The Works of Aphra Behn Volume I Part 110

_L. Lam._ Heaven! How he looks and speaks-- [To _Desbro_, aside.

_L. Des._ Oh, these Heroicks, Madam, have the most charming Tongues.

_L. Lam._ Pray come to me-- and ask for any of my Officers, and you shall have admittance--

_Lov._ Who shall I ask for, Madam? for I'm yet ignorant to whom I owe for this great Bounty.

_L. Lam._ Not know me! Thou art indeed a Stranger.

I thought I'd been so elevated above the common Crowd, it had been visible to all Eyes who I was.

_Lov._ Pardon my Ignorance.

My Soul conceives ye all that Heaven can make ye, Of Great, of Fair and Excellent; But cannot guess a Name to call you by But such as would displease ye-- My Heart begins to fail, and by her Vanity I fear she's one of the new Race of Quality: --But be she Devil, I must love that Form. [Aside.

_L. Lam._ Hard Fate of Greatness, we so highly elevated Are more expos'd to Censure than the little ones, By being forc'd to speak our Pa.s.sions first.

--Is my Coach ready?

_Page._ It waits your Honour.

_L. Lam._ I give you leave to visit me-- ask for the General's Lady, if my t.i.tle be not by that time alter'd.

_Lov._ Pistols and Daggers to my Heart-- 'tis so.

_L. Lam._ Adieu, Sir.

[Ex. all but _Lov._ who stands musing.

Enter _Freeman_.

_Free._ How now, what's the matter with thee?

_Lov._ Prithee wake me, _Freeman_.

_Free._ Wake thee!

_Lov._ I dream; by Heaven I dream; Nay, yet the lovely Phantom's in my View.

Oh! wake me, or I sleep to perfect Madness.

_Free._ What ail'st thou? what did'st dream of?

_Lov._ A strange fantastick Charmer, A thing just like a Woman Friend; It walkt and lookt with wondrous Majesty, Had Eyes that kill'd, and Graces deck'd her Face; But when she talk'd, mad as the Winds she grew, Chimera in the form of Angel, Woman!

_Free._ Who the Devil meanest thou?

_Lov._ By Heav'n I know not, but, as she vanish'd hence, she bad me come to the General's.

_Free._ Why, this is she I told thee ey'd thee so at the Conventicle; 'tis _Lambert_, the renown'd, the famous Lady _Lambert_-- Mad call'st thou her? 'tis her ill acted Greatness, thou mistak'st; thou art not us'd to the Pageantry of these Women yet: they all run thus mad; 'tis Greatness in 'em, _Loveless._

_Lov._ And is thine thus, thy Lady _Desbro_?

_Free._ She's of another Cut, she married, as most do, for Interest-- but what-- thou't to her?

_Lov._ If Lightning stop my way:-- Perhaps a sober View may make me hate her. [Exeunt both.

SCENE II. _A Chamber in _Lambert's_ House._

Enter _Lambert_ and _Whitlock_.

_Whit._ My Lord, now is your time, you may be King; Fortune is yours, you've time it self by th' Fore-lock.

_Lam._ If I thought so, I'd hold him fast, by Heaven.

_Whit._ If you let slip this Opportunity, my Lord, you are undone-- _Aut Caesar, aut Nullus._

_Lam._ But _Fleetwood_--

_Whit._ Hang him, soft Head.

_Lam._ True, he's of an easy Nature; yet if thou didst but know how little Wit governs this mighty Universe, thou wou'dst not wonder Men should set up him.

_Whit._ That will not recommend him at this _Juncto_, tho he's an excellent Tool for your Lordship to make use of; and therefore use him, Sir, as _Cataline_ did _Lentulus_; drill the dull Fool with Hopes of Empire on, and that all tends to his Advancement only: The Blockhead will believe the Crown his own: What other Hopes could make him ruin Richard, a Gentleman of Qualities a thousand times beyond him?

_Lam._ They were both too soft; an ill Commendation for a General, who should be rough as Storms of War it self.

_Whit._ His time was short, and yours is coming on; Old Oliver had his.

_Lam._ I hate the Memory of that Tyrant Oliver.

_Whit._ So do I, now he's dead, and serves my Ends no more. I lov'd the Father of the great Heroick, whilst he had Power to do me good: he failing, Reason directed me to the Party then prevailing, the f.a.g-end of the Parliament: 'tis true, I took the Oath of Allegiance, as Oliver, your Lordship, Tony, and the rest did, without which we could not have sat in that Parliament; but that Oath was not for our Advantage, and so better broke than kept.

_Lam._ I am of your Opinion, my Lord.

_Whit._ Let Honesty and Religion preach against it. But how cou'd I have serv'd the Commons by deserting the King? how have I show'd my self loyal to your Interest, by fooling Fleet-wood, in the deserting of d.i.c.k; by dissolving the honest Parliament, and bringing in the odious Rump?

how cou'd I have flatter'd Ireton, by telling him Providence brought thingsabout, when 'twas mere Knavery all; and that the Hand of the Lord was in't, when I knew the Devil was in't? or indeed, how cou'd I now advise you to be King, if I had started at Oaths, or preferr'd Honesty or Divinity before Interest and the Good Old Came?

_Lam._ Nay,'tis most certain, he that will live in this World, must be endu'd with the three rare Qualities of Dissimulation, Equivocation, and mental Reservation.

_Whit._ In which Excellency, Heav'n be prais'd, we out-do the Jesuits.

Enter Lady _Lambert_.

_L. Lam._ I'm glad to see you so well employ'd, my Lord, as in Discourse with my Lord Whitlock, he's of our Party, and has Wit.

_Whit._ Your Honour graces me too much.

_Lam._ My Lord, my Lady is an absolute States-woman.

_L. Lam._ Yes, I think things had not arriv'd to this exalted height, nor had you been in prospect of a Crown, had not my Politicks exceeded your meaner Ambition.