No More Learning

LYDIA
Madam, I thought you once----

Mrs. MALAPROP
You thought, miss! I don't know any business you have to think at
all--thought does not become a young woman. But the point we would
request of you is, that you will promise to forget this fellow--to
illiterate him, I say, quite from your memory.

LYDIA
Ah, madam! our memories are independent of our wills. It is not so easy
to forget.

Mrs. MALAPROP
But I say it is, miss; there is nothing on earth so easy as to forget,
if a person chooses to set about it. I'm sure I have as much forgot
your poor dear uncle as if he had never existed--and I thought it my
duty so to do; and let me tell you, Lydia, these violent memories don't
become a young woman.

Sir ANTHONY
Why sure she won't pretend to remember what she's ordered not! --ay,
this comes of her reading!

LYDIA
What crime, madam, have I committed, to be treated thus?

Mrs. MALAPROP
Now don't attempt to extirpate yourself from the matter; you know I
have proof controvertible of it. --But tell me, will you promise to do
as you're bid? Will you take a husband of your friends' choosing?

LYDIA
Madam, I must tell you plainly, that had I no preferment for any one
else, the choice you have made would be my aversion.

Mrs. MALAPROP
What business have you, miss, with preference and aversion? They don't
become a young woman; and you ought to know, that as both always wear
off, 'tis safest in matrimony to begin with a little aversion. I am
sure I hated your poor dear uncle before marriage as if he'd been a
blackamoor--and yet, miss, you are sensible what a wife I made! --and
when it pleased Heaven to release me from him, 'tis unknown what tears
I shed! --But suppose we were going to give you another choice, will you
promise us to give up this Beverley?

LYDIA
Could I belie my thoughts so far as to give that promise, my actions
would certainly as far belie my words.

Mrs. MALAPROP
Take yourself to your room. --You are fit company for nothing but your
own ill-humours.

LYDIA
Willingly, ma'am--I cannot change for the worse. [Exit. ]

Mrs. MALAPROP
There's a little intricate hussy for you!

Sir ANTHONY
It is not to be wondered at, ma'am,--all this is the natural
consequence of teaching girls to read. Had I a thousand daughters, by
Heaven! I'd as soon have them taught the black art as their alphabet!

Mrs. MALAPROP
Nay, nay, Sir Anthony, you are an absolute misanthropy.

Sir ANTHONY
In my way hither, Mrs. Malaprop, I observed your niece's maid coming
forth from a circulating library! --She had a book in each hand--they
were half-bound volumes, with marble covers! --From that moment I
guessed how full of duty I should see her mistress!

Mrs. MALAPROP
Those are vile places, indeed!

Sir ANTHONY
Madam, a circulating library in a town is as an evergreen tree of
diabolical knowledge! It blossoms through the year! --And depend on it,
Mrs. Malaprop, that they who are so fond of handling the leaves, will
long for the fruit at last.

Mrs. MALAPROP
Fy, fy, Sir Anthony! you surely speak laconically.

Sir ANTHONY
Why, Mrs. Malaprop, in moderation now, what would you have a woman
know?

Mrs. MALAPROP
Observe me, Sir Anthony. I would by no means wish a daughter of mine to
be a progeny of learning; I don't think so much learning becomes a
young woman; for instance, I would never let her meddle with Greek, or
Hebrew, or algebra, or simony, or fluxions, or paradoxes, or such
inflammatory branches of learning--neither would it be necessary for
her to handle any of your mathematical, astronomical, diabolical
instruments. --But, Sir Anthony, I would send her, at nine years old, to
a boarding-school, in order to learn a little ingenuity and artifice.
Then, sir, she should have a supercilious knowledge in accounts;--and
as she grew up, I would have her instructed in geometry, that she might
know something of the contagious countries;--but above all, Sir
Anthony, she should be mistress of orthodoxy, that she might not
mis-spell, and mis-pronounce words so shamefully as girls usually do;
and likewise that she might reprehend the true meaning of what she is
saying. This, Sir Anthony, is what I would have a woman know;--and I
don't think there is a superstitious article in it.

Sir ANTHONY
Well, well, Mrs. Malaprop, I will dispute the point no further with
you; though I must confess, that you are a truly moderate and polite
arguer, for almost every third word you say is on my side of the
question. But, Mrs. Malaprop, to the more important point in
debate--you say you have no objection to my proposal?

Mrs. MALAPROP
None, I assure you. I am under no positive engagement with Mr. Acres,
and as Lydia is so obstinate against him, perhaps your son may have
better success.

Sir ANTHONY
Well, madam, I will write for the boy directly. He knows not a syllable
of this yet, though I have for some time had the proposal in my head.
He is at present with his regiment.

Mrs. MALAPROP
We have never seen your son, Sir Anthony; but I hope no objection on
his side.

Sir ANTHONY
Objection! --let him object if he dare! --No, no, Mrs. Malaprop, Jack
knows that the least demur puts me in a frenzy directly. My process was
always very simple--in their younger days, 'twas "Jack, do this";--if
he demurred, I knocked him down--and if he grumbled at that, I always
sent him out of the room.

Mrs. MALAPROP
Ay, and the properest way, o' my conscience! --nothing is so
conciliating to young people as severity. --Well, Sir Anthony, I shall
give Mr. Acres his discharge, and prepare Lydia to receive your son's
invocations;--and I hope you will represent her to the captain as an
object not altogether illegible.

Sir ANTHONY
Madam, I will handle the subject prudently. --Well, I must leave you;
and let me beg you, Mrs. Malaprop, to enforce this matter roundly to
the girl. --Take my advice--keep a tight hand: if she rejects this
proposal, clap her under lock and key; and if you were just to let the
servants forget to bring her dinner for three or four days, you can't
conceive how she'd come about. [Exit. ]

Mrs. MALAPROP
Well, at any rate, I shall be glad to get her from under my intuition.
She has somehow discovered my partiality for Sir Lucius
O'Trigger--sure, Lucy can't have betrayed me! --No, the girl is such a
simpleton, I should have made her confess it. --Lucy! --Lucy! --[Calls. ]
Had she been one of your artificial ones, I should never have trusted
her.

[Re-enter LUCY. ]

LUCY
Did you call, ma'am?

Mrs. MALAPROP
Yes, girl. --Did you see Sir Lucius while you was out?

LUCY
No, indeed, ma'am, not a glimpse of him.

Mrs. MALAPROP
You are sure, Lucy, that you never mentioned----

LUCY
Oh gemini! I'd sooner cut my tongue out.

Mrs. MALAPROP
Well, don't let your simplicity be imposed on.

LUCY
No, ma'am.

Mrs. MALAPROP
So, come to me presently, and I'll give you another letter to Sir
Lucius; but mind, Lucy--if ever you betray what you are entrusted with
(unless it be other people's secrets to me), you forfeit my malevolence
for ever; and your being a simpleton shall be no excuse for your
locality. [Exit. ]

LUCY
Ha! ha! ha! --So, my dear Simplicity, let me give you a little
respite. --[Altering her manner. ] Let girls in my station be as fond as
they please of appearing expert, and knowing in their trusts; commend
me to a mask of silliness, and a pair of sharp eyes for my own interest
under it! --Let me see to what account have I turned my simplicity
lately. --[Looks at a paper. ] For _abetting Miss Lydia Languish in a
design of running away with an ensign! --in money, sundry times, twelve
pound twelve; gowns, five; hats, ruffles, caps, &c. , &c. ,
numberless! --From the said ensign, within this last month, six guineas
and a half_. --About a quarter's pay! --Item, _from Mrs. Malaprop, for
betraying the young people to her_--when I found matters were likely to
be discovered--_two guineas, and a black paduasoy. _--Item, _from Mr.
Acres, for carrying divers letters_--which I never delivered--_two
guineas, and a pair of buckles. _--Item, _from Sir Lucius O'Trigger,
three crowns, two gold pocket-pieces, and a silver snuff-box! _--Well
done, Simplicity! --Yet I was forced to make my Hibernian believe, that
he was corresponding, not with the aunt, but with the niece; for though
not over rich, I found he had too much pride and delicacy to sacrifice
the feelings of a gentleman to the necessities of his fortune. [Exit. ]


* * * * * * * * * * *


ACT II

* * * * * * *


Scene I. --CAPTAIN ABSOLUTE's Lodgings.
[CAPTAIN ABSOLUTE and FAG. ]

FAG
Sir, while I was there Sir Anthony came in: I told him you had sent me
to inquire after his health, and to know if he was at leisure to see
you.

ABSOLUTE
And what did he say, on hearing I was at Bath?

FAG
Sir, in my life I never saw an elderly gentleman more astonished! He
started back two or three paces, rapped out a dozen interjectural
oaths, and asked, what the devil had brought you here.

ABSOLUTE
Well, sir, and what did you say?

FAG
Oh, I lied, sir--I forgot the precise lie; but you may depend on't, he
got no truth from me. Yet, with submission, for fear of blunders in
future, I should be glad to fix what has brought us to Bath; in order
that we may lie a little consistently. Sir Anthony's servants were
curious, sir, very curious indeed.

ABSOLUTE
You have said nothing to them?

FAG
Oh, not a word, sir,--not a word! Mr. Thomas, indeed, the coachman
(whom I take to be the discreetest of whips)----

ABSOLUTE
'Sdeath! --you rascal! you have not trusted him!

FAG
Oh, no, sir--no--no--not a syllable, upon my veracity! --He was, indeed,
a little inquisitive; but I was sly, sir--devilish sly! My master (said
I), honest Thomas (you know, sir, one says honest to one's inferiors,)
is come to Bath to recruit--Yes, sir, I said to recruit--and whether
for men, money, or constitution, you know, sir, is nothing to him, nor
any one else.

ABSOLUTE
Well, recruit will do--let it be so.

FAG
Oh, sir, recruit will do surprisingly--indeed, to give the thing an
air, I told Thomas, that your honour had already enlisted five
disbanded chairmen, seven minority waiters, and thirteen
billiard-markers.

ABSOLUTE
You blockhead, never say more than is necessary.

FAG
I beg pardon, sir--I beg pardon--but, with submission, a lie is nothing
unless one supports it. Sir, whenever I draw on my invention for a good
current lie, I always forge indorsements as well as the bill.

ABSOLUTE
Well, take care you don't hurt your credit, by offering too much
security. --Is Mr. Faulkland returned?

FAG
He is above, sir, changing his dress.

ABSOLUTE
Can you tell whether he has been informed of Sir Anthony and Miss
Melville's arrival?

FAG
I fancy not, sir; he has seen no one since he came in but his
gentleman, who was with him at Bristol. --I think, sir, I hear Mr.
Faulkland coming down----

ABSOLUTE
Go, tell him I am here.

FAG
Yes, sir. --[Going. ] I beg pardon, sir, but should Sir Anthony call, you
will do me the favour to remember that we are recruiting, if you
please.

ABSOLUTE
Well, well.

FAG
And, in tenderness to my character, if your honour could bring in the
chairmen and waiters, I should esteem it as an obligation; for though I
never scruple a lie to serve my master, yet it hurts one's conscience
to be found out. [Exit. ]

ABSOLUTE
Now for my whimsical friend--if he does not know that his mistress is
here, I'll tease him a little before I tell him----

[Enter FAULKLAND. ]

Faulkland, you're welcome to Bath again; you are punctual in your
return.

FAULKLAND
Yes; I had nothing to detain me, when I had finished the business I
went on. Well, what news since I left you? how stand matters between
you and Lydia?

ABSOLUTE
Faith, much as they were; I have not seen her since our quarrel;
however, I expect to be recalled every hour.

FAULKLAND
Why don't you persuade her to go off with you at once?

ABSOLUTE
What, and lose two-thirds of her fortune? you forget that, my
friend. --No, no, I could have brought her to that long ago.

FAULKLAND
Nay then, you trifle too long--if you are sure of her, propose to the
aunt in your own character, and write to Sir Anthony for his consent.

ABSOLUTE
Softly, softly; for though I am convinced my little Lydia would elope
with me as Ensign Beverley, yet am I by no means certain that she would
take me with the impediment of our friends' consent, a regular humdrum
wedding, and the reversion of a good fortune on my side: no, no; I must
prepare her gradually for the discovery, and make myself necessary to
her, before I risk it. --Well, but Faulkland, you'll dine with us to-day
at the hotel?

FAULKLAND
Indeed I cannot; I am not in spirits to be of such a party.

ABSOLUTE
By heavens! I shall forswear your company. You are the most teasing,
captious, incorrigible lover! --Do love like a man.

FAULKLAND
I own I am unfit for company.

ABSOLUTE
Am I not a lover; ay, and a romantic one too? Yet do I carry every
where with me such a confounded farrago of doubts, fears, hopes,
wishes, and all the flimsy furniture of a country miss's brain!

FAULKLAND
Ah! Jack, your heart and soul are not, like mine, fixed immutably on
one only object. You throw for a large stake, but losing, you could
stake and throw again;--but I have set my sum of happiness on this
cast, and not to succeed, were to be stripped of all.

ABSOLUTE
But, for heaven's sake! what grounds for apprehension can your
whimsical brain conjure up at present?

FAULKLAND
What grounds for apprehension, did you say? Heavens! are there not a
thousand! I fear for her spirits--her health--her life!
--My absence may
fret her; her anxiety for my return, her fears for me may oppress her
gentle temper: and for her health, does not every hour bring me cause
to be alarmed? If it rains, some shower may even then have chilled her
delicate frame! If the wind be keen, some rude blast may have affected
her! The heat of noon, the dews of the evening, may endanger the life
of her, for whom only I value mine. O Jack! when delicate and feeling
souls are separated, there is not a feature in the sky, not a movement
of the elements, not an aspiration of the breeze, but hints some cause
for a lover's apprehension!

ABSOLUTE
Ay, but we may choose whether we will take the hint or not. --So, then,
Faulkland, if you were convinced that Julia were well and in spirits,
you would be entirely content?

FAULKLAND
I should be happy beyond measure--I am anxious only for that.

ABSOLUTE
Then to cure your anxiety at once--Miss Melville is in perfect health,
and is at this moment in Bath.

FAULKLAND
Nay, Jack--don't trifle with me.

ABSOLUTE
She is arrived here with my father within this hour.

FAULKLAND
Can you be serious?

ABSOLUTE
I thought you knew Sir Anthony better than to be surprised at a sudden
whim of this kind. --Seriously, then, it is as I tell you--upon my
honour.

FAULKLAND
My dear friend! --Hollo, Du-Peigne! my hat. --My dear Jack--now nothing
on earth can give me a moment's uneasiness.

[Re-enter FAG. ]

FAG
Sir, Mr. Acres, just arrived, is below.

ABSOLUTE
Stay, Faulkland, this Acres lives within a mile of Sir Anthony, and he
shall tell you how your mistress has been ever since you left
her. --Fag, show this gentleman up.

[Exit FAG. ]

FAULKLAND
What, is he much acquainted in the family?

ABSOLUTE
Oh, very intimate: I insist on your not going: besides, his character
will divert you.

FAULKLAND
Well, I should like to ask him a few questions.

ABSOLUTE
He is likewise a rival of mine--that is, of my other self's, for he
does not think his friend Captain Absolute ever saw the lady in
question; and it is ridiculous enough to hear him complain to me of one
Beverley, a concealed skulking rival, who----

FAULKLAND
Hush! --he's here.

[Enter ACRES. ]

ACRES
Ha! my dear friend, noble captain, and honest Jack, how do'st thou?
just arrived, faith, as you see. --Sir, your humble servant. --Warm work
on the roads, Jack! --Odds whips and wheels! I've travelled like a
comet, with a tail of dust all the way as long as the Mall.

ABSOLUTE
Ah! Bob, you are indeed an eccentric planet, but we know your
attraction hither. --Give me leave to introduce Mr. Faulkland to you; Mr.
Faulkland, Mr. Acres.

ACRES
Sir, I am most heartily glad to see you: sir, I solicit your
connections. --Hey, Jack--what, this is Mr. Faulkland, who----

ABSOLUTE
Ay, Bob, Miss Melville's Mr. Faulkland.

ACRES
Odso! she and your father can be but just arrived before me:--I suppose
you have seen them. Ah! Mr. Faulkland, you are indeed a happy man.

FAULKLAND
I have not seen Miss Melville yet, sir;--I hope she enjoyed full health
and spirits in Devonshire?

ACRES
Never knew her better in my life, sir,--never better. Odds blushes and
blooms! she has been as healthy as the German Spa.

FAULKLAND
Indeed! I did hear that she had been a little indisposed.

ACRES
False, false, sir--only said to vex you: quite the reverse, I assure
you.

FAULKLAND
There, Jack, you see she has the advantage of me; I had almost fretted
myself ill.

ABSOLUTE
Now are you angry with your mistress for not having been sick?

FAULKLAND
No, no, you misunderstand me: yet surely a little trifling
indisposition is not an unnatural consequence of absence from those we
love. --Now confess--isn't there something unkind in this violent,
robust, unfeeling health?

ABSOLUTE
Oh, it was very unkind of her to be well in your absence, to be sure!

ACRES
Good apartments, Jack.

FAULKLAND
Well, sir, but you was saying that Miss Melville has been so
exceedingly well--what then she has been merry and gay, I
suppose? --Always in spirits--hey?

ACRES
Merry, odds crickets! she has been the belle and spirit of the company
wherever she has been--so lively and entertaining! so full of wit and
humour!

FAULKLAND
There, Jack, there. --Oh, by my soul! there is an innate levity in
woman, that nothing can overcome. --What! happy, and I away!

ABSOLUTE
Have done. --How foolish this is! just now you were only apprehensive
for your mistress' spirits.

FAULKLAND
Why, Jack, have I been the joy and spirit of the company?

ABSOLUTE
No, indeed, you have not.

FAULKLAND
Have I been lively and entertaining?

ABSOLUTE
Oh, upon my word, I acquit you.

FAULKLAND
Have I been full of wit and humour?

ABSOLUTE
No, faith, to do you justice, you have been confoundedly stupid indeed.

ACRES
What's the matter with the gentleman?

ABSOLUTE
He is only expressing his great satisfaction at hearing that Julia has
been so well and happy--that's all--hey, Faulkland?

FAULKLAND
Oh! I am rejoiced to hear it--yes, yes, she has a happy disposition!

ACRES
That she has indeed--then she is so accomplished--so sweet a voice--so
expert at her harpsichord--such a mistress of flat and sharp,
squallante, rumblante, and quiverante! --There was this time month--odds
minims and crotchets! how she did chirrup at Mrs. Piano's concert!

FAULKLAND
There again, what say you to this? you see she has been all mirth and
song--not a thought of me!

ABSOLUTE
Pho! man, is not music the food of love?

FAULKLAND
Well, well, it may be so. --Pray, Mr. --, what's his damned name? --Do you
remember what songs Miss Melville sung?

ACRES
Not I indeed.

ABSOLUTE
Stay, now, they were some pretty melancholy purling-stream airs, I
warrant; perhaps you may recollect;--did she sing, _When absent from my
soul's delight_?

ACRES
No, that wa'n't it.

ABSOLUTE
Or, _Go, gentle gales_! [Sings. ]

ACRES
Oh, no! nothing like it. Odds! now I recollect one of them--_My heart's
my own, my will is free_. [Sings. ]

FAULKLAND
Fool! fool that I am! to fix all my happiness on such a trifler!
'Sdeath! to make herself the pipe and ballad-monger of a circle! to
soothe her light heart with catches and glees! --What can you say to
this, sir?

ABSOLUTE
Why, that I should be glad to hear my mistress had been so merry, sir.

FAULKLAND
Nay, nay, nay--I'm not sorry that she has been happy--no, no, I am glad
of that--I would not have had her sad or sick--yet surely a sympathetic
heart would have shown itself even in the choice of a song--she might
have been temperately healthy, and somehow, plaintively gay;--but she
has been dancing too, I doubt not!

ACRES
What does the gentleman say about dancing?

ABSOLUTE
He says the lady we speak of dances as well as she sings.

ACRES
Ay, truly, does she--there was at our last race ball----

FAULKLAND
Hell and the devil! There! --there--I told you so! I told you so! Oh!
she thrives in my absence! --Dancing! but her whole feelings have been
in opposition with mine;--I have been anxious, silent, pensive,
sedentary--my days have been hours of care, my nights of
watchfulness. --She has been all health! spirit! laugh! song!
dance! --Oh! damned, damned levity!

ABSOLUTE
For Heaven's sake, Faulkland, don't expose yourself so! --Suppose she
has danced, what then? --does not the ceremony of society often oblige
----

FAULKLAND
Well, well, I'll contain myself--perhaps as you say--for form
sake. --What, Mr. Acres, you were praising Miss Melville's manner of
dancing a minuet--hey?

ACRES
Oh, I dare insure her for that--but what I was going to speak of was
her country-dancing. Odds swimmings! she has such an air with her!

FAULKLAND
Now disappointment on her! --Defend this, Absolute; why don't you defend
this? --Country-dances! jigs and reels! am I to blame now? A minuet I
could have forgiven--I should not have minded that--I say I should not
have regarded a minuet--but country-dances! --Zounds! had she made one
in a cotillion--I believe I could have forgiven even that--but to be
monkey-led for a night! --to run the gauntlet through a string of
amorous palming puppies! --to show paces like a managed filly! --Oh,
Jack, there never can be but one man in the world whom a truly modest
and delicate woman ought to pair with in a country-dance; and, even
then, the rest of the couples should be her great-uncles and aunts!

ABSOLUTE
Ay, to be sure! --grandfathers and grandmothers!

FAULKLAND
If there be but one vicious mind in the set, 'twill spread like a
contagion--the action of their pulse beats to the lascivious movement
of the jig--their quivering, warm-breathed sighs impregnate the very
air--the atmosphere becomes electrical to love, and each amorous spark
darts through every link of the chain! --I must leave you--I own I am
somewhat flurried--and that confounded looby has perceived it. [Going. ]

ABSOLUTE
Nay, but stay, Faulkland, and thank Mr. Acres for his good news.

FAULKLAND
Damn his news! [Exit. ]

ABSOLUTE
Ha! ha! ha! poor Faulkland five minutes since--"nothing on earth could
give him a moment's uneasiness! "

ACRES
The gentleman wa'n't angry at my praising his mistress, was he?

ABSOLUTE
A little jealous, I believe, Bob.

ACRES
You don't say so? Ha! ha! jealous of me--that's a good joke.

ABSOLUTE
There's nothing strange in that, Bob; let me tell you, that sprightly
grace and insinuating manner of yours will do some mischief among the
girls here.

ACRES
Ah! you joke--ha! ha! mischief--ha! ha! but you know I am not my own
property, my dear Lydia has forestalled me. She could never abide me in
the country, because I used to dress so badly--but odds frogs and
tambours! I shan't take matters so here, now ancient madam has no voice
in it: I'll make my old clothes know who's master. I shall straightway
cashier the hunting-frock, and render my leather breeches incapable. My
hair has been in training some time.

ABSOLUTE
Indeed!

ACRES
Ay--and tho'ff the side curls are a little restive, my hind-part takes
it very kindly.

ABSOLUTE
Ah, you'll polish, I doubt not.

ACRES
Absolutely I propose so--then if I can find out this Ensign Beverley,
odds triggers and flints! I'll make him know the difference o't.

ABSOLUTE
Spoke like a man! But pray, Bob, I observe you have got an odd kind of
a new method of swearing----

ACRES
Ha! ha! you've taken notice of it--'tis genteel, isn't it! --I didn't
invent it myself though; but a commander in our militia, a great
scholar, I assure you, says that there is no meaning in the common
oaths, and that nothing but their antiquity makes them
respectable;--because, he says, the ancients would never stick to an
oath or two, but would say, by Jove! or by Bacchus! or by Mars! or by
Venus! or by Pallas, according to the sentiment: so that to swear with
propriety, says my little major, the oath should be an echo to the
sense; and this we call the _oath referential_, or _sentimental
swearing_--ha! ha!