No More Learning

_ My comfort is, I have done your business in prose already.

The wittiest men are all but women's tools;
'Tis our prerogative, to make them fools.
For one sweet look, the rich, the beaux, the braves,
And all mankind, run headlong to be slaves.
Ours is the harvest which those Indians mow;
They plough the deep, but we reap what they sow. [_Exit. _




ACT V.


SCENE I. --_Lopez's House. _

_Enter_ SANCHO, LOPEZ, DALINDA. CARLOS _meeting them_.

_Carl. _ Give you joy, Mr Bridegroom and Mrs Bride; you
see I have accepted your invitation.

_San. _ And thou art welcome, as a witness of my triumph.

_Carl. _ I could tell tales that would spoil your appetite, both to your
dinner and your bride. --You think you are married to a vast fortune.

_Dal. _ A better, perhaps, than you imagine.

_Lop. _ For, if Sancho looks into his writings, he'll find that my
estate was mortgaged to his father.

_San. _ Then would I had looked into my writings, before I had looked so
far into your daughter.

_Dal. _ My father's fortune will be yours at last; and I have but
redeemed it for you.

_San. _ I'm sure I'm married without redemption!

_Carl. _ You must take the good and the bad together; he that keeps a
tame cat must be content to be scratched a little.

_Dal. _ The count's sister, I hope, has claws for you too.

_Carl. _ That was invented only in hopes of you, Dalinda; though now I
thank my stars that I have missed you: for two wits without fortunes
would be like two millstones without corn betwixt them; they would only
grind upon one another, and make a terrible noise, but no meal would
follow.

_Enter a Nurse, leading a Boy and Girl. _

_Nurse. _ Madam, here are two poor orphans, that, hearing you are
married, come to dine with you.

_Dal. _ [_Aside. _] My two bastards! I am undone: what shall I do with
them?

_Lop. _ [_Aside. _] The devil take my damned grand-children for their
unseasonable visit.

_San. _ Welcome, welcome: They're come a mumming[60] to grace my
wedding, I'll warrant you.

_Carl. _ I begin to suspect they come to sup and lodge, as well as dine
here.

_Lop. _ [_To Nurse. _] There's two pistoles for you; take them away, and
bring them again to-morrow morning.

_Nurse. _ Thank your honour. --Come away, children; but first I must
deliver a note to this gentleman. --Don Carlos, I am sure you remember
me. [_Gives him a Note. _

_Carl. _ Did not you wait on Donna Leonora, the Conde's sister?

_Nurse. _ Have you forgotten Ynez, the faithful trustee of your
affection? Read your letter; there's better news than you deserve.

[CARLOS _reads his Letter to himself_.

_Dal. _ [_To Nurse. _] Steal away, dear nurse, while he's reading, and
there's more money for you:--fear not, you shall be duly paid; for I am
married to one who can provide for them.

_Nurse. _ [_To her. _] Well, I'll keep your credit; but remember. [_Exit
Nurse, with the Children. _

_Carl. _ [_After Reading. _] Poor loving creature, she is e'en too
constant; I could never have expected this from her. --Look you here,
you shall see I have no reason to envy your fortune, Sancho. --[_Looks
about him. _] How now, what's become of the nurse and the two children?

_Dal. _ They would have been but too troublesome guests, and are gone
away.

_Carl. _ By your favour, I shall make bold to call them back again.

[_Exit_ CARLOS.

_Dal. _ [_To_ LOP. ] Oh barbarous villain! he'll discover all.

_Lop. _ The best on't is, you're already married.

_Dal. _ But we have not consummated. I could have so wheedled Mr
Bridegroom to-night, that ere to-morrow morning he should have forgiven
me.

_Re-enter_ CARLOS, _with Nurse and Children_.

_Carl. _ Come, nurse, no more mincing matters; your lady's orders in my
letter must be obeyed: I must find a father and mother for the children
in this company.

_San. _ Whose pretty children are these, Carlos, that you are to provide
for?

_Carl. _ E'en your bride's, Sancho, at your service. -- Children, do your
duty to your mother.

_Children. _ [_Kneeling. _] Mamma, your blessing.

_San. _ Hey day, what's here to do? Are these the issue of your body,
Madam Bride?

_Carl. _ Yes; and they are now your children by the mother's side. The
late Conde presents his service to you, with these two pledges of his
affection to your wife.

_San. _ Is it even thus, Dalinda?

_Lop. _ Christian patience, son-in-law.

_San. _ Christian patience! I say pagan fury. This is enough to make me
turn Jew again, like my father of Hebrew memory.

_Carl. _ You may make your assault, colonel, without danger; the breach
is already made to your hands.

_San. _ Ay, the devil take him that stormed it first!

_Carl. _ Speak well of the dead.

_Dal. _ [_Kneeling. _] And forgive the living!

_San. _ Oh Dalinda! no more Dalinda, but Dalilah the Philistine! Could
you find none but me to practise on?

_Carl. _ Sooner upon you than upon any man; for nature has put a
superscription upon a fool's face, and all cheats are directed thither.

_Lop. _ There's no recalling what's past and done.

_San. _ You never said a truer word, father-in-law; 'tis done, indeed,
to my sorrow.

_Carl. _ If you could undo it, Sancho, it were something; but, since you
cannot, your only remedy is to do it again.

_San. _ That's true; but the memory of that damned Conde is enough to
turn one's stomach to her. Do you remember what a devilish hunch back
he had, when you and I played him?

_Carl. _ For that reason you may be sure she'll loath the thought of him.

_San. _ Do you think so, Carlos?

_Dal. _ How can I do otherwise, when I have in my arms so handsome, so
sweet, and so charming a cavalier as you?

_San. _ Well, I am--I know not howish; she has a delicious tongue of her
own, and I begin to mollify.

_Carl. _ Do, Sancho: Faith, you've held it out too long, in conscience,
for so slight a quarrel; this is nothing among great ladies, man. How
many fathers have I known, that have given their blessings to other
men's children? Come, bless them, bless them, honest daddy--Kneel down,
children.

_Children. _ [_Kneeling. _] Your blessing, papa.

[_Children cry. _

_San. _ It goes against the grain to give it them.

_Carl. _ For shame, Sancho, take them up; you'll break their pretty
hearts else: 'twould grieve a man's soul to see them weep thus.

_San. _ Ay, they learnt that trick of their mother; but I cannot be
obdurate, the fault was none of theirs, I'm sure. [_Crying. _] Heaven
e'en bless you, and I'll provide for you; nay, and it shall go hard but
I'll get you some more play-fellows, if your mother be as fruitful as
she used to be.

_Lop. _ Why this is as it should be.

_Dal. _ Heaven reward you; and I'll study obedience to you.

_San. _ They say, children are great blessings; if they are, I have two
great blessings ready gotten to my hands.

_Carl. _ For your comfort, marriage, they say, is holy.

_San. _ Ay, and so is martyrdom, as they say; but both of them are good
for just nothing, but to make an end of a man's life.

_Lop. _ Cheer up, son-in-law: your children are very towardly, you see
they can ask blessing already.

_Dal. _ If he does not like them, he may get the next himself.

_Carl. _ I will not trouble the company with reading my letter from the
dead count's sister; 'tis enough to tell you, that I loved her once,
and forsook her, because she was then no fortune. But she has been
kinder to me than I deserve; and has offered me her brother's estate in
dowry with her.

_Dal. _ Which I hope you will accept.

_Carl. _ Yes, and release you of a certain promise to me, without
explaining. --She only recommended to me her brother's children by
Dalinda: and I think I have taken a decent care in providing them a
rich father.

_San. _ I always loved a harlot, and, now I have one of my own, I'll
e'en take up with her; for my youth is going, and my days of whoring,
I mean emphatical whoring, are almost over. But for once, we'll have a
frolick; come, offspring, can either of you two dance?

_1 Child. _ Yes, forsooth, father, and my sister can sing too, like an
angel.

_San. _ Then foot it featly; that you may say hereafter you remember
when your mother was first married, and danced at her wedding.

_Carl. _ Hold a little;--you may remember too, Madam Bride, that I
promised you an epithalamium. 'Twas meant a satire; but fortune has
turned it to a jest. I have given it to the musicians, and brought them
along with me; strike up, gentlemen.

[_The Dance is first, then the Song, the last Words of which are
sung while the Company is going out, and the Musick plays before
them. _


SONG.

BY MR CONGREVE.

I.

_How happy's the husband, whose wife has been tried!
Not damned to the bed of an ignorant bride!
Secure of what's left, he ne'er misses the rest,
But where there's enough, supposes a feast;
So, foreknowing the cheat,
He escapes the deceit,
And, in spite of the curse, resolves to be blest. _

II.

_If children are blessings, his comfort's the more,
Whose spouse has been known to be fruitful before;
And the boy that she brings ready made to his hand,
May stand him instead, for an heir to his land,
Should his own prove a sot,
When he's lawfully got,
As whene'er 'tis so, if he don't I'll be hanged. _


SONG

FOR A GIRL.

I.

_Young I am, and yet unskilled
How to make a lover yield:
How to keep, or how to gain,
When to love, and when to feign. _

II.

_Take me, take me, some of you,
While I yet am young and true;
Ere I can my soul disguise,
Heave my breasts, and roll my eyes. _

III.

_Stay not till I learn the way,
How to lie, and to betray:
He that has me first is blest,
For I may deceive the rest. _

IV.

_Could I find a blooming youth,
Full of love, and full of truth,
Brisk, and of a jaunty mien,
I should long to be fifteen. _ [Exeunt.

_A Royal Chamber is discovered by drawing the former Scene_;
VERAMOND, GARCIA, XIMENA, VICTORIA CELIDEA, _with a full Train of
Courtiers and Guards: amongst the Crowd_, RAMIREZ _disguised with
some of his Party_.

_Vera. _ [_To_ VICT. ] No more delays, but go.

_Xim. _ This is inhuman,
To press her to a marriage made by force.
At least allow yourself and her this day,
That each of you may think, and one may change.

_Vera. _ You mean, the times or accidents may change,
And leave her for Alphonso.

_Xim. _ Your enemies are but without your gates,
And soon they may return: Forbear for fear.

_Vera. _ The sooner then
I must prevent the effect of their return.
What now remains, but to complete my vows,
And sacrifice to vengeance!

_Xim. _ Your own daughter!

_Vera. _ Even her, myself, and all the world together.

_Vict. _ Can you refuse me one poor day to live?

_Vera. _ Obey me, and be blest; if not, accurst.
A father's curse has wings, remember that;
Through this world and the next it will pursue thee,
And sink thee down for ever.

_Vict. _ 'Tis enough,
I know how far a daughter owes obedience;
But duty has a bound like other empires:
It reaches but to life, for all beyond it
Is the dominion of another world,
Where you have no command. --
For you, Don Garcia,
You know the power a mistress ought to have;
But, since you will be master, take your hour,
The next is mine.

_Gar. _ I grant the debt of service which I owe you;
But 'tis a sum too vast to pay at sight.
If now you call it in, I must be bankrupt
To all my future bliss.

_Vict. _ I find by you,
The laws of love are like the laws of heaven;
All know, but few will keep them. --To the temple,
Where I myself am victim.

_Enter_ ALPHONSO, _unarmed; all seem amazed_.

_ Alph. _ Stay, Veramond.

_Vera. _ Alphonso here! then all my hopes are blasted;
The town is his, and I once more a slave. [_Aside. _

_Alph. _ Dismiss thy fears, and tremble not, old man;
I neither come with purpose, nor with power,
To avenge my wrongs, but single, and unarmed.
This head is necessary to thy peace,
And to Victoria's violated vows,
Who, while I live, can never be Don Garcia's.
Take then this odious life; securely take it,
And glut thy vengeance with Alphonso's blood.
Behold the man, who forced thee in thy strength,
In thy imperial town made thee a captive.
Now give thy fury scope; revenge the affront,
And show more pity not to spare my life,
Than I, in sparing thine.

_Xim. _ [_To_ CEL. ] Oh boundless courage, or extreme despair!

_Cel. _ [_To her. _] I tremble for the event; see, the king reddens.
The fear which seized him at Alphonso's sight,
And left his face forsaken of his blood,
Is vanished now;
And a new tide returns upon his cheeks,
And rage and vengeance sparkle in his eyes.

_Vera. _ [_Aside. _] All things are hushed; no noise is in the streets,
Nor shouts of soldiers, nor the cries of matrons,
To speak a town in plunder. --Then I take
A traitor's counsel once, and thou shalt die. [_To_ _Alph. _
Condemned by thy own sentence, go to death;
Nor shall thy seeming generosity,
And feigned assurance, save thee: 'tis despair,
To see thy frustrate hopes, that brought thee hither,
To meet my just revenge.

_Alph. _ Yes, I will die, because I chuse to die;
Which had I not desired, I had not come
Unarmed, unguarded, and alone, to tempt
Thy known ingratitude, and barbarous hate.
Boast not the advantage which thou hold'st of me,
But know thyself for what thou art,--no more
Than the mean minister of my despair.

_Vera. _ Whether to heaven's justice, or thy choice,
I owe this happy hour of sweet revenge,
I'll not be wanting to the wished occasion.

_Vict. _ You shall not die alone, my dear Alphonso,
Though much I blame this desperate enterprize.
You should have staid, to see
The event of what I promised to perform;
For, had I been so base to be another's,
That baseness might have cured your ill-placed love.
But this untimely rashness makes you guilty,
Both of your fate, and mine.

_Alph. _ While I believed
My life was precious to my dear Victoria,
I valued and preserved it for her sake:
But when you broke from your deliverer's arms.
To put yourself into a tyrant's power,
I threw a worthless, wretched being from me.
Abandoned first by you.

_Vict. _ Oh cruel man!
Where, at what moment did that change begin,
With which you tax my violated vows?
I left your lawless power, to put myself
Into a father's chains, my lawful tyrant.
If this be my upbraided crime, even this,
On that occasion, would I do once more:
But could I, with my honour, safe have staid
In your dear arms, bear witness, heaven and earth,
Nor threats, nor force, nor promises, nor fears,
Should take me from your love.

_Alph. _ Oh, I believe you. --
Vanish my fears, and causeless jealousies!
Live, my Victoria, for yourself, not me,
But let the unfortunate Alphonso die;
My death will glut your cruel father's rage.
When I am gone, and his revenge complete,
Pity, perhaps, may seize a parent's mind,
To free you from a hated lover's arms.

_Cel. _ [_To_ XIM. ] Speak, mother, speak; my father gives you time;
He stands amazed, irresolute, and dumb,
Like the still face of heaven before a storm;--
Speak and arrest the thunder, ere it rolls.

_Xim. _ I stand suspected; but you, Celidea,
The favourite of his heart, his darling child,
May speak, and ought: your interest is concerned;
For, if Alphonso die, your hopes are lost.
I see your father's soul, like glowing steel,
Is on the anvil; strike, while yet he's hot:
Turn him, and ply him; set him strait betimes,
Lest he for ever warp.

_Cel. _ I fear, and yet would speak; but will he hear me?

_Xim. _ For what is all this silence, but to hear?
Bring him but to calm reasoning, and he's gained.

_Cel. _ Then heaven inspire my tongue! ----
Sir, royal sir! ----
He hears me not; he lifts not up his eyes,
But, fixed upon the pavement, looks the way
That points to death. -- [_She pulls him. _
Oh hear me, hear me, father!
Have you forgot that dear indulgent name,
Never before in vain pronounced by me?

_Vera. _ Ha! who disturbs my thoughts?

_Cel. _ [_Kneeling. _] 'Tis Celidea. --
Alas, I would relieve you, if I durst:
If ever I offended, even in thought,
Or made not your commands
The bounds of all my wishes and desires,
Bid me be dumb, or else permit me speech.

_Vera. _ Oh rise, my only unoffending child,
Who reconciles me to the name of father!
Speak then;--but not for her, and less for him.

_Cel. _ Perhaps I would accuse them, not defend;
For both are guilty, dipt in equal crimes,
And are obnoxious to your justice both.

_Vera. _ True, Celidea; thou confirm'st my sentence.
'Tis just Alphonso die.

_Xim. _ Forgive her, heaven! she aggravates their faults,
And pushes their destruction. [_Aside. _

_Cel. _ Speak, Alphonso:
Can you deny, when royal Veramond,
Then thought your father, and by you so deemed,
When he required your captive, old Ramirez,
And ordered his confinement; did you well
Then to controul the pleasure of that king,
Under whose just commands you fought and conquered?

_Alph. _ I did not well; but heat of boiling youth,
And ill weighed honour, made me disobey.

_Vera. _ That cause is gained; for he confesses guilt. --
Proceed, most equitable judge, proceed.

_Cel. _ [_To_ ALPH. ] Next, I reproach you with a worse rebellion:
The king's first promise, to Don Garcia made,
You dared to oppose; forbade his fair addresses;
Then made a ruffian quarrel with that prince;
And, last, were guilty of incestuous love.
I will not load my sister with consent;
But, in strict virtue, listening to a crime,
And not rejecting, is itself a crime.

_Vict. _ Is this a sister's office? peace, for shame!
We loved without transgressing virtue's bounds;
We fixed the limits of our tenderest thoughts;
Came to the verge of honour, and there stopt:
We warmed us by the fire, but were not scorched.
If this be sin, angels might love with less,
And mingle rays of minds less pure than ours.
Our souls enjoyed; but to their holy feasts,
Bodies, on both sides, were forbidden guests.

_Cel. _ Now help me, father, or our cause is lost;
For much I fear their love was innocent.

_Vera. _ With my own troops Alphonso seized my person,
In my own town, to my perpetual shame.
Pass on to that, and strike the traitor dead.

_Cel. _ Yes, proud Alphonso, you were banish'd hence;
Your father was confined, and doomed to death;
The beauty you adored was made another's.
How durst you, then, attempt to avenge your wrongs,
And force your mistress from your rival's arms,
Rather than die contented, as you ought?

_Alph. _ Even for those very reasons you allege.

_Xim. _ At last I find her drift. [_Aside. _

_Vera. _ Thou justifiest, and not accusest him.

_Cel. _ Patience, good father, and hear out the rest. [_To_ ALPH.
Thought you, because you bravely fought and conquered
For royal Veramond, nay, saved his life,
And set him free when you had conquered him,
Only because he was Victoria's father;
Thought you for such slight services as these,
That he should spare you now? O generous madman,
To give your head to one, who ne'er forgave.

_Vera. _ Oh, she stings me. [_Aside. _

_Cel. _ And you, Don Garcia, witness to this truth:
You were his hated rival, fairly vanquished,
And yet he spared your life.

_Gar. _ At your request:
I owe it to you both.

_Cel. _ That he dismissed my sister, 'twas her fault;
I charge it not on him, but 'twas his folly:
A capital fool he was, in that last error,
For which he justly stands condemned to death.
Your sentence, royal sir?

_Vera. _ That he should live;
Should live triumphant over Veramond,
And should live happy in Victoria's love. --
Oh, I have held as long as nature could;
Convinced in reason, obstinate in will:
I saw the pleader's aim, found her design,
I longed to be o'ercome, and yet resisted. --
What have I done against thee, my Alphonso?
And what hast thou not done for Veramond?

_Xim. _ Oh fortunate event!

_Vict. _ Oh happy day!

_Alph. _ Oh unexpected bliss, and therefore double!

_Vera. _ [_To_ ALPH. ] Can you forgive me? yes, I know Alphonso can
forgive Victoria's father.
But yet, in pity, pardon not too soon;
Punish my pride a while,
And make me linger for so great a good,
Lest ecstasy of joy prevent this blessing,
And you, instead of pardon, give me death.

[_He offers to kneel to_ ALPHONSO: ALPHONSO _takes him up, and
kneels himself_.

_Alph. _ Oh, let me raise my father from the ground!

_Vera. _ [_Rising. _] 'Tis your peculiar virtue, my Alphonso,
Always to raise me up.

_Alph.