No More Learning

_Sylv. _ Look in your face and tell you! for what? to spoil my
stomach to my supper?

_Cour. _ No, but to get thee a stomach to thy bed, sweetheart; I
would if possible be better acquainted with thee, because thou
art very ill-natured.

_Sylv. _ Your only way to bring that business about effectually,
is to be more troublesome; and if you think it worth your
while to be abused substantially, you may make your personal
appearance this night.

_Cour. _ How? where? and when? and what hour, I beseech thee?

_Sylv. _ Under the window, between the hours of eleven and
twelve exactly.

_Cour. _ Where shall these lovely eyes and ears
Hear my plaints, and see my tears?

_Sylv. _ At that kind hour thy griefs shall end,
If thou canst know thy foe from thy friend. [_Exit. _

_Cour. _ Here's another trick of the devil now; under that
window between the hours of eleven and twelve exactly! I am a
damned fool, and must go: let me see; suppose I meet with a
lusty beating: pish, that's nothing for a man that's in love;
or suppose she contrive some way to make a public coxcomb of
me, and expose me to the scorn of the world, for an example to
all amorous blockheads hereafter? why, if she do, I'll swear
I have lain with her; beat her relations, if they pretend to
vindicate her; and so there's one love-intrigue pretty well
over. [_Exit. _

_Enter_ Sir DAVY DUNCE _and_ VERMIN.

_Sir Dav. _ Go, get you in to your lady now, and tell her I am
coming.

_Ver. _ Her ladyship, right worshipful, is pleased not to be at
home.

_Sir Dav. _ How's that? my lady not at home! Run, run in and ask
when she went forth, whither she is gone, and who is with her;
run and ask, Vermin.

_Ver. _ She went out in her chair presently after you this
afternoon.

_Sir Dav. _ Then I may be a cuckold still for aught I know: what
will become of me? I have surely lost, and ne'er shall find her
more; she promised me strictly to stay at home till I came back
again; for aught I know she may be up three pair of stairs in
the Temple now.

_Ver. _ Is her ladyship in law then, sir?

_Sir Dav. _ Or it may be taking the air as far as Knightsbridge,
with some smooth-faced rogue or another. 'Tis a damned house,
that Swan: that Swan at Knightsbridge is a confounded house,
Vermin.

_Ver. _ Do you think she is there then?

_Sir Dav. _ No, I do not think she is there neither; but such a
thing may be, you know: would that Barn-Elms was under water
too! there's a thousand cuckolds a year made at Barn-Elms by
Rosamond's Ponds:[40] the devil! if she should be there this
evening my heart's broke.

_Enter_ Sir JOLLY.

_Sir Jol. _ That must be Sir Davy; ay, that's he, that's he,
ha, ha, ha; was ever the like heard of? was ever anything so
pleasant?

_Sir Dav. _ I'll lock her up three days and three nights without
meat, drink, or light; I'll humble her in the devil's name.

_Sir Jol. _ Well, could I but meet my friend Sir Davy, it would
be the joyfullest news for him--

_Sir Dav. _ Who's there that has anything to say to me?

_Sir Jol. _ Ah, my friend of friends, such news, such tidings!

_Sir Dav. _ I have lost my wife, man.

_Sir Jol. _ Lost her! she's not dead, I hope?

_Sir Dav. _ Yes. Alas, she's dead, irrecoverably lost!

_Sir Jol. _ Why, I parted with her within this half-hour.

_Sir Dav. _ Did you so? are you sure it was she? where was it?
I'll have my lord chief-justice's warrant and a constable
presently.

_Sir Jol. _ And she made the purest sport now with a young
fellow, man, that she met withal accidentally.

_Sir Dav. _ O Lord, that's worse and worse! a young fellow! --my
wife making sport with a young fellow! O Lord! here are doings,
here are vagaries! I'll run mad. I'll climb Bow-steeple
presently, bestride the dragon, and preach cuckoldom to the
whole city.

_Sir Jol. _ The best of all was, too, that it happened to be an
idle coxcomb that pretended to be in love with her, neighbour.

_Sir Dav. _ Indeed! in love with her! who was it? what's his
name? I warrant you won't tell a body--I'll indict him in the
Crown-office; no, I'll issue warrants to apprehend him for
treason upon the statute of Edward 19. Won't you tell me what
young fellow it was? was it a very handsome young fellow, ha?

_Sir Jol. _ Handsome? yes, hang him; the fellow's handsome
enough: he is not very handsome neither, but he has a devilish
leering black eye.

_Sir Dav. _ O Lord!

_Sir Jol. _ His face too is a good riding face; 'tis no soft
effeminate complexion indeed, but his countenance is ruddy,
sanguine, and cheerful; a devilish fellow in a corner, I'll
warrant him.

_Sir Dav. _ Bless us! what will become of me? Why the devil
did I marry a young wife? Is he very well shaped too, tall,
straight, and proportionable, ha?

_Sir Jol. _ Tall? no, he's not very tall neither, yet he is tall
enough too: he's none of your overgrown, lubberly Flanders
jades, but more of the true English breed, well-knit, able, and
fit for service, old boy; the fellow is well shaped truly, very
well proportioned, strong and active. I have seen the rogue
leap like a buck.

_Sir Dav. _ Who can this be? Well, and what think you, friend,
has he been there? Come, come, I'm sensible she's a young
woman; and I am an old fellow--troth, a very old fellow,
I signify little or nothing now. But do you think he has
prevailed? am I cuckold, neighbour?

_Sir Jol. _ Cuckold! what, a cuckold in Covent-garden! no, I'll
assure you, I believe her to be the most virtuous woman in the
world; but if you had but seen--

_Sir Dav. _ Ay, would I had! what was it?

_Sir Jol. _ How like a rogue she used him: first of all comes me
up the spark to her. "Madam," says he--and then he bows down,
thus. "How now," says she, "what would the impertinent fellow
have? "

_Sir Dav. _ Humph! ha! well, and what then?

_Sir Jol. _ "Madam," says he again, bowing as he did before, "my
heart is so entirely yours, that except you take pity on my
sufferings I must here die at your feet. "

_Sir Dav. _ So, and what said she again, neighbour? ha!

_Sir Jol. _ "Go, you are a fop. "

_Sir Dav. _ Ha, ha, ha! did she indeed? Did she say so indeed? I
am glad on't, troth, I am very glad on't. Well, and what next?
And how, and well, and what? ha!

_Sir Jol. _ "Madam," says he, "this won't do; I am your humble
servant for all this; you may pretend to be as ill-natured as
you please, but I shall make bold. "

_Sir Dav. _ Was there ever such an impudent fellow?

_Sir Jol. _ With that, "Sirrah," says she, "you are a saucy
jackanapes, and I'll have you kicked. "

_Sir Dav. _ Ha, ha, ha! Well, I would not be unmarried again to
be an angel.

_Sir Jol. _ But the best jest of all was, who this should be at
last.

_Sir Dav. _ Ay, who indeed! I'll warrant you some silly fellow
or other, poor fool!

_Sir Jol. _ E'en a scandalous rakehell, that lingers up and down
the town by the name of Captain Beaugard; but he has been a
bloody cuckold-making scoundrel in his time.

_Sir Dav. _ Hang him, sot, is it he? I don't value him this, not
a wet finger, man. To my knowledge she hates him, she scorns
him, neighbour; I know it, I am very well satisfied in the
point; besides, I have seen him since that, and out-hectored
him: I am to tell her from his own mouth, that he promises
never to affront her more.

_Sir Jol. _ Indeed!

_Sir Dav. _ Ay, ay--

_Enter_ Lady DUNCE, _paying her_ Chairman.

_Chair. _ God bless you, madam, thank your honour!

_Sir Jol. _ Hush, hush! there's my lady. I'll be gone, I'll not
be seen; your humble servant, God b'w'ye.

_Sir Dav. _ No faith, Sir Jolly, e'en go into my house now, and
stay supper with me, we ha'n't supped together a great while.

_Sir Jol. _ Ha! say you so? I don't care if I do, faith, with
all my heart; this may give me an opportunity to set all things
right again. [_Aside. _

_Sir Dav. _ My dear!

_L. Dunce. _ Sir!

_Sir Dav. _ You have been abroad, my dear, I see.

_L. Dunce. _ Only for a little air; truly I was almost stifled
within doors; I hope you will not be angry, Sir Davy, will you?

_Sir Dav. _ Angry, child! no, child, not I; what should I be
angry for?

_L. Dunce. _ I wonder, Sir Davy, you will serve me at this rate.
Did you not promise to go in my behalf to Beaugard, and correct
him according to my instructions for his insolence?

_Sir Dav. _ So I did, child; I have been with him, sweetheart;
I have told him all to a tittle; I gave him back again the
picture too: but, as the devil would have it, I forgot the
ring--faith, I did.

_L. Dunce. _ Did you purpose, Sir Sodom, to render me ridiculous
to the man I abominate? what scandalous interpretation, think
you, must he make of my retaining any trifle of his, sent me on
so dishonourable terms!

_Sir Dav. _ Really, my lamb, thou art in the right; yet I went
back afterwards, dear heart, and did the business to some
purpose.

_L. Dunce. _ I am glad that you did, with all my heart.

_Sir Dav. _ I gave him his lesson, I'll warrant him.

_L. Dunce. _ Lesson! what lesson had you to give him?

_Sir Dav. _ Why, I told him as he liked that usage he might come
again; ha, ha, ha!

_L. Dunce. _ Ay, and so let him.

_Sir Dav. _ With all my heart, I'll give him free leave, or
hang me; though thou wouldst not imagine how the poor devil's
altered. La you there now, but as certainly as I stand here,
that man is troubled that he swears he shall not rest day nor
night till he has satisfied thee; pr'ythee be satisfied with
him if 'tis possible, my dear, pr'ythee do. I promised him,
before I left him, to tell thee as much: for the poor wretch
looks so simply, I could not choose but pity him, I vow and
swear, ha, ha, ha!

_Sir Jol. _ Now, now, you little witch! now, you chitsface!
Odd, I could find in my heart to put my little finger in your
bubbies.

_L. Dunce. _ Sir Davy, I must tell you, that I cannot but resent
your so soon reconcilement with a man that I hate worse than
death, and that if you loved me with half that tenderness which
you profess, you would not forget an affront so palpably and so
basely offered me.

_Sir Dav. _ Why, chicken, where's the remedy? What's to be done?
How wouldst thou have me deal with him?

_L. Dunce. _ Cut his throat.

_Sir Dav. _ Bless us for ever! cut his throat! what, do murder?

_L. Dunce. _ Murder! yes, anything to such an incorrigible enemy
of your honour, one that has resolved to persist in abusing of
you. See here this letter, this I received since I last parted
with you; just now it was thrown into my chair by an impudent
lackey of his, kept o' purpose for such employments.

_Sir Dav. _ Let me see: a letter, indeed! --"For the Lady Dunce":
damned rogue, treacherous dog, what can he say in the inside
now? here's a villain!

_L. Dunce. _ Yes, you had best break it open, you had so; 'tis
like the rest of your discretion.

_Sir Dav. _ Lady, if I have an enemy, it is best for me to know
what mischief he intends me; therefore, with your leave, I will
break it open.

_L. Dunce. _ Do, do, to have him believe that I was pleased
enough with it to do it myself: if you have the spirit of a
gentleman in you, carry it back, and dash it, as it is, in the
face of that audacious fellow.

_Sir Jol. _ What can be the meaning of this now?

_Sir Dav. _ A gentleman! yes, madam, I am a gentleman, and the
world shall find that I am a gentleman. --I have certainly the
best woman in the world. [_Aside. _

_L. Dunce. _ What do you think must be the end of all this? I
have no refuge in the world but your kindness: had I a jealous
husband now, how miserable must my life be!

_Sir Jol. _ Ah, rogue's nose! ah, devil! ah, toad! cunning
thief, wheedling slut, I'll bite her by and by.

_Sir Dav. _ Poor fool! No, dear, I am not jealous, nor never
will be jealous of thee; do what thou wilt, thou shalt not
make me jealous: I love thee too well to suspect thee.

_L. Dunce. _ Ah, but how long will you do so?

_Sir Dav. _ How long? as long as I live, I warrant thee,
I--don't talk to a body so: I cannot hold if thou dost, my eyes
will run over, poor fool! poor birdsnies! poor lambkin!

_L. Dunce. _ But will you be so kind to me to answer my desires?
will you once more endeavour to make that traitor sensible that
I have too just an esteem of you not to value his addresses as
they deserve?

_Sir Dav. _ Ay, ay, I will.

_L. Dunce. _ But don't stay away too long, dear; make what haste
you can; I shall be in pain till I see you again.

_Sir Dav. _ My dear, my love, my babby, I'll be with thee in a
moment. How happy am I above the rest of men! Neighbour, dear
neighbour, walk in with my wife, and keep her company till
I return again. Child, don't be troubled, pr'ythee don't be
troubled. --Was there ever such a wife? well, da, da, da: don't
be troubled, pr'ythee don't be troubled, pr'ythee don't be
troubled, da, da. [_Exeunt_ Sir DAVY _and_ VERMIN.

_L. Dunce. _ Sir Jolly, Sir Jolly, Sir Jolly.

_Sir Jol. _ Don't be troubled, pr'ythee don't be troubled, da,
da.

_L. Dunce. _ But, Sir Jolly, can you guess whereabout my
wandering officer may be probably found now?

_Sir Jol. _ Found, lady? he is to be found, madam--he is to be
at my house presently, lady; he's certainly one of the finest
fellows in the world.

_L. Dunce. _ You speak like a friend, Sir Jolly.

_Sir Jol. _ His friend, lady? no, madam, his foe, his utter
enemy; I shall be his ruin, I shall undo him.

_L. Dunce. _ You may, if you please, then come both and play
at cards this evening with me for an hour or two; for I have
contrived it so, that Sir Davy is to be abroad at supper
to-night; he cannot possibly avoid it; I long to win some of
the captain's money strangely.

_Sir Jol. _ Do you so, my gamester? Well, I'll be sure to bring
him, and for what he carries about him, I'll warrant you--odd,
he's a pretty fellow, a very pretty fellow, he has only one
fault.

_L. Dunce. _ And what is that I beseech you, sir?

_Sir Jol. _ Only too loving, too good-natured, that's all; 'tis
certainly the best-natured fool breathing, that's all his fault.

_L. Dunce. _ Hist, hist, I think I see company coming; if you
please, Sir Jolly, we'll go in.

_Enter_ BEAUGARD, _followed by_ Sir DAVY _and_
VERMIN.

_Sir Jol. _ Mum, mum, mum, 'tis he himself, the very same; odds
so, Sir Davy after him too! Hush, hush, hush, let us be gone,
let us retire. Do but look upon him now, mind him a little;
there's a shape, there's an air, there's a motion! Ah, rogue,
ah, devil, get you in, get you in, I say. There's a shape for
you! [_Exit_ Lady DUNCE.

_Beau. _ What the devil shall I do to recover this day's loss
again? my honourable pimp too, my pander knight has forsaken
me; methinks I am quandaried, like one going with a party to
discover the enemy's camp, but had lost his guide upon the
mountains. Curse on him, old Argus is here again; there can be
no good fortune towards me when he's at my heels.

_Sir Dav. _ Sir, sir, sir, one word with you, sir! Captain,
captain, noble captain, one word, I beseech you.

_Beau. _ With me, friend?

_Sir Dav. _ Yes, with you, my no-friend.

_Beau. _ Sir Davy, my intimate, my bosom-physician!

_Sir Dav. _ Ah, rogue! damned rogue!

_Beau. _ My confessor, my dearest friend I ever had!

_Sir Dav. _ Dainty wheedle, here's a fellow for ye!

_Beau. _ One that has taught me to be in love with virtue, and
shown me the ugly inside of my follies.

_Sir Dav. _ Sir, your humble servant.

_Beau. _ Is that all? if you are as cold in your love as you are
in your friendship, Sir Davy, your lady has the worst time on't
of any one in Christendom.

_Sir Dav. _ So she has, sir, when she cannot be free from the
impudent solicitations of such fellows as you are, sir.

_Beau. _ As me, sir! why, who am I, good Sir Domine Doddlepate?

_Sir Dav. _ So, take notice he threatens me; I'll have him
bound to the peace instantly. Will you never have remorse of
conscience, friend? have you banished all shame from your soul?
Do you consider my name is Sir Davy Dunce? that I have the most
virtuous wife living? do you consider that? Now how like a
rogue he looks again! what a hang-dog leer was that!

_Beau. _ Your virtuous wife, sir! you are always harping upon
that string, Sir Davy.

_Sir Dav. _ No, 'tis you would be harping upon that string,
sir: see you this? cast your eyes upon this, this letter, sir.
Did you not promise, this very day, to abandon all manner of
proceedings of this nature, tending to the dishonour of me and
my family?

_Beau. _ Letter, sir! What the devil does he mean now? Let me
see, "For the Lady Dunce"; this is no scrawl of mine, I'll be
sworn; by Jove, her own hand! what a dog was I! forty to one
but I had played the fool, and spoiled all again. Was there
ever so charming a creature breathing! --Did your lady deliver
this to your hands, sir?