No More Learning

) And now take the other end of this handkerchief! It was
given me by the strumpet herself!

MARSHAL. What, shoot over the handkerchief? Baron, are you mad? What
can you be thinking of?

FERDINAND. Lay hold of it, I say! or you will be sure to miss your aim,
coward! How the coward trembles! You should thank God, you pitiful
coward, that you have a chance for once of getting something in your
empty brain-box. (The MARSHAL takes to his heels. ) Gently, gently!
I'll take care of that. (Overtakes him and bolts the door. )

MARSHAL. Surely you will not fight in the chamber?

FERDINAND. As if you were worth the trouble of a walk beyond the
boundaries! The report, my dear fellow, will be louder, and, for the
first time, you will make some noise in the world. Now, then, take hold!

MARSHAL (wiping his forehead). Yet consider, I entreat. Would you risk
your precious life, young and promising as you are, in this desperate
manner?

FERDINAND. Take hold, I say! I have nothing more to do in this world!

MARSHAL. But I have much, my dearest, most excellent friend!

FERDINAND. Thou, wretch--thou? What hast thou to do, but to play the
stop-gap, where honest men keep aloof! To stretch or shrink seven times
in an instant, like the butterfly on a pin? To be privy registrar in
chief and clerk of the jordan? To be the cap-and-bell buffoon on which
your master sharpens his wit? Well, well, let it be so. I will carry you
about with me, as I would a marmot of rare training. You shall skip and
dance, like a tamed monkey, to the howling of the damned; fetch, carry,
and serve; and with your courtly arts enliven the wailings of everlasting
despair!

MARSHAL. Anything you please, dear major! Whatever you please! Only
take away the pistols!

FERDINAND. How he stands there, poor trembling wretch! There he stands,
a blot on the sixth day of creation. He looks as if he were a piratical
counterfeit of the Almighty original. Pity, eternal pity! that an atom
of brains should lie wasting in so barren a skull! That single atom
bestowed upon a baboon might have made him a perfect man, whereas it is
now a mere useless fragment. And that she should share her heart with a
thing like this! Monstrous! Incredible! A wretch more formed to wean
from sin than to excite it!

MARSHAL. Praised be Heaven! he is getting witty.

FERDINAND. I will let him live! That toleration which spares the
caterpillar shall be extended to him! Men shall look on him in wonder,
and, shrugging their shoulders, admire the wise dispensation of
Providence, which can feed its creatures with husks and scourings; which
spreads the table for the raven on the gallows, and for the courtier in
the slime of majesty. We wonder at the wisdom of Providence, which even
in the world of spirits maintains its staff of venomous reptiles for the
dissemination of poison. (Relapsing into rage. ) But such vermin shall
not pollute my rose; sooner will I crush it to atoms (seizing the MARSHAL
and shaking him roughly), thus--and thus--and thus----

MARSHAL. Oh! God, that I were away from here! hundreds of miles away in
the asylum for maniacs at Paris! Anywhere but near this man!

FERDINAND. Villain! If she be no longer pure! Villain! If thou hast
profaned where I worshipped! (with increased fury). If thou hast
polluted, where I believed myself the god! (Pausing suddenly; then in a
solemn terrible voice. ) It were better for thee, villain, to flee to
hell, than to encounter my wrath in heaven! Confess! To what extent has
your unhallowed love proceeded?

MARSHAL. Let me go! I will confess everything.

FERDINAND. Oh! it must be more rapturous even to be her licentious
paramour than to burn with the purest flame for any other! Would she
surrender her charms to unlicensed pleasure she might dissolve the soul
itself to sin, and make voluptuousness pass for virtue (pressing his
pistol against the MARSHAL'S breast). To what extremities have you
proceeded? Confess this instant or I fire!

MARSHAL. There is nothing at all in it, I assure you! There is not a
syllable of truth in the whole business! Have but a moment's patience!
You are deceived, indeed you are!

FERDINAND (furiously). And dare you remind me of that, villain? To what
extremities have you proceeded? Confess, or you are a dead man!

MARSHAL. Mon Dieu! My God! You mistake my words! Only listen for a
moment. When a father----

FERDINAND (still more enraged). No doubt! He threw his daughter into
your arms? And how far have you proceeded? Confess, or I will murder
you!

MARSHAL. You rave! You will not listen! I never saw her! I don't know
her! I know nothing at all about her!

FERDINAND (drawing back). You never saw her? You don't know her? Know
nothing at all about her? Louisa is lost to me forever on thy account,
and yet in one breath hast thou denied her thrice. Go, wretch, go (he
gives him a blow with the pistol, and thrusts him out of the chamber);
powder were thrown away on such a miscreant.

[Exit MARSHAL.



SCENE IV.

FERDINAND (after a long silence, during which his countenance declares
him to be agitated by some dreadful idea). Forever lost? Yes, false
unfortunate, both are lost! Ay, by the Almighty God! if I am lost, thou
art so too. Judge of the world, ask her not from me! She is mine. For
her sake I renounced the whole world--abandoned all thy glorious
creation. Leave me the maid, great Judge of the world! Millions of
souls pour out their plaints to thee--turn on them thine eye of
compassion, but leave me, Almighty Judge--leave me to myself. (Clasping
his hands in agony. ) Can the bountiful, the munificent Creator be
covetous of one miserable soul, and that soul the worst of his creation?
The maiden is mine! Once I was her god, but now I am her devil!

(Fixes his eyes with terrible expression. )

An eternity passed with her upon the rack of everlasting perdition! Her
melting eye-balls riveted on mine! Our blazing locks entwined together!
Our shrieks of agony dissolving into one! And then to renew to her my
vows of love, and chant unceasingly her broken oaths! God! God! The
union is dreadful--and eternal! (As he is about to rush off, the
PRESIDENT meets him. )



SCENE V.

FERDINAND, the PRESIDENT.

FERDINAND (starting back). Ha! my father.

PRESIDENT. I am glad to meet with you, Ferdinand! I come to bring you
some pleasant news--something that will certainly surprise you, my dear
son. Shall we be seated?

FERDINAND (after gazing upon him for some time with a vacant stare). My
father! (Going to him with emotion, and grasping his hand. ) My father!
(Kissing it, and falling at his feet. ) Oh, father!

PRESIDENT. What is the matter? Rise, my son. Your hand burns and
trembles!

FERDINAND (wildly). Forgive my ingratitude, father! I am a lost man! I
have misinterpreted your kindness! Your meaning was so truly--truly
paternal! Oh! you had a prophetic soul! Now it is too late! Pardon!
pardon! Your blessing, my dear father!

PRESIDENT (feigning astonishment). Arise, my son! Recollect that your
words to me are riddles!

FERDINAND. This Louisa, dear father! Oh! You understand mankind! Your
anger was so just, so noble, so truly the zeal of a father! had not its
very earnestness led you to mistake the way. This Louisa!

PRESIDENT. Spare me, dear boy! Curses on my severity! come to entreat
your forgiveness----

FERDINAND. Forgiveness from me! Curse me rather. Your disapproval was
wisdom! Your severity was heavenly mercy! This Louisa, father----

PRESIDENT. Is a noble, a lovely girl! I recall my too rash suspicions!
She has won my entire esteem!

FERDINAND (starting up). What? You, too? Father, even you?
And is she
not, father, the very personification of innocence? And is it not so
natural to love this maiden?

PRESIDENT. Say, rather, 'twere a crime not to love her.

FERDINAND. Incredible! wonderful! And you, too, who can so thoroughly
see through the heart! And you, who saw her faults with the eyes of
hatred! Oh, unexampled hypocrisy! This Louisa, father!

PRESIDENT. Is worthy to be my daughter! Her virtues supply the want of
ancestry, her beauty the want of fortune. My prudential maxims yield to
the force of your attachment. Louisa shall be yours!

FERDINAND. Naught but this wanting! Father, farewell! (Rushes out of
the apartment. )

PRESIDENT (following him). Stay, my son, stay! Whither do you fly?



SCENE VI. --A magnificent Saloon in LADY MILFORD'S House.

Enter LADY MILFORD and SOPHIA.

LADY MILFORD. You have seen her then? Will she come?

SOPHIA. Yes, in a moment! She was in dishabille, and only requested
time to change her dress.

LADY MILFORD. Speak not of her. Silence! I tremble like a criminal at
the prospect of beholding that fortunate woman whose heart sympathizes
thus cruelly with my own. And how did she receive my invitation?

SOPHIA. She seemed surprised, became thoughtful, fixed her eyes on me
steadfastly, and for a while remained silent. I was already prepared for
her excuses, when she returned me this answer with a look that quite
astonished me; "Tell your mistress that she commands what I myself
intended to request to-morrow. "

LADY MILFORD. Leave me, Sophia! Pity me! I must blush if she is but an
ordinary woman--despair if she is more!

SOPHIA. But, my lady! it is not in this spirit that a rival should be
received! Remember who you are! Summon to your aid your birth, your
rank, your power! A prouder soul should heighten the gorgeous splendor
of your appearance.

LADY MILFORD (in a fit of absence). What is the simpleton babbling
about?

SOPHIA (maliciously). Or, is it, perhaps, by chance that to-day, in
particular, you are adorned with your most costly brilliants? by chance
that you are to-day arrayed in your most sumptuous robes? that your
antechamber is crowded with guards and pages; and that the tradesman's
daughter is to be received in the most stately apartment of the palace?

LADY MILFORD (angry and nettled). This is outrageous! Insupportable!
Oh that woman should have such argus-eyes for woman's weakness! How low,
how irretrievably low must I have fallen when such a creature has power
to fathom me!

LADY MILFORD, SOPHIA, a SERVANT.

SERVANT (entering). Ma'mselle Miller waits.

LADY MILFORD (to SOPHIA). Hence with you! Leave the room instantly!
(Imperiously, as the latter hesitates. ) Must I repeat my orders?
(SOPHIA retires--LADY MILFORD takes a few turns hastily. ) So; 'tis well
that I have been excited! I am in the fitter mood for this meeting. (To
the SERVANT. ) Let her approach.

[Exit SERVANT. LADY MILFORD throws herself upon the sofa,
and assumes a negligent but studied attitude.



SCENE VII.

LADY MILFORD, LOUISA.

LOUISA enters timidly, and remains standing at a great distance
from LADY MILFORD, who has turned her back towards her, and for
some time watches her attentively in the opposite looking-glass.
After a pause-----

LOUISA. Noble lady, I await your commands.

LADY MILFORD (turning towards LOUISA, and making a slight and distant
motion with her head. ) Oh! Are you there? I presume the young lady--a
certain----. Pray what is your name?

LOUISA (somewhat sensitively). My father's name is Miller. Your
ladyship expressed a wish to see his daughter.

LADY MILFORD. True, true! I remember. The poor musician's daughter, of
whom we were speaking the other day. (Aside, after a pause. ) Very
interesting, but no beauty! (To LOUISA. ) Come nearer, my child. (Again
aside. ) Eyes well practised in weeping. Oh! How I love those eyes!
(Aloud. ) Nearer--come nearer! Quite close! I really think, my good
child, that you are afraid of me!

LOUISA (with firmness and dignity). No, my lady--I despise the opinion
of the multitude!

LADY MILFORD (aside). Well, to be sure! She has learnt this boldness
from him. (To LOUISA. ) You have been recommended to me, miss! I am
told that you have been decently educated, and are well disposed. I can
readily believe it; besides, I would not, for the world, doubt the word
of so warm an advocate.

LOUISA. And yet I remember no one, my lady, who would be at the trouble
to seek your ladyship's patronage for me!

LADY MILFORD (significantly). Does that imply my unworthiness, or your
humility?

LOUISA. Your words are beyond my comprehension, lady.

LADY MILFORD. More cunning than I should have expected from that open
countenance. (To LOUISA. ) Your name is Louisa, I believe? May I
inquire your age?

LOUISA. Sixteen, just turned.

LADY MILFORD (starting up). Ha! There it is! Sixteen! The first
pulsation of love! The first sweet vibration upon the yet unsounded
harp! Nothing is more fascinating. (To LOUISA. ) Be seated, lovely
girl--I am anxious about you. (To herself. ) And he, too, loves for the
first time! What wonder, if the ruddy morning beams should meet and
blend? (To LOUISA, taking her hand affectionately. ) 'Tis settled: I
will make your fortune. (To herself. ) Oh! there is nothing in it:
nothing, but the sweet transient vision of youth! (To LOUISA, patting
her on the cheek. ) My Sophy is on the point of leaving me to be married:
you shall have her place. But just sixteen? Oh! it can never last.

LOUISA (kissing her hand respectfully). Receive my thanks, lady, for
your intended favors, and believe me not the less grateful though I may
decline to accept them.

LADY MILFORD (relapsing into disdain and anger). Only hear the great
lady! Girls of your station generally think themselves fortunate to
obtain such promotion. What is your dependence, my dainty one? Are
these fingers too delicate for work? --or is it your pretty baby-face that
makes you give yourself these airs?

LOUISA. My face, lady, is as little of my own choice as my station!

LADY MILFORD. Perhaps you believe that your beauty will last forever?
Poor creature! Whoever put that into your head--be he who he may--has
deceived both you and himself! The colors of those cheeks are not burnt
in with fire: what your mirror passes off upon you as solid and enduring
is but a slight tinselling, which, sooner or later, will rub off in the
hands of the purchaser. What then, will you do?

LOUISA. Pity the purchaser, lady, who bought a diamond because it
appeared to be set in gold.

LADY MILFORD (affecting not to hear her). A damsel of your age has ever
two mirrors, the real one, and her admirer. The flattering complaisance
of the latter counterbalances the rough honesty of the former. What the
one proclaims frightful pock-marks, the other declares to be dimples that
would adorn the Graces. The credulous maid believes only so much of the
former as is confirmed by the latter, and hies from one to the other till
she confounds their testimonies, and concludes by fancying them to be
both of one opinion. Why do you stare at me so?

LOUISA. Pardon me, lady! I was just then pitying those gorgeous
sparkling brilliants, which are unconscious that their possessor is so
strenuous a foe to vanity.

LADY MILFORD (reddening). No evasion, miss. Were it not that you depend
upon personal attractions, what in the world could induce you to reject a
situation, the only one where you can acquire polish of manners and
divest yourself of your plebeian prejudices?

LOUISA. And with them, I presume, my plebeian innocence!

LADY MILFORD. Preposterous objection! The most dissolute libertine
dares not to disrespect our sex, unless we ourselves encourage him by
advances. Prove what you are; make manifest your virtue and honor, and I
will guarantee your innocence from danger.

LOUISA. Of that, lady, permit me to entertain a doubt! The palaces of
certain ladies are but too often made a theatre for the most unbridled
licentiousness. Who will believe that a poor musician's daughter could
have the heroism to plunge into the midst of contagion and yet preserve
herself untainted? Who will believe that Lady Milford would perpetually
hold a scorpion to her breast, and lavish her wealth to purchase the
advantage of every moment feeling her cheeks dyed with the crimson blush
of shame? I will be frank, lady! --while I adorned you for some
assignation, could you meet my eye unabashed? Could you endure my glance
when you returned? Oh! better, far better, would it be that oceans
should roll between us--that we should inhabit different climes! Beware,
my lady! --hours of temperance, moments of satiety might intrude; the
gnawing worm of remorse might plant its sting in your bosom, and then
what a torment would it be for you to read in the countenance of your
handmaid that calm serenity with which virtue ever rewards an uncorrupted
heart! (Retiring a few steps. ) Once more, gracious lady, I entreat your
pardon!

LADY MILFORD (extremely agitated). Insupportable, that she should tell
me this!