No More Learning

BERNICK: My husband managed to block the
scheme, but the papers, in consequence, said shameful
things about him. But we are forgetting, dear rector,
that we have to thank you for devoting so much time
to us.

RORLUND: Do you not all make sacrifices in a good
cause to save the lapsed and lost?

HILMAR TONNESEN (_coming in with a cigar in his
mouth_): I have only looked in in passing. Good-morning,
ladies! Well, you know Bernick has called a cabinet
council about this railway nonsense again. When it is a
question of money, then everything here ends in paltry
material calculations.

MRS. BERNICK: But at any rate things are better than
formerly, when everything ended in dissipation.

MRS. RUMMEL: Only think of fifteen years ago.
What a life, with the dancing club and music club! I
well remember the noisy gaiety among families.

MRS. LYNGE: There was a company of strolling players,
who, I was told, played many pranks. What was
the truth of the matter?

Mrs. Rummel, when Dina is out of the room, explains to the ladies
that the girl is the daughter of a strolling player who years before
had come to perform for a season in the town. Dorf, the actor, had
deserted both wife and child, and the wife had to take to work to
which she was unaccustomed, was seized with a pulmonary malady, and
died. Then Dina had been adopted by the Bernicks.

Mrs. Rummel goes on to explain that at that season also Johan, Mrs.
Bernick's brother, had run away to America. After his departure it
was discovered that he had been playing tricks with the cash-box of
the firm, of which his widowed mother had become the head. Karsten,
now Consul, Bernick had just come home from Paris. He became engaged
to Betty Tonnesen, now his wife, but when he entered her aunt's room,
with the girl on his arm, to announce his betrothal, Lona Hessel rose
from her chair and violently boxed his ear. Then she packed her box,
and went off to America. Little had been heard of Lona, except that
she had in America sung in taverns, and had given lectures, and had
written a most sensational book.


ACT II

SCENE. --_The same garden-room. _ MRS. BERNICK. AUNE _enters and greets_
CONSUL BERNICK.

BERNICK: I am not at all pleased, Aune, with the way
things are going on in the yard. The repairs are slow.
The _Palm Tree_ should long since have been at sea.
That American ship, the _Indian Girl_, has been lying here
five weeks. You do not know how to use the new machines,
or else you will not use them.

AUNE: Consul, the _Palm Tree_ can go to sea in two
days, but the _Indian Girl_ is as rotten as matchwood in
the bottom planking. Now, I am getting on for sixty,
and I cannot take to new ways. I am afraid for the
many folk whom the machinery will deprive of a livelihood.

BERNICK: I did not send for you to argue. Listen
now. The _Indian Girl_ must be got ready to sail in two
days, at the same time as our own ship. There are reasons
for this decision. The carping newspaper critics
are pretending that we are giving all our attention to the
_Palm Tree_. If you will not do what I order, I must
look for somebody who will.

AUNE: You are asking impossibilities, consul. But
surely you cannot think of dismissing me, whose father
and grandfather worked here all their lives before me.
Do you know what is meant by the dismissal of an old
workman?

BERNICK: You are a stubborn fellow, Aune. You
oppose me from perversity. I am sorry indeed if we
must part, Aune.

AUNE: We will not part, consul. The _Indian Girl_
shall be cleared in two days.

[AUNE _bows and retires. _ HILMAR TONNESEN _comes
through the garden gate. _

HILMAR: Good-day, Betty! Good-day, Bernick.
Have you heard the new sensation? The two Americans
are going about the streets in company with Dina Dorf.
The town is all excitement about it.

BERNICK (_looking out into the street_): They are
coming here. We must be sure to treat them well.
They will soon be away again.

[JOHAN _and_ LONA _enter. Presently all disperse into
the garden, and_ BERNICK _goes up to_ JOHAN.

BERNICK: Now we are alone, Johan, I must thank
you. For to you I owe home, happiness, position, and
all that I have and am. Not one in ten thousand would
have done all that you then did for me. I was the guilty
one. On the night when that drunken wretch came home
it was for Betty's sake that I broke off the entanglement
with Madame Dorf; but still, that you should act in such
a noble spirit of self-sacrifice as to turn appearances
against yourself, and go away, can never be forgotten
by me.

JOHAN: Oh, well, we were both young and thoughtless.
I was an orphan, alone and free, and was glad to get
away from office drudgery. You had your old mother
alive, and you had just engaged yourself to Betty, who
was very fond of you. We agreed that you must be
saved, and I was proud to be your friend. You had
come back like a prince from abroad, and chose me for
your closest friend. Now I know why. You were
making love to Betty. But I was proud of it.

BERNICK: Are you going back to your American
farm? Not soon, I hope.

JOHAN: As soon as possible. I only came over to
please Lona. She felt homesick. You can never think
what she has been to me. You never could tolerate her,
but to me she has been a mother, singing, lecturing, writing
to support me when I was ill and could not work.
And I may as well tell you frankly that I have told her
all. But do not fear her. She will say nothing. But
who would have dreamt of your taking into your house
that little creature who played angels in the theatre, and
scampered about here? What became of her parents?

BERNICK: I wrote you all that happened. The
drunken scoundrel, after leaving his wife, was killed in
a drinking bout. After the wife died it was through
Martha that we took little Dina in charge.

To the amazement of the Bernicks and some others, Johan makes it known
that he has asked Dina to be his wife, and that she has consented. To
their further astonishment and annoyance, Lona declares her profound
approval of this engagement. Moreover, Lona now challenges Bernick
to clear his soul of the lie on which he has stood for these fifteen
years. It is a three-fold lie--the lie towards Lona, then the lie
towards Betty, then the lie towards Johan. But Bernick shrinks from
the terrible shame that would come on him as one of the "pillars of
society. "


ACT III

SCENE. --CONSUL BERNICK'S _garden-room again_. KRAP _is
speaking to the_ CONSUL.

KRAP: The _Palm Tree_ can sail to-morrow, but as for
the _Indian Girl_, in my opinion she will not get far. I
have been secretly examining the bottom of the ship,
where the repairs have been pushed on very fast. The
rotten place is patched up, and made to look like new, for
Aune has been working himself all night at it. There is
some villainy at work. I believe Aune wants, out of
revenge for the use of the new machines, to send that
ship to the bottom of the sea.

BERNICK: This is horrible. True, Aune is an agitator
who is spreading discontent, but this is inconceivable.

[KRAP _goes out, and presently_ LONA HESSEL _enters_.

BERNICK: Well, Lona, what do you think of me now?

LONA: Just what I thought before. A lie more or
less----

BERNICK: I can talk to you more confidentially than
to others. I shall hide nothing from you. I had a part
in spreading that rumour about Johan and the cash-box.
But make allowance for me. Our house when I came
home from my foreign tour was threatened with ruin,
and one misfortune followed another. I was almost in
despair, and in my distraction got into that difficulty
which ended with the disappearance of Johan. Then
after you and he left various reports were spread. Some
folks declared that he had taken the money to America.
I was in such difficulty that I did not say a word to contradict
the rumours.

LONA: So a lie has made you one of the pillars of
society.

JOHAN (_entering_): I have come to tell you that I intend
not only to marry Dina Dorf, but to remain here and
to defy all these liars. Yesterday I promised to keep
silence, but now I need the truth. You must set me free
by telling the truth, that I may win Dina.

BERNICK (_in great agitation_): But just reflect on my
position. If you aim such a blow as this at me I am
ruined irretrievably. The welfare of this community is
also at stake. If my credit is not impaired, I shall soon
be a millionaire, when certain company projects mature.
Johan, go away, and I will share with you. I have
staked all I possess on schemes now about to mature, but
if my character is impaired, my utter ruin is inevitable.

To the surprise of Bernick, Johan announces that he will go to
America, but will shortly return for Dina, and that accordingly he
will sail next day in the _Indian Girl_, the captain having promised
to take him. He will sell his farm and be back in two months, and then
the guilty one must take the guilt on himself.

JOHAN: The wind is good, and in three weeks I shall
be across the Atlantic unless the _Indian Girl_ should go to
the bottom.

BERNICK (_involuntarily starting_): Go to the bottom?
Why should she?

JOHAN: Yes, indeed, why?

BERNICK (_very softly_): Go to the bottom?

They separate, and Aune enters, and anxiously asks if Bernick is
positively determined that the American ship shall sail the next day,
on pain of his dismissal. He replies that he supposes the repairs
are properly finished, and therefore the _Indian Girl_ must sail. A
merchant steps in to say that the storm-signals have been hoisted,
for a tempest is threatening. This gentleman says to Bernick that the
_Palm Tree_ ought to start all the same, for she is a splendidly-built
craft, and she is only to cross the North Sea; but as for the _Indian
Girl_, such an old hulk would be in great peril. But Bernick evades
the remonstrance, and no alteration is made in the plans of procedure.
The ship is to sail.


ACT IV

SCENE. --_The same garden-room. It is a stormy afternoon and growing
dark_.

Bernick is apprised that he is to be most honourably feted by his
fellow citizens who are about to form a procession, and to parade
before his house with music. The proudest moment of his life is at
hand. But the fact that the sea is running high outside the harbour
is causing great agitation to the mind of Bernick. Lona looks in to
say that she has been saying farewell to Johan. He has not changed his
determination to sail. A strange incident happens. Little Olaf Bernick
runs away from home to slip on board the ship and accompany his uncle
to America.

LONA: So the great hour has arrived. The whole
town is to be illuminated.

BERNICK (_pacing to and fro in agitation_): Yes.
Lona, you despise me.

LONA: Not yet.

BERNICK: You have no right to despise me. For you
little realise how lonely I stand in this narrow society.
What have I accomplished, with all my efforts? We
who are considered the pillars of society are but its tools
after all. Since you came home from America I have
been keenly feeling all this. All this show and deception
gives me no satisfaction. But I work for my son, who
will be able to found a truer state of things and to be
happier than his father.

LONA: With a lie for its basis? Think what an
heritage you are preparing for Olaf.

BERNICK: Why did you and Johan come home to
crush me?

LONA: Let me just tell you that after all Johan will
not come back to crush you. For he has gone for ever
and Dina has gone also to become his wife.

BERNICK (_amazed_): Gone--in the _Indian Girl_?

LONA: They did not dare to risk their lives in that
crazy tub. They are in the _Palm Tree_.

Bernick rushes to his office to order the _Indian Girl_ to be stopped
in the harbour, but he learns that she already is out at sea. But
presently Hilmar comes to tell him that Olaf has run away in the
_Indian Girl_. He cries out that the ship must be stopped at any cost.
Krap says it is impossible. Music is heard, for the procession is
approaching. Bernick, in an agony of soul, declares that he cannot
receive anyone. The whole street blazes with the illuminations, and
on a great transparency on the opposite house gleams the inscription,
"Long live Karsten Bernick, the Pillar of our Society! "

BERNICK (_at the window, shrinking back_): I cannot
look at all this. Away with all these mocking words! I
shall never see Olaf again.

MRS. BERNICK: You will see him again, Karsten, all
right. I have got him. Do you think a mother does not
watch? I overheard a few words from our boy which
set me on my guard. I and Aune went in the sailing
boat from the yard and reached the _Indian Girl_ when she
was on the point of sailing, and he was soon discovered
hiding away.

BERNICK: And is the ship under sail again?

MRS. BERNICK: No. The darkness came on more
densely, the pilot was alarmed, and so Aune, in your
name, took it on himself to order the ship to stay till
to-morrow.

BERNICK: What an unspeakable blessing.

KRAP: The procession is coming through the garden
gate, consul.

Rector Rorlund, at the head of the procession, makes a presentation to
Bernick in the name of the committee, and expresses the public esteem
and admiration for the consul's services to society. Bernick, to the
astonishment of the audience, proceeds to make a full confession of
the duplicity and deceit of which he has been guilty. He unreservedly
places himself in the hands of the people, who quietly disperse.
Bernick at once finds that, whatever the people may think, he has
won the sympathy of all his own circle. Lona lays her hands on his
shoulder with the words, "Brother-in-law, you have at last discovered
that the spirit of Truth and the spirit of Freedom are the real
Pillars of Society. "


FOOTNOTES:

[O] "The Pillars of Society," published in 1877, is perhaps
the most conspicuous of the series of psychological dramatic studies
through which Ibsen has exercised untold influence on European drama.
In it he deals with the problem of hypocrisy in a small commercial
centre of industry, and pours scorn on contemporary humanity, while
cherishing the highest hopes of human possibilities for the future.




BEN JONSON[P]




Every Man in His Humour


_Persons in the Comedy_

OLD KNOWELL
YOUNG KNOWELL, _in love with Bridget_
BRAIN-WORM
MASTER STEPHEN, _a country gull_
MASTER MATTHEW, _a town gull_
CAPTAIN BOBADILL
DOWN-RIGHT
WELL-BRED, _his half-brother_
KITELY, _husband to Down-right's sister_
COB, CASH, FORMAL
JUSTICE CLEMENT
DAME KITELY
BRIDGET, _Kitely's sister_
TIB, _Cob's wife_


ACT I

SCENE I. --_In_ KNOWELL'S _house. Enter_ KNOWELL, _with a letter from_
WELL-BRED _to_ YOUNG KNOWELL.

KNOWELL: This letter is directed to my son.
Yet I will break it open.
What's here? What's this?

(_Reads_) "Why, Ned, I beseech thee, hast thou forsworn all thy
friends i' the Old Jewry? Dost thou think us all Jews that inhabit
there yet? If thou dost, come over and but see our frippery. Leave thy
vigilant father alone, to number over his green apricots evening and
morning, o' the north-west wall. Prythee, come over to me quickly this
morning; I have such a present for thee! One is a rhymer, sir, o' your
own batch, but doth think himself a poet-major of the town; the other,
I will not venture his description till you come. "

Why, what unhallowed ruffian would have writ In such a scurrilous
manner to a friend! Why should he think I tell my apricots?

[_Enter_ BRAIN-WORM.

Take you this letter, and deliver it my son,
But with no notice I have opened it, on your life.

[_Exeunt. Then, enter_ YOUNG KNOWELL, _with the letter,
and_ BRAIN-WORM.

YOUNG KNOWELL: Did he open it, say'st thou?

BRAIN-WORM: Yes, o' my word, sir, and read the contents.
For he charged me on my life to tell nobody
that he opened it, which unless he had done he would
never fear to have it revealed.

[YOUNG KNOWELL _moves apart to read the letter. Enter_
STEPHEN. KNOWELL _laughs_.

STEPHEN: 'Slid, I hope he laughs not at me; an he
do----

KNOWELL: Here was a letter, indeed, to be intercepted
by a man's father! Well, if he read this with
patience---- (_Seeing_ STEPHEN) What, my wise cousin!
Nay, then, I'll furnish our feast with one gull more.
How now, Cousin Stephen--melancholy?

STEPHEN: Yes, a little. I thought you had laughed
at me, cousin.

KNOWELL: Be satisfied, gentle coz, and, I pray you,
let me entreat a courtesy of you. I am sent for this
morning by a friend in the Old Jewry: will you bear me
company?

STEPHEN: Sir, you shall command me twice as far.

KNOWELL: Now, if I can but hold him up to his
height!


SCENE II. --BOBADILL'S _room, a mean chamber, in_ COB'S _house_.
BOBADILL _lying on a bench. Enter_ MATTHEW, _ushered
in by_ TIB.

MATTHEW: 'Save you, sir; 'save you, captain.

BOBADILL: Gentle Master Matthew! Sit down, I pray
you. Master Matthew in any case, possess no gentlemen
of our acquaintance with notice of my lodging. Not
that I need to care who know it! But in regard I would
not be too popular and generally visited, as some are.

MATTHEW: True, captain, I conceive you.

BOBADILL: For do you see, sir, by the heart of valour
in me except it be to some peculiar and choice spirit like
yourself--but what new book have you there?

MATTHEW: Indeed, here are a number of fine
speeches in this book.

"O eyes, no eyes, but fountains fraught with tears"--

There's a conceit! Another:

"O life, no life but lively form of death!
O world, no world but mass of public wrongs"--

O the Muses! Is't not excellent? But when will you come to see my
study? Good faith I can show you some very good things I have done of
late. But, captain, Master Well-bred's elder brother and I are fallen
out exceedingly.

BOBADILL: Squire Down-right, the half-brother was't not? Hang him rook!
Come hither; you shall chartel him. I'll show you a trick or two you
shall kill him with, at pleasure, the first staccato, if you will, by
this air. Come, put on your cloak, and we'll go to some private place
where you are acquainted, some tavern or so. What money ha' you about
you?

MATTHEW: Faith, not past a two shillings or so.

BOBADILL: 'Tis somewhat with the least; but come, we will have a bunch
of radish and salt to taste our wine, and after we'll call upon Young
Well-bred.

[_Exeunt_.


ACT II

SCENE I. --KITELY'S _house_. KITELY _explains to_ DOWN-RIGHT _that_
WELL-BRED, _who lodges with him brings riotous companions
to the house, which makes him much troubled for his pretty
wife and sister_. BOBADILL _and_ MATTHEW _calling in search
of_ WELL-BRED, _the former insults_ DOWN-RIGHT, _and leaves
him storming_.


SCENE II. --_Moorfields_. _Enter_ BRAIN-WORM, _disguised as a maimed
soldier_.

BRAIN-WORM: The truth is, my old master intends to
follow my young master, dry-foot, over Moorfields to
London this morning. Now I, knowing of this hunting
match, or rather conspiracy, and to insinuate with my
young master, have got me before in this disguise, determining
here to lie in ambuscade. If I can but get
his cloak, his purse, his hat, anything to stay his journey,
I am made for ever, in faith. But here comes my young
master and his cousin, as I am a true counterfeit man of
war, and no soldier.

[_Enter_ YOUNG KNOWELL _and_ STEPHEN. BRAIN-WORM,
_with a cock-and-bull tale of his services in the
wars, persuades_ STEPHEN _to buy his sword as a
pure Toledo. Exeunt. Presently, enter_ OLD KNOWELL,
_and_ BRAIN-WORM _meets him_.

BRAIN-WORM (_aside_): My master! Nay, faith, have at
you; I am fleshed now, I have sped so well. Worshipful
sir, I beseech you, respect the estate of a poor soldier;
I am ashamed of this base course of life, but extremity
provokes me to it; what remedy?

KNOWELL: I have not for you now.

BRAIN-WORM: Good sir, by that hand, you may do the
part of a kind gentleman, in lending a poor soldier the
price of a can of beer; Heaven shall pay you, sweet worship!

KNOWELL: Art thou a man, and shamest not thou to beg?
To practise such a servile kind of life?
Either the wars might still supply thy wants,
Or service of some virtuous gentleman.

BRAIN-WORM: Faith, sir, I would gladly find some
other course--I know what I would say; but as for
service--my name, sir? Please you, Fitzsword, sir.

KNOWELL: Say that a man should entertain thee now,
Would'st thou be modest, humble, just, and true?

BRAIN-WORM: Sir, by the place and honour of a
soldier.

KNOWELL: Nay, nay, I like not these affected oaths.
But follow me; I'll prove thee. [_Exit. _

BRAIN-WORM: Yes, sir, straight. 'Slid, was there ever
a fox in years to betray himself thus! Now shall I be
possessed of all his counsels, and by that conduit, my
young master. [_Follows_ KNOWELL.


ACT III

SCENE I. --_A room in the Windmill Tavern. _ WELL-BRED, BOBADILL,
MATTHEW. _Enter_ YOUNG KNOWELL _with_ STEPHEN.

WELL-BRED: Ned Knowell! By my soul, welcome!
(_Lower_) Sirrah, there be the two I writ of. But what
strange piece of silence is this? The sign of the Dumb
Man?

KNOWELL: Oh, sir, a kinsman of mine; he has his
humour, sir.

STEPHEN: My name is Master Stephen, sir; I am
this gentleman's own cousin, sir; I am somewhat melancholy,
but you shall command me.

MATTHEW: Oh, it's your only fine humour, sir. Your
true melancholy breeds your perfect fine wit. I am melancholy
myself, divers times, and then I do no more but
take pen and paper presently, and overflow you half a
score or a dozen of fine sonnets at a sitting.

WELL-BRED: Captain Bobadill, why muse you so?

KNOWELL: He is melancholy, too.

BOBADILL: Why, sir, I was thinking of a most honourable
piece of service was performed at the beleaguering
of Strigonium; the first but the best leaguer that ever
I beheld with these eyes. Look you, sir, by St. George,
I was the first man that entered the breach; and had I
not effected it with resolution, I had been slain if I had
had a million of lives. Observe me judicially, sweet sir.
They had planted me three demiculvirins just in the
mouth of the breach, but I, with these single arms, my
poor rapier, ran violently upon the Moors, and put 'em
pell-mell to the sword.

[_Enter_ BRAIN-WORM, _who discloses himself apart, to_
KNOWELL _and_ Well-Bred, _and reports that_ OLD
KNOWELL _is awaiting his return at_ JUSTICE
CLEMENT'S _house. Exeunt_.


SCENE II. --_At_ KITELY'S. KITELY _has gone to_ JUSTICE CLEMENT'S;
_very anxious about his wife and sister, he has ordered_
CASH _to send him a messenger if_ WELL-BRED _comes home
with any of his boon-companions. Enter to_ CASH,
WELL-BRED, _with the party as in the last scene_.

WELL-BRED: Whither went your master, Thomas,
canst thou tell?

CASH: I know not; to Justice Clement's, I think, sir.

[_Exit. _

KNOWELL: Justice Clement! What's he?

WELL-BRED: Why, dost thou not know him? He is a
city magistrate, a justice here, an excellent good lawyer
and a great scholar; but the only mad merry old fellow
in Europe. [_Enter_ CASH.

BOBADILL: Master Kitely's man, pray thee vouchsafe
us the lighting of this match. (CASH _takes match, and
exits_) 'Tis your right, Trinidado. Did you never take
any, Master Stephen?

STEPHEN: No, truly, sir, but I'll learn to take it now,
since you commend it so.

BOBADILL: Sir, I have been in the Indies where this
herb grows; where neither myself nor a dozen gentlemen
more of my knowledge have received the taste of any
other nutriment in the world for the space of one and
twenty weeks, but the fume of this simple only. By Hercules,
I do hold it, and will affirm it, before any prince in
Europe, to be the most sovereign and precious weed that
ever the earth tendered to the use of man.

[COB _has entered meanwhile_.

COB: Mack, I marvel what pleasure they have in taking
this roguish tobacco. It's good for nothing but to
choke a man, and fill him full of smoke and embers.
And there were no wiser men than I, I'd have it present
whipping, man or woman, that should but deal with a
tobacco pipe.

[BOBADILL _cudgels him. Enter_ CASH, _who drags off the
lamenting_ COB. _While the rest are conversing_,
MATTHEW _and_ BOBADILL _slip out_.

WELL-BRED: Soft, where's Master Matthew? Gone?

BRAIN-WORM: No, sir, they went in here.

WELL-BRED: Oh, let's follow them. Master Matthew
is gone to salute his mistress in verse. We shall have the
happiness to hear some of his poetry now. He never
comes impoverished. [_Exeunt. _


SCENE III. --JUSTICE CLEMENT'S. COB _finds_ KITELY _and reports the
arrival of_ WELL-BRED'S _party_. KITELY _hurries home
in a panic. Enter_ CLEMENT _with_ OLD KNOWELL _and_ FORMAL.

CLEMENT (_to_ COB): How now, sirrah? What make
you here?

COB: A poor neighbour of your worship, come to
crave the peace of your worship; a warrant for one that
has wronged me, sir; an I die within a twelvemonth and
a day, I may swear by the law of the land that he killed
me.

CLEMENT: How, knave? What colour hast thou for
that?

COB: Both black and blue, an't please your worship;
colour enough, I warrant you. [_Baring his arm_.

CLEMENT: How began the quarrel between you?

COB: Marry indeed, an't please your worship, only
because I spake against their vagrant tobacco; for nothing
else.

CLEMENT: Ha! You speak against tobacco. Your
name?

COB: Cob, sir, Oliver Cob.

CLEMENT: Then, Oliver Cob, you shall go to jail.

COB: Oh, I beseech your worship, for heaven's sake,
dear master justice!

CLEMENT: He shall not go; I did but fear the knave.
Formal, give him his warrant. (_Exeunt_ FORMAL _and_
COB) How now, Master Knowell, in dumps? Your
cares are nothing. What! Your son is old enough to
govern himself; let him run his course.


ACT IV


SCENE I. --_At_ KITELY'S. DAME KITELY _and_ DOWN-RIGHT, _who, to his
sister's great indignation, is reproving her for admitting_
WELL-BRED'S _companions. Enter_ BRIDGET, MATTHEW, _and_
BOBADILL; WELL-BRED, STEPHEN, YOUNG KNOWELL, _and_
BRAIN-WORM _at the back_.

BRIDGET: Servant, in truth, you are too prodigal
Of your wit's treasure thus to pour it forth
Upon so mean a subject as my worth.
What is this same, I pray you?

MATTHEW: Marry, an elegy, an elegy, an odd toy.
I'll read it if you please.

[_Exit_ DOWN-RIGHT, _disgusted. The rest listen to_
MATTHEW'S _"elegy," consisting of scraps from Marlowe.
As_ DOWN-RIGHT _re-enters, fuming_, WELL-BRED
_is beginning to chaff_ MATTHEW. DOWN-RIGHT
_interrupts with an attack on the whole company, and
threatens to slit_ BOBADILL'S _ears. Swords are drawn
all round, and_ KNOWELL _is endeavouring to calm the
disturbance, when_ KITELY _enters_.

WELL-BRED: Come, let's go. This is one of my
brother's ancient humours, this.

STEPHEN: I am glad nobody was hurt by his "ancient
humour. "

[_Exeunt all but they of the house_.