No More Learning

"
_Dang_. Egad, though, the governor seems to make no
allowance for this poetical figure you talk of.
_Puff_. No, a plain matter-of-fact man;--that's his
character.
"_Tilb_. But will you then refuse his offer?
_Gov_. I must--I will--I can--I ought--I do.
_Tilb_. Think what a noble price.
_Gov_. No more--you urge in vain.
_Tilb_. His liberty is all he asks. "
_Sneer_. All who asks, Mr. Puff? Who is--
_Puff_. Egad, sir, I can't tell! Here has been such cutting
and slashing, I don't know where they have got to myself.
_Tilb_. Indeed, sir, you will find it will connect very
well. "--And your reward secure. "
_Puff_. Oh, if they hadn't been so devilish free with their
cutting here, you would have found that Don Whiskerandos has been
tampering for his liberty, and has persuaded Tilburina to make
this proposal to her father. And now, pray observe the
conciseness with which the argument is conducted. Egad, the
_pro_ and _con_ goes as smart as hits in a fencing
match. It is indeed a sort of small-sword-logic, which we have
borrowed from the French.
"_Tilb_. A retreat in Spain!
_Gov_. Outlawry here!
_Tilb_. Your daughter's prayer!
_Gov_. Your father's oath!
_Tilb_. My lover!
_Gov_. My country!
_Tilb_. Tilburina!
_Gov_. England!
_Tilb_. A title!
_Gov_. Honour!
_Tilb_. A pension!
_Gov_. Conscience!
_Tilb_. A thousand pounds!
_Gov_. Ha! thou hast touch'd me nearly! "
_Puff_. There you see-she threw in _Tilburina_. Quick,
parry Carte with _England_! Ha! thrust in tierce _a
title_! --parried by _honour_. Ha! _a pension_ over
the arm! --put by by _conscience_. Then flankonade with _a
thousand pounds_--and a palpable hit, egad!
"_Tilb_. Canst thou--Reject the suppliant, and the daughter
too?
_Gov_. No more; I would not hear thee plead in vain: The
father softens--but the governor Is fix'd! [_Exit_. ]"
_Dang_. Ay, that antithesis of persons is a most established
figure.
"_Tilb_. 'Tis well,--hence then, fond hopes,--fond passion
hence; Duty, behold I am all over thine--
_Whisk_. [_Without_. ] Where is my love--my--
_Tilb_. Ha!
_Enter_ DON FEROLO WHISKERANDOS.
_Whisk_. My beauteous enemy! --"
_Puff_. O dear, ma'am, you must start a great deal more than
that! Consider, you had just determined in favour of duty--when,
in a moment, the sound of his voice revives your passion--
overthrows your resolution--destroys your obedience. If you don't
express all that in your start, you do nothing at all.
_Tilb_. Well, we'll try again.
_Dang_. Speaking from within has always a fine effect.
_Sneer_. Very.
"_Whisk_. My conquering Tilburina! How! is't thus We meet?
why are thy looks averse? what means That falling tear--that
frown of boding woe? Ha! now indeed I am a prisoner! Yes, now I
feel the galling weight of these Disgraceful chains--which, cruel
Tilburina! Thy doting captive gloried in before. --But thou art
false, and Whiskerandos is undone!
_Tilb_. O no! how little dost thou know thy Tilburina!
_Whisk_. Art thou then true? --Begone cares, doubts, and
fears, I make you all a present to the winds; And if the winds
reject you--try the waves. "
_Puff_. The wind, you know, is the established receiver of
all stolen sighs, and cast-off griefs and apprehensions.
"_Tilb_. Yet must we part! --stern duty seals our doom Though
here I call yon conscious clouds to witness, Could I pursue the
bias of my soul, All friends, all right of parents, I'd disclaim,
And thou, my Whiskerandos, shouldst be father And mother,
brother, cousin, uncle, aunt, And friend to me!
_Whisk_. Oh, matchless excellence! and must we part? Well,
if--we must--we must--and in that case The less is said the
better. "
_Puff_. Heyday! here's a cut! --What, are all the mutual
protestations out?
_Tilb_. Now, pray, sir, don't interrupt us just here: you
ruin our feelings.
_Puff_. Your feelings! --but, zounds, my feelings, ma'am!
_Sneer_. No, pray don't interrupt them.
"_Whisk_. One last embrace.
_Tilb_. Now,--farewell, for ever.
_Whisk_. For ever!
_Tilb_. Ay, for ever! [_Going_. ]"
_Puff_. 'Sdeath and fury! --Gad's life! --sir! madam! if you
go out without the parting look, you might as well dance out.
Here, here!
_Con_. But pray, sir, how am I to get off here?
_Puff_. You! pshaw! what the devil signifies how you get
off! edge away at the top, or where you will--[_Pushes the_
CONFIDANT _off_. ] Now, ma'am, you see--
_Tilb_. We understand you, sir.
"Ay, for ever.
_Both_. Oh! [_Turning back, and exeunt. --Scene
closes_. ]"
_Dang_. Oh, charming!
_Puff_. Hey! --'tis pretty well, I believe: you see I don't
attempt to strike out anything new--but I take it I improve on
the established modes.
_Sneer_. You do, indeed! But pray is not Queen Elizabeth to
appear?
_Puff_. No, not once--but she is to be talked of for ever;
so that, egad, you'll think a hundred times that she is on the
point of coming in.
_Sneer_. Hang it, I think it's a pity to keep her in the
green-room all the night.
_Puff_. O no, that always has a fine effect--it keeps up
expectation.
_Dang_. But are we not to have a battle?
_Puff_. Yes, yes, you will have a battle at last: but, egad,
it's not to be by land, but by sea--and that is the only quite
new thing in the piece.
_Dang_. What, Drake at the Armada, hey?
_Puff_. Yes, i'faith--fire-ships and all; then we shall end
with the procession. Hey, that will do, I think? ,
_Sneer_. No doubt on't.
_Puff_. Come, we must not lose time; so now for the under-plot.
_Sneer_. What the plague, have you another plot?
_Puff_. O Lord, yes; ever while you live have two plots to
your tragedy. The grand point in managing them is only to let
your under-plot have as little connection with your main-plot as
possible. --I flatter myself nothing can be more distinct than
mine; for as in my chief plot the characters are all great
people, I have laid my under-plot in low life, and as the former
is to end in deep distress, I make the other end as happy as a
farce. --Now, Mr. Hopkins, as soon as you please.
_Enter_ UNDER PROMPTER.
_Under Promp_. Sir, the carpenter says it is impossible you
can go to the park scene yet.
_Puff_. The park scene! no!
I mean the description scene
here, in the wood.
_Under Promp_. Sir, the performers have cut it out.
_Puff_. Cut it out!
_Under Promp_. Yes, sir.
_Puff_. What! the whole account of Queen Elizabeth?
_Under Promp_. Yes, sir.
_Puff_. And the description of her horse and side-saddle?
_Under Promp_. Yes, sir.
_Puff_. So, so; this is very fine indeed! --Mr. Hopkins, how
the plague could you suffer this?
_Mr. Hop_. [_Within. _] Sir, indeed the pruning-knife--
_Puff_. The pruning-knife--zounds! --the axe! Why, here has
been such lopping and topping, I shan't have the bare trunk of my
play left presently! --Very well, sir--the performers must do as
they please; but, upon my soul, I'll print it every word.
_Sneer_. That I would, indeed.
_Puff_. Very well, sir; then we must go on. --Zounds! I would
not have parted with the description of the horse! --Well, sir,
go on. --Sir, it was one of the finest and most laboured things. --
Very well, sir; let them go on. --There you had him and his
accoutrements, from the bit to the crupper. --Very well, sir; we
must go to the park scene.
_Under Promp_. Sir, there is the point: the carpenters say,
that unless there is some business put in here before the drop,
they sha'n't have time to clear away the fort, or sink Gravesend
and the river.
_Puff_. So! this is a pretty dilemma, truly! --Gentlemen, you
must excuse me--these fellows will never be ready, unless I go
and look after them myself.
_Sneer_. O dear, sir, these little things will happen.
_Puff_. To cut out this scene! --but I'll print it--egad,
I'll print it every word! [_Exeunt_. ]




ACT III.

SCENE I. --_The Theatre, before the curtain. _
_Enter_ PUFF, SNEER, _and_ DANGLE.
_Puff_. Well, we are ready; now then for the justices.
[_Curtain rises. _]
"JUSTICES, CONSTABLES, &c. , _discovered_. "
_Sneer_. This, I suppose, is a sort of senate scene.
_Puff_. To be sure; there has not been one yet.
_Dang_. It is the under-plot, isn't it?
_Puff_. Yes. --What, gentlemen, do you mean to go at once to
the discovery scene?
_Just_. If you please, sir.
_Puff_. Oh, very well! --Hark'ee, I don't choose to say
anything more; but, i'faith they have mangled my play in a most
shocking manner.
_Dang_. It's a great pity!
_Puff_. Now, then, Mr. justice, if you please.
"_Just_. Are all the volunteers without?
_Const_. They are. Some ten in fetters, and some twenty
drunk.
_Just_. Attends the youth, whose most opprobrious fame And
clear convicted crimes have stamp'd him soldier?
_Const_. He waits your pleasure; eager to repay The best
reprieve that sends him to the fields Of glory, there to raise
his branded hand In honour's cause.
_Just_. 'Tis well--'tis justice arms him! Oh! may he now
defend his country's laws With half the spirit he has broke them
all! If 'tis your worship's pleasure, bid him enter.
_Const_. I fly, the herald of your will. [_Exit. _]"
_Puff_. Quick, sir.
_Sneer_. But, Mr. Puff, I think not only the justice, but
the clown seems to talk in as high a style as the first hero
among them.
_Puff_. Heaven forbid they should not in a free country! --
Sir, I am not for making slavish distinctions, and giving all the
fine language to the upper sort of people.
_Dang_. That's very noble in you, indeed.
"_Enter_ JUSTICE'S LADY. "
_Puff_. Now, pray mark this scene.
"_Lady_ Forgive this interruption, good my love; But as I
just now pass'd a prisoner youth, Whom rude hands hither lead,
strange bodings seized My fluttering heart, and to myself I said,
An' if our Tom had lived, he'd surely been This stripling's
height!
_Just_. Ha! sure some powerful sympathy directs Us both--
_Enter_ CONSTABLE _with_ Son.
What is thy name?
_Son_. My name is Tom Jenkins--_alias_ have I none--
Though orphan'd, and without a friend!
_Just_. Thy parents?
_Son_. My father dwelt in Rochester--and was, As I have
heard--a fishmonger--no more. "
_Puff_. What, sir, do you leave out the account of your
birth, parentage, and education?
_Son_ They have settled it so, sir, here.
_Puff_. Oh! oh!
"_Lady_. How loudly nature whispers to my heart Had he no
other name?
_Son_. I've seen a bill Of his sign'd Tomkins, creditor.
_Just_. This does indeed confirm each circumstance The gipsy
told! --Prepare!
_Son_. I do.
_Just_. No orphan, nor without a friend art thou--I am thy
father; here's thy mother; there Thy uncle--this thy first
cousin, and those Are all your near relations!
_Lady_. O ecstasy of bliss!
_Son_. O most unlook'd for happiness!
_Just_. O wonderful event! [_They faint alternately in
each other's arms_. ]"
_Puff_. There, you see, relationship, like murder, will out.
"_Just_. Now let's revive--else were this joy too much! But
come--and we'll unfold the rest within; And thou, my boy, must
needs want rest and food. Hence may each orphan hope, as chance
directs, To find a father--where he least expects!
[_Exeunt_. ]"
_Puff_. What do you think of that?
_Dang_. One of the finest discovery-scenes I ever saw! --
Why, this under-plot would have made a tragedy itself.
_Sneer_. Ay! or a comedy either.
_Puff_. And keeps quite clear you see of the other.
"_Enter_ SCENEMEN, _taking away the seats_. "
_Puff_. The scene remains, does it?
_Sceneman_. Yes, sir.
_Puff_. You are to leave one chair, you know. --But it is
always awkward in a tragedy, to have your fellows coming in in
your play-house liveries to remove things. --I wish that could be
managed better. --So now for my mysterious yeoman.
"_Enter_ BEEFEATER.
_Beef_. Perdition catch my soul, but I do love thee. "
_Sneer_. Haven't I heard that line before?
_Puff_. No, I fancy not. --Where, pray?
_Dang_. Yes, I think there is something like it in Othello.
_Puff_. Gad! now you put me in mind on't, I believe there
is--but that's of no consequence; all that can be said is, that
two people happened to hit upon the same thought--and Shakspeare
made use of it first, that's all.
_Sneer_. Very true.
_Puff_. Now, sir, your soliloquy--but speak more to the pit,
if you please--the soliloquy always to the pit, that's a rule.
"_Beef_. Though hopeless love finds comfort in despair, It
never can endure a rival's bliss! But soft--I am observed.
[_Exit_. ]"
_Dang_. That's a very short soliloquy.
_Puff_. Yes--but it would have been a great deal longer if
he had not been observed.
_Sneer_. A most sentimental Beefeater that, Mr. Puff!
_Puff_. Hark'ee--I would not have you be too sure that he is
a Beefeater.