No More Learning

Well, do you find jest, and I'll find laugh, I promise you.
We'll wait for the chariot in the next room.

[_Exeunt. _

_Enter_ LEONTINE _and_ OLIVIA.

LEONT. There they go, thoughtless and happy. My dearest Olivia, what
would I give to see you capable of sharing in their amusements, and as
cheerful as they are!

OLIVIA. How, my Leontine, how can I be cheerful, when I have so many
terrors to oppress me? The fear of being detected by this family, and
the apprehensions of a censuring world, when I must be detected——

LEONT. The world! my love, what can it say? At worst, it can only say
that, being compelled by a mercenary guardian to embrace a life you
disliked, you formed a resolution of flying with the man of your
choice; that you confided in his honour, and took refuge in my father's
house; the only one where yours could remain without censure.

[Illustration:

"CROAKER. —_Well, and you have both of
you a mutual choice. _"—_p. _ 279.
]


OLIVIA. But consider, Leontine, your disobedience and my indiscretion:
your being sent to France to bring home a sister; and, instead of a
sister, bringing home——

LEONT. One dearer than a thousand sisters; one that I am convinced will
be equally dear to the rest of the family, when she comes to be known.

OLIVIA. And that I fear, will shortly be.

LEONT. Impossible till we ourselves think proper to make the discovery.
My sister, you know, has been with her aunt, at Lyons, since she was a
child; and you find every creature in the family takes you for her.

OLIVIA. But mayn't she write? mayn't her aunt write?

LEONT. Her aunt scarce ever writes, and all my sister's letters are
directed to me.

OLIVIA. But won't your refusing Miss Richland, for whom you know the
old gentleman intends you, create a suspicion?

LEONT. There, there's my masterstroke. I have resolved not to refuse
her; nay, an hour hence I have consented to go with my father, to make
her an offer of my heart and fortune.

OLIVIA. Your heart and fortune!

LEONT. Don't be alarmed, my dearest. Can Olivia think so meanly of my
honour, or my love, as to suppose I could ever hope for happiness from
any but her? No, my Olivia, neither the force, nor permit me to add,
the delicacy of my passion, leave any room to suspect me. I only offer
Miss Richland a heart, I am convinced she will refuse; as I am
confident, that without knowing it, her affections are fixed upon Mr.
Honeywood.

OLIVIA. Mr. Honeywood! You'll excuse my apprehensions; but when your
merits come to be put in the balance—

LEONT. You view them with too much partiality. However, by making this
offer, I show a seeming compliance with my father's commands; and
perhaps, upon her refusal, I may have his consent to choose for myself.

OLIVIA. Well, I submit. And, yet my Leontine, I own, I shall envy her,
even your pretended addresses. I consider every look, every expression
of your esteem, as due only to me. This is folly, perhaps: I allow it;
but it is natural to suppose, that merit which has made an impression
on one's own heart, may be powerful over that of another.

LEONT. Don't, my life's treasure, don't let us make imaginary evils,
when you know we have so many real ones to encounter. At worst, you
know, if Miss Richland should consent, or my father refuse his pardon,
it can but end in a trip to Scotland; and——

_Enter_ CROAKER.

CROAKER. Where have you been, boy? I have been seeking you. My friend
Honeywood here has been saying such comfortable things. Ah! he's an
example indeed. Where is he? I left him here.

LEONT. Sir, I believe you may see him, and hear him too, in the next
room: he's preparing to go out with the ladies.

CROAKER. Good gracious, can I believe my eyes or my ears? I'm struck
dumb with his vivacity, and stunned with the loudness of his laugh. Was
there ever such a transformation? (_A laugh behind the scenes_; CROAKER
_mimics it_. ) Ha! ha! ha! there it goes: a plague take their
balderdash; yet I could expect nothing less, when my precious wife was
of the party. On my conscience, I believe she could spread a
horse-laugh through the pews of a tabernacle.

LEONT. Since you find so many objections to a wife, sir, how can you be
so earnest in recommending one to me?

CROAKER. I have told you, and tell you again, boy, that Miss Richland's
fortune must not go out of the family; one may find comfort in the
money, whatever one does in the wife.

LEONT. But, sir, though in obedience to your desire, I am ready to
marry her; it may be possible, she has no inclination to me.

CROAKER. I'll tell you once for all how it stands. A good part of Miss
Richland's large fortune consists in a claim upon government, which my
good friend, Mr. Lofty, assures me the treasury will allow. One half of
this she is to forfeit, by her father's will, in case she refuses to
marry you. So if she rejects you, we seize half her fortune; if she
accepts you, we seize the whole, and a fine girl into the bargain.

LEONT. But, sir, if you will but listen to reason—

CROAKER. Come, then produce your reasons. I tell you I'm fixed,
determined, so now produce your reasons. When I'm determined I always
listen to reason, because it can then do no harm.

LEONT. You have alleged that a mutual choice was the first requisite in
matrimonial happiness—

CROAKER. Well, and you have both of you a mutual choice. She has her
choice—to marry you, or lose half her fortune; and you have your
choice—to marry her, or pack out of doors without any fortune at all.

LEONT. An only son, sir, might expect more indulgence.

CROAKER. An only father, sir, might expect more obedience; besides, has
not your sister here, that never disobliged me in her life, as good a
right as you? He's a sad dog, Livy my dear, and would take all from
you. But he shan't, I tell you he shan't, for you shall have your
share.

OLIVIA. Dear sir, I wish you'd be convinced that I can never be happy
in any addition to my fortune, which is taken from his.

CROAKER. Well, well, it's a good child; so say no more, but come with
me, and we shall see something that will give us a great deal of
pleasure, I promise you; old Ruggins, the currycomb maker, lying in
state: I'm told he makes a very handsome corpse, and becomes his coffin
prodigiously. He was an intimate friend of mine, and these are friendly
things we ought to do for each other.

[_Exeunt. _

ACT II.


SCENE. —CROAKER'S _house_.

MISS RICHLAND, GARNET.

MISS RICH. Olivia not his sister? Olivia not Leontine's sister? You
amaze me!

GARNET. No more his sister than I am; I had it all from his own
servant; I can get anything from that quarter.

MISS RICH. But how? Tell me again, Garnet.

GARNET. Why madam, as I told you before, instead of going to Lyons to
bring home his sister, who has been there with her aunt these ten years
he never went further than Paris; there he saw and fell in love with
this young lady: by the bye, of a prodigious family.

MISS RICH. And brought her home to my guardian, as his daughter.

GARNET. Yes, and daughter she will be. If he don't consent to their
marriage, they talk of trying what a Scotch parson can do.

MISS RICH. Well, I own they have deceived me—And so demurely as Olivia
carried it too! —Would you believe it, Garnet, I told her all my
secrets; and yet the sly cheat concealed all this from me?

GARNET. And, upon my word, madam, I don't much blame her; she was loth
to trust one with her secrets, that was so very bad at keeping her own.

MISS RICH. But, to add to their deceit, the young gentleman, it seems,
pretends to make me serious proposals. My guardian and he are to be
here presently, to open the affair in form. You know I am to lose half
my fortune if I refuse him.

GARNET. Yet what can you do? for being, as you are, in love with Mr.
Honeywood, madam—

MISS RICH. How, idiot! what do you mean? In love with Mr. Honeywood! Is
this to provoke me?

GARNET. That is, madam, in friendship with him; I meant nothing more
than friendship, as I hope to be married; nothing more.

MISS RICH. Well, no more of this. As to my guardian and his son, they
shall find me prepared to receive them; I'm resolved to accept their
proposal with seeming pleasure, to mortify them by compliance, and so
throw the refusal at last upon them.

GARNET. Delicious! and that will secure your whole fortune to yourself.
Well, who could have thought so innocent a face could cover so much
cuteness?

MISS RICH. Why, girl, I only oppose my prudence to their cunning, and
practise a lesson they have taught me against themselves.

GARNET. Then you're likely not long to want employment; for here they
come, and in close conference.

_Enter_ CROAKER, LEONTINE.

LEONT. Excuse me, sir, if I seem to hesitate upon the point of putting
to the lady so important a question.

CROAKER. Lord, good sir! moderate your fears; you're so plaguy shy,
that one would think you had changed sexes. I tell you, we must have
the half or the whole. Come, let me see with what spirit you begin.
Well, why don't you? Eh? What? Well then—I must, it seems. Miss
Richland, my dear, I believe you guess at our business; an affair which
my son here comes to open, that nearly concerns your happiness.

MISS RICH. Sir, I should be ungrateful not to be pleased with anything
that comes recommended by you.

CROAKER. How, boy, could you desire a finer opportunity? Why don't you
begin, I say?

[_To_ LEONT.

LEONT. 'Tis true, madam, my father, madam, has some intentions—hem—of
explaining an affair—which—himself—can best explain, madam.

CROAKER. Yes, my dear; it comes entirely from my son; it's all a
request of his own, madam. And I will permit him to make the best of
it.

LEONT. The whole affair is only this, madam; my father has a proposal
to make, which he insists none but himself shall deliver.

CROAKER. My mind misgives me, the fellow will never be brought on.
(_Aside. _) In short, madam, you see before you one that loves you; one
whose whole happiness is all in you.

MISS RICH. I never had any doubts of your regard, sir; and I hope you
can have none of my duty.

[Illustration:

GARNET. —"_For being, as you are,
in love with Mr. Honeywood, madam. _"—_p. _ 280.
]


CROAKER. That's not the thing, my little sweeting, my love.
No, no,
another-guess lover than I, there he stands, madam; his very looks
declare the force of his passion—Call up a look, you dog—But then, had
you seen him, as I have, weeping, speaking soliloquies and blank verse,
sometimes melancholy, and sometimes absent—

MISS RICH. I fear, sir, he's absent now; or such a declaration would
have come most properly from himself.

CROAKER. Himself, madam! He would die before he could make such a
confession; and if he had not a channel for his passion through me, it
would ere now have drowned his understanding.

MISS RICH. I must grant, sir, there are attractions in modest
diffidence, above the force of words. A silent address is the genuine
eloquence of sincerity.

CROAKER. Madam, he has forgot to speak any other language; silence is
become his mother-tongue.

MISS RICH. And it must be confessed, sir, it speaks very powerful in
his favour. And yet, I shall be thought too forward in making such a
confession; shan't I, Mr. Leontine?

LEONT. Confusion! my reserve will undo me. But, if modesty attracts
her, impudence may disgust her. I'll try. (_Aside. _) Don't imagine from
my silence, madam, that I want a due sense of the honour and happiness
intended me. My father, madam, tells me, your humble servant is not
totally indifferent to you. He admires you; I adore you; and when we
come together, upon my soul I believe we shall be the happiest couple
in all St. James's.

MISS RICH. If I could flatter myself, you thought as you speak, sir—

LEONT. Doubt my sincerity, madam? By your dear self I swear. Ask the
brave if they desire glory, ask cowards if they covet safety—

CROAKER. Well, well, no more questions about it.

LEONT. Ask the sick if they long for health, ask misers if they love
money, ask—

CROAKER. Ask a fool if he can talk nonsense! What's come over the boy?
What signifies asking, when there's not a soul to give you an answer?
If you would ask to the purpose, ask this lady's consent to make you
happy.

MISS RICH. Why indeed, sir, his uncommon ardour almost compels me,
forces me, to comply, And yet I am afraid he'll despise a conquest
gained with too much ease; won't you Mr. Leontine?

LEONT. Confusion! (_Aside. _) O, by no means, madam, by no means. And
yet, madam, you talked of force. There is nothing I would avoid so much
as compulsion in a thing of this kind. No, madam; I will still be
generous, and leave you at liberty to refuse.

CROAKER. But I tell you, sir, the lady is not at liberty. It's a match.
You see she says nothing. Silence gives consent.

LEONT. But, sir, she talked of force. Consider, sir, the cruelty of
constraining her inclinations.

CROAKER. But I say there's no cruelty. Don't you know, blockhead, that
girls have always a round-about way of saying Yes before company? So
get you both gone together into the next room, and hang him that
interrupts the tender explanation. Get you gone, I say; I'll not hear a
word.

LEONT. But, sir, I must beg leave to insist—

CROAKER. Get off, you puppy, or I'll beg leave to insist upon knocking
you down. Stupid whelp! But I don't wonder; the boy takes entirely
after his mother.

[_Exeunt_ MISS RICH. _and_ LEONT.

_Enter_ MRS. CROAKER.

MRS. CROAKER. Mr. Croaker, I bring you something, my dear, that I
believe will make you smile.

CROAKER. I'll hold you a guinea of that, my dear.

MRS. CROAKER. A letter; and, as I knew the hand, I ventured to open it.

CROAKER. And how can you expect your breaking open my letters should
give me pleasure?

MRS. CROAKER. Pooh, it's from your sister at Lyons, and contains good
news: read it.

[Illustration:

LEONT. —"_But, if modesty attracts her,
impudence may disgust her. I'll try. _"—_p. _ 282.
]


CROAKER. What a Frenchified cover is here! That sister of mine has some
good qualities, but I could never teach her to fold a letter.

MRS. CROAKER. Fold a fiddlestick! Read what it contains.

CROAKER. (_reading. _) "Dear Nick,—An English gentleman, of large
fortune, has for some time made private, though honourable, proposals
to your daughter Olivia. They love each other tenderly, and I find she
has consented, without letting any of the family know, to crown his
addresses. As such good offers don't come every day, your own good
sense, his large fortune, and family considerations, will induce you to
forgive her. —Yours ever, Rachel Croaker. " My daughter Olivia privately
contracted to a man of large fortune! This is good news indeed. My
heart never foretold me of this. And yet, how slily the little baggage
has carried it since she came home! Not a word on't to the old ones,
for the world! Yet I thought I saw something she wanted to conceal.

MRS. CROAKER. Well, if they have concealed their amour, they shan't
conceal their wedding; that shall be public, I'm resolved.

CROAKER. I tell thee, woman, the wedding is the most foolish part of
the ceremony. I can never get this woman to think of the more serious
part of the nuptial engagement.

MRS. CROAKER. What, would you have me think of their funeral? But come,
tell me, my dear, don't you owe more to me than you care to confess?
Would you have ever been known to Mr. Lofty, who has undertaken Miss
Richland's claim at the Treasury, but for me? Who was it first made him
an acquaintance at Lady Shabbaroon's rout? Who got him to promise us
his interest? Is not he a back-stairs favourite, one that can do what
he pleases with those that do what they please? Isn't he an
acquaintance that all your groaning and lamentations could never have
got us?

CROAKER. He is a man of importance, I grant you; and yet, what amazes
me is, that while he is giving away places to all the world, he can't
get one for himself.

MRS. CROAKER. That perhaps may be owing to his nicety. Great men are
not easily satisfied.

_Enter_ FRENCH SERVANT.

SERVANT. An expresse from Monsieur Lofty. He vil be vait upon your
honours instamment. He be only giving four five instruction, read two
tree memorial, call upon von ambassadeur. He vil be vid you in one tree
minutes.

MRS. CROAKER. You see now, my dear, what an extensive department. Well,
friend, let your master know, that we are extremely honoured by this
honour. Was there any thing ever in a higher style of breeding? All
messages among the great are now done by express.

CROAKER. To be sure, no man does little things with more solemnity, or
claims more respect, than he. But he's in the right on't. In our bad
world, respect is given where respect is claimed.

MRS. CROAKER. Never mind the world, my dear; you were never in a
pleasanter place in your life. Let us now think of receiving him with
proper respect: (_a loud rapping at the door_) and there he is, by the
thundering rap.

CROAKER. Ay, verily, there he is; as close upon the heels of his own
express, as an endorsement upon the back of a bill. Well, I'll leave
you to receive him, whilst I go to chide my little Olivia for intending
to steal a marriage without mine or her aunt's consent. I must seem to
be angry, or she too may begin to despise my authority.

[_Exit. _

_Enter_ LOFTY, _speaking to his_ SERVANT.

LOFTY. And if the Venetian ambassador, or that teazing creature the
marquis, should call, I'm not at home. Dam'me, I'll be packhorse to
none of them. My dear madam, I have just snatched a moment—and if the
expresses to his grace be ready, let them be sent off; they're of
importance. Madam, I ask a thousand pardons.

MRS. CROAKER. Sir, this honour—

LOFTY. And, Dubardieu, if the person calls about the commission, let
him know that it is made out. As for Lord Cumbercourt's stale request;
it can keep cold: you understand me. Madam, I ask ten thousand pardons.

MRS. CROAKER. Sir, this honour—

LOFTY. And, Dubardieu, if the man comes from the Cornish borough, you
must do him; you must do him, I say. Madam, I ask ten thousand pardons.
And if the Russian ambassador calls; but he will scarce call to-day, I
believe. And now, madam, I have just got time to express my happiness
in having the honour of being permitted to profess myself your most
obedient humble servant.

MRS. CROAKER. Sir, the happiness and honour are all mine: and yet I'm
only robbing the public while I detain you.

LOFTY. Sink the public, madam, when the fair are to be attended. Ah,
could all my hours be so charmingly devoted! Sincerely, don't you pity
us poor creatures in affairs? Thus it is eternally; solicited for
places here, teazed for pensions there, and courted everywhere. I know
you pity me. Yes, I see you do.

MRS. CROAKER. Excuse me, sir; "Toils of empires pleasures are," as
Waller says.

LOFTY. Waller, Waller; is he of the house?

MRS. CROAKER. The modern poet of that name, sir.

LOFTY. Oh, a modern! We men of business despise the moderns; and as for
the ancients, we have no time to read them. Poetry is a pretty thing
enough for our wives and daughters; but not for us. Why now, here I
stand that know nothing of books; I say, madam, I know nothing of
books; and yet, I believe, upon a land carriage fishery, a stamp act,
or a jaghire, I can talk my two hours without feeling the want of them.

MRS. CROAKER. The world is no stranger to Mr. Lofty's eminence in every
capacity.

LOFTY. I vow to gad, madam, you make me blush.