and I must not part so easily;
once more, whither are you going?

_Sos. _ Why I am going as fast as I can, to get out of the reach of your
clutches. Let me but only knock at the door there.

_Merc. _ What business have you at that door, sirrah?

_Sos. _ This is our house; and, when I am got in, I will
tell you more.

_Merc. _ Whose house is this, sauciness, that you are so
familiar with, to call it ours?

_Sos. _ 'Tis mine, in the first place; and next, my
master's; for I lie in the garret, and he lies under
me.

_Merc. _ Have your master and you no names, sirrah?

_Sos. _ His name is Amphitryon; hear that, and tremble.

_Merc. _ What, my lord general?

_Sos. _ O, has his name mollified you! I have brought
you down a peg lower already, friend.

_Merc. _ And your name is----

_Sos. _ Lord, friend, you are so very troublesome--what should my name
be, but Sosia?

_Merc. _ How, Sosia, say you? how long have you taken up that name,
sirrah?

_Sos. _ Here's a fine question! Why I never took it up, friend; it was
born with me.

_Merc. _ What, was your name born Sosia? take this remembrance for that
lie. [_Beats him. _

_Sos. _ Hold, friend! you are so very flippant with your hands, you
won't hear reason: What offence has my name done you, that you should
beat me for it? _S. O. S. I. A. _ they are as civil, honest, harmless
letters, as any are in the whole alphabet.

_Merc. _ I have no quarrel to the name; but that 'tis e'en too good for
you, and 'tis none of yours.

_Sos. _ What, am not I Sosia, say you?

_Merc. _ No.

_Sos. _ I should think you are somewhat merrily disposed, if you had
not beaten me in such sober sadness. You would persuade me out of my
heathen name, would you?

_Merc. _ Say you are Sosia again, at your peril, sirrah.

_Sos. _ I dare say nothing, but thought is free; but whatever I am
called, I am Amphitryon's man, and the first letter of my name is _S. _
too. You had best tell me that my master did not send me home to my
lady, with news of his victory?

_Merc. _ I say, he did not.

_Sos. _ Lord, Lord, friend, one of us two is horribly given to lying;
but I do not say which of us, to avoid contention.

_Merc. _ I say my name is Sosia, and yours is not.

_Sos. _ I would you could make good your words; for then I should not be
beaten, and you should.

_Merc. _ I find you would be Sosia, if you durst; but if I catch you
thinking so----

_Sos. _ I hope I may think I was Sosia; and I can find no difference
between my former self, and my present self, but that I was plain Sosia
before, and now I am laced Sosia.

_Merc. _ Take this, for being so impudent to think so. [_Beats him. _

_Sos. _ [_Kneeling. _] Truce a little, I beseech thee! I would be a
stock or a stone now by my good will, and would not think at all, for
self-preservation. But will you give me leave to argue the matter
fairly with you, and promise me to depose that cudgel, if I can prove
myself to be that man that I was before I was beaten?

_Merc. _ Well, proceed in safety; I promise you I will not beat you.

_Sos. _ In the first place, then, is not this town called Thebes?

_Merc. _ Undoubtedly.

_Sos. _ And is not this house Amphitryon's?

_Merc. _ Who denies it?

_Sos. _ I thought you would have denied that too; for all hang upon a
string. Remember then, that those two preliminary articles are already
granted. In the next place, did not the aforesaid Amphitryon beat
the Teleboans, kill their king Pterelas, and send a certain servant,
meaning somebody, that for sake-sake shall be nameless, to bring a
present to his wife, with news of his victory, and of his resolution to
return to-morrow?

_Merc. _ This is all true, to a very tittle; but who is that certain
servant? there's all the question.

_Sos. _ Is it peace or war betwixt us?

_Merc. _ Peace.

_Sos. _ I dare not wholly trust that abominable cudgel; but 'tis a
certain friend of yours and mine, that had a certain name before he was
beaten out of it; but if you are a man that depend not altogether upon
force and brutality, but somewhat also upon reason, now do you bring
better proofs, that you are that same certain man; and, in order to it,
answer me to certain questions.

_Merc. _ I say I am Sosia, Amphitryon's man; what reason have you to
urge against it?

_Sos. _ What was your father's name?

_Merc. _ Davus; who was an honest husbandman, whose sister's name was
Harpage, that was married, and died in a foreign country.

_Sos. _ So far you are right, I must confess; and your wife's name is----

_Merc. _ Bromia, a devilish shrew of her tongue, and a vixen of her
hands, that leads me a miserable life; keeps me to hard duty a-bed; and
beats me every morning when I have risen from her side, without having
first----

_Sos. _ I understand you, by many a sorrowful token;--this must be I.
[_Aside. _

_Merc. _ I was once taken upon suspicion of burglary, and was whipt
through Thebes, and branded for my pains.

_Sos. _ Right, me again; but if you are I, as I begin to suspect, that
whipping and branding might have been past over in silence, for both
our credits. And yet now I think on't, if I am I, (as I am I) he
cannot be I. All these circumstances he might have heard; but I will
now interrogate him upon some private passages. --What was the present
that Amphitryon sent by you or me, no matter which of us, to his wife
Alcmena?

_Merc. _ A buckle of diamonds, consisting of five large stones.

_Sos. _ And where are they now?

_Merc. _ In a case, sealed with my master's coat of arms.

_Sos. _ This is prodigious, I confess; but yet 'tis nothing, now I think
on't; for some false brother may have revealed it to him. [_Aside. _]
But I have another question to ask you, of somewhat that passed only
betwixt myself and me;--if you are Sosia, what were you doing in the
heat of battle?

_Merc. _ What a wise man should, that has respect for his own person. I
ran into our tent, and hid myself amongst the baggage.

_Sos. _ [_Aside. _] Such another cutting answer; and I must provide
myself of another name. --[_To him. _] And how did you pass your time in
that same tent? You need not answer to every circumstance so exactly
now; you must lie a little, that I may think you the more me.

_Merc. _ That cunning shall not serve your turn, to circumvent me out
of my name: I am for plain naked truth. There stood a hogshead of old
wine, which my lord reserved for his own drinking----

_Sos. _ [_Aside. _] O the devil! as sure as death, he must have hid
himself in that hogshead, or he could never have known that!

_Merc.
_ And by that hogshead, upon the ground, there lay the kind
inviter and provoker of good drinking----

_Sos. _ Nay, now I have caught you; there was neither inviter, nor
provoker, for I was all alone.

_Merc. _ A lusty gammon of----

_Sos. _ [_Sighing. _] Bacon! --that word has quite made an end of
me. --Let me see--this must be I, in spite of me; but let me view him
nearer.

[_Walks about_ MERCURY _with his Dark Lanthorn_.

_Merc. _ What are you walking about me for, with your dark lanthorn?

_Sos. _ No harm, friend; I am only surveying a parcel of earth here,
that I find we two are about to bargain for:--He's damnable like me,
that's certain. _Imprimis_, there's the patch upon my nose, with a pox
to him. _Item_, A very foolish face, with a long chin at end on't.
_Item_, One pair of shambling legs, with two splay feet belonging to
them; and, _summa totallis_, from head to foot all my bodily apparel.
[_To_ MERCURY. ] Well, you are Sosia; there's no denying it:--but what
am I then? for my mind gives me, I am somebody still, if I knew but who
I were.

_Merc. _ When I have a mind to be Sosia no more, then thou may'st be
Sosia again.

_Sos. _ I have but one request more to thee; that, though not as Sosia,
yet as a stranger, I may go into that house, and carry a civil message
to my lady.

_Merc. _ No, sirrah; not being Sosia, you have no message to deliver,
nor no lady in this house.

_Sos. _ Thou canst not be so barbarous, to let me lie in the streets all
night, after such a journey, and such a beating; and therefore I am
resolved to knock at the door, in my own defence.

_Merc. _ If you come near the door, I recal my word, and break off the
truce, and then expect----

[_Holds up his Cudgel. _

_Sos. _ No, the devil take me if I do expect; I have felt too well what
sour fruit that crab-tree bears: I'll rather beat it back upon the hoof
to my lord Amphitryon, to see if he will acknowledge me for Sosia;
if he does not, then I am no longer his slave; there's my freedom
dearly purchased with a sore drubbing: if he does acknowledge me, then
I am Sosia again. So far 'tis tolerably well: but then I shall have
a second drubbing for an unfortunate ambassador, as I am; and that's
intolerable. [_Exit_ SOSIA.

_Merc. _ [_Alone. _] I have fobbed off his excellency pretty well. Now
let him return, and make the best of his credentials. I think, too, I
have given Jupiter sufficient time for his consummation. --Oh, he has
taken his cue; and here he comes as leisurely, and as lank, as if he
had emptied himself of the best part of his almightyship.


SCENE II.

_Enter_ JUPITER, _leading_ ALCMENA, _followed by_ PHÆDRA. _Pages with
Torches before them. _

_Jup. _ [_To the Pages. _] Those torches are offensive; stand aloof;
For, though they bless me with thy heavenly sight,
[_To her. _
They may disclose the secret I would hide.
The Thebans must not know I have been here;
Detracting crowds would blame me, that I robbed
These happy moments from my public charge,
To consecrate to thy desired embrace;
And I could wish no witness but thyself,
For thou thyself art all I wish to please.

_Alcm. _ So long an absence, and so short a stay!
What, but one night! one night of joy and love
Could only pay one night of cares and fears,
And all the rest are an uncancelled sum! --
Curse on this honour, and this public fame;
Would you had less of both, and more of love!

_Jup. _ Alcmena, I must go.

_Alcm. _ Not yet, my lord.

_Jup. _ Indeed I must.

_Alcm. _ Indeed you shall not go.

_Jup. _ Behold the ruddy streaks o'er yonder hill;
Those are the blushes of the breaking morn,
That kindle day-light to this nether world.

_Alcm. _ No matter for the day; it was but made
To number out the hours of busy men.
Let them be busy still, and still be wretched,
And take their fill of anxious drudging day;
But you and I will draw our curtains close,
Extinguish day-light, and put out the sun.
Come back, my lord; in faith you shall retire;
You have not yet lain long enough in bed,
To warm your widowed side.

_Phæd. _ [_Aside. _] I find my lord is an excellent school-master, my
lady is so willing to repeat her lesson.

_Merc. _ [_Aside. _] That's a plaguy little devil; what a roguish eye she
has! I begin to like her strangely. She's the perquisite of my place
too; for my lady's waiting-woman is the proper fees of my lord's chief
gentleman. I have the privilege of a god too; I can view her naked
through all her clothes. Let me see, let me see;--I have discovered
something, that pleases me already.

_Jup. _ Let me not live, but thou art all enjoyment!
So charming and so sweet,
That not a night, but whole eternity,
Were well employed,
To love thy each perfection as it ought.

_Alcm. _ [_Kissing him. _] I'll bribe you with this kiss,
to stay a while.

_Jup. _ [_Kissing her. _] A bribe indeed that soon will bring me back;
But, to be just, I must restore your bribe.
How I could dwell for ever on those lips!
O, I could kiss them pale with eagerness!
So soft, by heaven! and such a juicy sweet,
That ripened peaches have not half the flavour.

_Alcm. _ Ye niggard gods! you make our lives too long;
You fill them with diseases, wants, and woes,
And only dash them with a little love,
Sprinkled by fits, and with a sparing hand:
Count all our joys, from childhood even to age,
They would but make a day of every year.
Take back your seventy years, the stint of life,
Or else be kind, and cram the quintessence
Of seventy years into sweet seventy days;
For all the rest is flat, insipid being.

_Jup. _ But yet one scruple pains me at my parting:
I love so nicely, that I cannot bear
To owe the sweets of love, which I have tasted,
To the submissive duty of a wife.
Tell me, and sooth my passion ere I go,
That, in the kindest moments of the night,
When you gave up yourself to love and me,
You thought not of a husband, but a lover?

_Alcm. _ But tell me first, why you would raise a blush
Upon my cheeks, by asking such a question?

_Jup. _ I would owe nothing to a name so dull
As husband is, but to a lover all.

_Alcm. _ You should have asked me then, when love and night,
And privacy, had favoured your demand.

_Jup. _ I ask it now, because my tenderness
Surpasses that of husbands for their wives.
O that you loved like me! then you would find
A thousand, thousand niceties in love.
The common love of sex to sex is brutal;
But love refined will fancy to itself
Millions of gentle cares, and sweet disquiets;
The being happy is not half the joy;
The manner of their happiness is all.
In me, my charming mistress, you behold
A lover that disdains a lawful title,
Such as of monarchs to successive thrones;
The generous lover holds by force of arms,
And claims his crown by conquest.

_Alcm. _ Methinks you should be pleased; I give you all
A virtuous and modest wife can give.

_Jup. _ No, no; that very name of wife and marriage
Is poison to the dearest sweets of love;
To please my niceness, you must separate
The lover from his mortal foe--the husband.
Give to the yawning husband your cold virtue;
But all your vigorous warmth, your melting sighs,
Your amorous murmurs, be your lover's part.

_Alcm. _ I comprehend not what you mean, my lord;
But only love me still, and love me thus,
And think me such as best may please your thought.

_Jup. _ There's mystery of love in all I say. --
Farewell; and when you see your husband next,
Think of your lover then.

[_Exeunt_ JUP. _and_ ALCM. _severally_;
PHÆD. _follows her_.

_Merc. _ [_Alone. _] Now I should follow him; but love has laid a
lime-twig for me, and made a lame god of me. Yet why should I love this
Phædra? She's interested, and a jilt into the bargain. Three thousand
years hence, there will be a whole nation of such women, in a certain
country, that will be called France; and there's a neighbour island,
too, where the men of that country will be all interest. O what a
precious generation will that be, which the men of the island shall
propagate out of the women of the continent! --

PHÆDRA _re-enters_.

And so much for prophecy; for she's here again, and I must love her, in
spite of me. And since I must, I have this comfort, that the greatest
wits are commonly the greatest cullies; because neither of the sexes
can be wiser than some certain parts about them will give them leave.

_Phæd. _ Well, Sosia, and how go matters?

_Merc. _ Our army is victorious.

_Phæd. _ And my servant, judge Gripus?

_Merc. _ A voluptuous gormand.

_Phæd. _ But has he gotten wherewithal to be voluptuous;
is he wealthy?

_Merc. _ He sells justice as he uses; fleeces the rich
rebels, and hangs up the poor.

_Phæd. _ Then, while he has money, he may make love to me. Has he sent
me no token?

_Merc. _ Yes, a kiss; and by the same token I am to give it you, as a
remembrance from him.

_Phæd. _ How now, impudence! A beggarly serving-man presume to kiss me?

_Merc. _ Suppose I were a god, and should make love to you?

_Phæd. _ I would first be satisfied, whether you were a poor god, or a
rich god.

_Merc. _ Suppose I were Mercury, the god of merchandise?

_Phæd. _ What! the god of small wares, and fripperies, of pedlers and
pilferers?

_Merc. _ How the gipsy despises me! [_Aside. _

_Phæd. _ I had rather you were Plutus, the god of money; or Jupiter, in
a golden shower: there was a god for us women! he had the art of making
love. Dost thou think that kings, or gods either, get mistresses by
their good faces? no, it is the gold, and the presents they can make;
there is the prerogative they have over their fair subjects.

_Merc. _ All this notwithstanding, I must tell you, pretty Phædra, I am
desperately in love with you.

_Phæd. _ And I must tell thee, ugly Sosia, thou hast not wherewithal to
be in love.

_Merc. _ Yes, a poor man may be in love, I hope.

_Phæd. _ I grant a poor rogue may be in love, but he can never make
love. Alas, Sosia, thou hast neither face to invite me, nor youth to
please me, nor gold to bribe me; and, besides all this, thou hast a
wife, poor miserable Sosia! --What, ho, Bromia!

_Merc. _ O thou merciless creature, why dost thou conjure up that sprite
of a wife?

_Phæd. _ To rid myself of that devil of a poor lover. Since you are so
lovingly disposed, I'll put you together to exercise your fury upon
your own wedlock. --What, Bromia, I say, make haste; here is a vessel of
yours, full freighted, that is going off without paying duties.

_Merc. _ Since thou wilt not let me steal custom, she shall have all the
cargo I have gotten in the wars; but thou mightst have lent me a little
creek, to smuggle in.

_Phæd. _ Why, what have you gotten, good gentleman soldier, besides a
legion of---- [_Snaps her fingers. _

_Merc. _ When the enemy was routed, I had the plundering of a tent.

_Phæd. _ That is to say, a house of canvas, with moveables of
straw. --Make haste, Bromia! ----

_Merc. _ But it was the general's own tent.

_Phæd. _ You durst not fight, I am certain; and therefore came last in,
when the rich plunder was gone beforehand. --Will you come, Bromia?

_Merc. _ Pr'ythee, do not call so loud:--A great goblet, that holds a
gallon.