No More Learning

_Isa_. Well, what say you, if I put you to-night into the arms of
Loveby?

_Const_. My condition's desperate, and past thy physic.

_Isa_. When physic's past, what remains but to send for the
divine? here's little Nicodemus, your father's chaplain: I have spoke
with him already; for a brace of angels he shall make all sure betwixt
you without a license; aye, and prove ten at night a more canonical
hour than ten i'the morning.

_Const_. I see not which way thou can'st perform it; but if thou
do'st, I have many admirations in store for thee. [_Whispers_.

_Isa_. Step in, and get a cushion underneath your apron.

_Const_. O, I must be with child, it seems!

_Isa_. And Loveby shall bring you to bed to-night, if the devil
be not in the dice: away, make haste;--[_Exit_ CONSTANCE. ]
Setstone, be not you far off: I shall have need of you too: I hear my
uncle coming--Methinks I long to be revenged of this wicked
elder, for hindering of my marriage to-day: Hark you, Setstone--
[_Whispers;_

_Set_. Tis impossible, madam; 'twill never take.

_Isa_. I warrant you; do not I know him? he has not brains
enough, if they were buttered, to feed a blackbird--Nay, no
replies--out of what I have said, you may instruct my cousin too.

[_Exit_ SETSTONE.

_Enter_ NONSUCH.

_Isa_. Oh, are you there, sir? Faith, it was kindly done of you
to hinder me of a good husband this afternoon: And but for one thing,
I would resolve to leave your house.

_Non_. I'm glad there's any thing will stay thee.

_Isa_. If I stay, 'tis for love of my cousin Constance, not of
you: I should be loth to leave her in this sad condition.

_Non_. What condition?

_Isa_. Nay, I know not; she has not worn her busk this fortnight.
I think she's grown fat o'the sudden.

_Non_. O devil, devil! what a fright I'm in!

_Isa_. She has qualms too every morning: ravens mightily for
green fruit; and swoons at the sight of hot meat.

_Non_. She's with child: I am undone! I am undone!

_Isa_. I understand nothing of such matters: She's but in the
next room; best call her, and examine her about it.

_Non_. Why Constance, Constance!

_Enter_ CONSTANCE, _as with child_.

_Isa_. Now for a broad-side; turn your prow to him, cousin.

[_To her_.

_Non_. Now, gentlewoman! is this possible?

_Const_. I do not reach your meaning, sir.

_Non_. Where have you been of late?

_Const_. I seldom stir without you, sir: These walls most
commonly confine me.

_Non_. These walls can get no children; nor these hangings;
though there be men wrought in 'em.

_Isa_. Yet, by your favour, nuncle, children may be wrought
behind the hangings.

_Non_. O Constance, Constance! How have my grey hairs deserved
this of thee? Who got that belly there?

_Const_. You, I hope, sir.

_Non_. Tell me the truth, for I will know it; come, the story.

_Const_. The story's quickly told, sir; I am with child.

_Non_. And who is the father?

_Const_. I do not know, sir.

_Non_. Not know! went there so many to't?

_Const_. So far from that, that there were none at all, to my
best knowledge, sir.

_Non_. Was't got by miracle? Who was the father?

_Const_. Who got your money, sir, that you have lost?

_Non_. Nay, Heaven knows who got that.

_Const_. And, Heaven knows who got this: for, on my conscience,
he, that had your money, was the father on't.

_Non_. The devil it was as soon.

_Const_. That's all I fear, sir.

_Isa_. 'Tis strange;--and yet 'twere hard, sir, to suspect my
cousin's virtue, since we know the house is haunted.

_Non_. 'Tis true, that nothing can be laid, though under lock and
key, but it miscarries.

_Isa_. 'Tis not to be believed, what these villainous spirits can
do: they go invisible.

_Const_. First, they stole away my prayer-book; and, a little
after that, a small treatise I had against temptation; and when they
were gone, you know, sir--

_Isa_. If there be such doings, pray heaven we are not all with
child. 'Tis certain, that none live within these walls, but they have
power of: I have reared Toby, the coachman, any time this fortnight.

_Non_. Out, impudence! A man with child! why 'tis unnatural.

_Isa_. Ay, so is he that got it.

_Non_. Thou art not in earnest?

_Isa_. I would I were not:--Hark! I hear him groan hither. Come
in, poor Toby.

_Enter_ TOBY, _the coachman, with an urinal_.

_Non_. How now! what have you there, sirrah?

_Tob_. An't please your worship, 'tis my water. I had a spice
o'the new disease here i'the house; and so carried it to master
doctor.

_Non_. Well; and what did he say to you?

_Tob_. He told me very sad news, an' please you: I am somewhat
bashful to speak on't.

_Isa_. Out with it, man.

_Tob_. Why, truly, he told me, the party that owned the water was
with child.

_Isa_. I told you so, uncle.

_Non_. To my best remembrance, I never heard of such a thing
before.

_Tob_. I never stretch out myself to snap my whip, but it goes to
the heart of me.

_Isa_. Alas, poor Toby!

_Non_. Begone, and put off your livery, sirrah! --You shall not
stay a minute in my service.

_Tob_. I beseech your good worship, be good to me; 'twas the
first fault I ever committed in this kind. I have three poor children
by my wife; and if you leave me to the wide world, with a new charge
upon myself--

_Non_. Begone! I will not hear a word.

_Tob_. If I must go, I'll not go alone: Ambrose Tinis, the cook,
is as bad as I am.

_Non_. I think you'll make me mad. Call the rascal hither! I
must account with him on another score, now I think on't.

_Enter_ AMBROSE TINIS.

_Non_. Sirrah, what made you send a pheasant with one wing to the
table yesterday?

_Amb_. I beseech your worship to pardon me; I longed for't.

_Isa_. I feared as much.

_Amb_. And I beseech your worship let me have a boy, to help me
in the kitchen; for I find myself unable to go through with the work.
Besides, the doctor has warned me of stooping to the fire, for fear of
a mischance.

_Non_. Why, are you with child, sirrah?

_Amb_. So he tells me; but, if I were put to my oath, I know not
that ever I deserved for't.

_Non_. Still worse and worse. And here comes Setstone groaning.

_Enter_ SETSTONE.

_Set_. O, sir! I have been so troubled with swooning fits; and
have so longed for cherries!

_Non_. He's poopt too.

_Isa_. Well, this is not the worst yet: I suspect something more
than I will speak of.

_Non_. What dost thou suspect, ha!

_Isa_. Is not your lordship with child, too?

_Non_. Who, I with child! marry, heaven forbid! What dost thou
see by me, to ground it on?

_Isa_. You're very round of late;--that's all, sir.

_Non_. Round! that's only fat, I hope. I have had a very good
stomach of late, I'm sure.

_Isa_. Alas, and well you may;--You eat for two, sir.

_Non_. Setstone, look upon me, and tell me true: Do you observe
any alteration in me?

_Set_. I would not dishearten your ladyship--your lordship, I
would say--but I have observed, of late, your colour goes and comes
extremely.
Methinks your lordship looks very sharp, and bleak i'the
face, and mighty puffed i'the body.

_Non_. O, the devil! Wretched men, that we are all! Nothing
grieves me, but that, in my old age, when others are past
child-bearing, I should come to be a disgrace to my family.

_Const_. How do you, sir? Your eyes look wondrous dim. Is not
there a mist before 'em?

_Isa_. Do you not feel a kicking in your belly--When do you look,
uncle?

_Non_. Uh, uh! --Methinks, I am very sick o'the sudden.

_Isa_. What store of old shirts have you against the good time?
Shall I give you a shift, uncle?

_Non_. Here's like to be a fine charge towards! We shall all be
brought to-bed together! Well, if I be with devil, I will have such
gossips: an usurer, and a scrivener, shall be godfathers.

_Isa_. I'll help you, uncle; and Sawney's two grannies shall be
godmothers. The child shall be christened by the directory; and the
gossips' gifts shall be the gude Scotch kivenant.

_Const. Set. Non. Tob. Amb_. Uh! uh! uh!

_Isa_. What rare music's here!

_Non_. Whene'er it comes from me, 'twill kill me; that's certain.

_Set_. Best take a vomit.

_Isa_. An't come upward, the horns will choke him.

_Non_. Mass! and so they will.

_Isa_. Your only way, is to make sure o'the man-midwife.

_Non_. But my child's dishonour troubles me the most. If I could
but see her well married, before I underwent the labour and peril of
child-bearing! --What would you advise, niece?

_Isa_. That which I am very loth to do. Send for honest Jack
Loveby, and let him know the truth on't: He's a fellow without a
fortune, and will be glad to leap at the occasion.

_Non_. But why Loveby, of all the world? 'Tis but staying 'till
to-morrow, and then Sir Timorous will marry her.

_Const_. Uh! --I swell so fast, I cannot hide it 'till to-morrow.

_Isa_. Why, there's it now!

_Non_. I'll send for the old alderman, Getwell, immediately:
He'll father the devil's bastard, I warrant you.

_Isa_. Fie, uncle! my cousin's somewhat too good yet for an
alderman. If it were her third child, she might hearken to you.

_Non_. Well, since it must be so, Setstone, go you to Loveby;
make my excuse to him for the arrest, and let him know, what fortune
may attend him.

_Isa_. Mr Setstone, pray acquaint him with my cousin's affection
to him; and prepare him to father the cushion underneath her
petticoat.

[_Aside to_ SETSTONE. _Exit_. ]

_Set_. I'll bring him immediately.

_Isa_. When he comes, uncle, pray cover your great belly with
your hat, that he may not see it.

_Non_. It goes against my heart to marry her to this Loveby; but,
what must be, must be.

_Enter_ LOVEBY.

_Const_. O, Mr Loveby! The welcomest man alive! You met Setstone,
I hope, that you came so opportunely?

_Lov_. No, faith, madam; I came of my own accord.

_Isa_. 'Tis unlucky; he's not prepared.

_Lov_. Look you, madam, I have brought the hundred pounds; the
devil was as punctual as three o' clock at a playhouse. Here; 'tis
right, I warrant it, without telling: I took it upon his word.

[_Gives it_.

_Const_. Your kindness shall be requited, servant: But I sent for
you upon another business. Pray, cousin, tell it him, for I am ashamed
to do't.

_Lov_. Ha! 'tis not that great belly, I hope. Is't come to that?

_Isa_. Hark you, Mr Loveby; a word with you.

_Lov_. A word with you, madam: Whither is your cousin bound?

_Isa_. Bound, sir?

_Lov_. Ay, bound: Look you, she's under sail, with a lusty
fore-wind.

_Non_. I sent for you, sir; but, to be plain with you, 'twas more
out of necessity than love.

_Lov_. I wonder, my lord, at your invincible ill-nature. You
forget the arrest, that I passed by: But this it is to be civil to
unthankful persons; 'tis feeding an ill-natured dog, that snarls while
he takes victuals from your hand.

_Non_. All friends! all friends! No ripping up old stories; you
shall have my daughter.

_Lov_. Faith, I see your lordship would let lodgings ready
furnished; but I am for an empty tenement.

_Non_. I had almost forgot my own great belly. If he should
discover that too! [_Claps his hat before it_.

_Isa. [To Lov_. ] You will not hear me, sir. 'Tis all roguery, as
I live.

_Lov_. Flat roguery, I'll swear! If I had been father on't, nay,
if I had but laid my breeches upon the bed, I would have married her:
But I see we are not ordained for one another.

[_Is going_.

_Non_. I beseech you, sir.

_Lov_. Pray cover, my lord.

_Isa_. He does his great belly, methinks.

_Non_. I'll make it up in money to you.

_Lov_. That cannot tempt me. I have a friend, that shall be
nameless, that will not see me want; and so, your servant.

[_Exit_ LOVEBY.

_Isa_. I'll after, and bring him back.

_Non_. You shall not stir after him;--Does he scorn my daughter?

_Isa_. Lord, how fretful you are! This breeding makes you so
peevish, uncle.

_Non_. 'Tis no matter, she shall straight be married to Sir
Timorous.

_Const_. I am ruined, cousin.

[_Aside_.

_Isa_. I warrant you. --My lord, I wish her well married to Sir
Timorous; but Loveby will certainly infect him with the news of her
great belly.

_Non_. I'll dispatch it, ere he can speak with him.

_Isa_. Whene'er he comes, he'll see what a _bona roba_ she
is grown.

_Non_. Therefore, it shall be done i'the evening.

_Isa_. It shall, my lord.

_Const_. Shall it?

[Aside.

_Isa_. Let me alone, cousin. --And to this effect she shall write
to him, that, to conform to your will, and his modesty, she desires
him to come hither alone this evening.

_Non_. Excellent wench! --I'll get my chaplain ready.

[_Exit_ NONSUCH.

_Const_. How can you hope to deceive my father?

_Isa_. If I don't, I have hard luck.

_Const_. You go so strange a way about, your bowl must be well
bias'd to come in.

_Isa_. So plain a ground, there's not the least rub in't. I'll
meet Sir Timorous in the dark; and, in your room, marry him.

_Const_. You'll be sure to provide for one.

_Isa_. You mistake me, cousin:--Oh! here's Setstone again.

_Enter_ SETSTONE.

Mr Jeweller, you must again into your devil's shape, and speak with
Loveby. But pray be careful not to be discovered.

_Set_. I warrant you, madam. I have cozened wiser men than he in
my own shape; and, if I cannot continue it in a worse, let the devil,
I make bold with, e'en make as bold with me.

_Isa_. You must guide him, by back ways, to my uncle's house, and
so to my cousin's chamber, that he may not know where he is when he
comes there. The rest I'll tell you as we go along.

[_Exeunt_.


SCENE III.

_Enter_ TIMOROUS; _after him_ BURR _and_ FAILER.


_Tim_.