The Works of Aphra Behn Volume Ii Part 43

_Qu_. Ah, _Cleomena_! you value my Repose at too cheap a Rate, When you expose a Life so dear to me To so much Danger, as to fight _Thersander_.

_Cleo_. I am not the first Person of my s.e.x Has drawn a Sword upon an Enemy; Do you not say he is my Father's Murderer?

And does he not deprive me of that Crown, You say the G.o.ds have destin'd me to wear?

_Qu_. 'Tis true, he's Son to him that kill'd thy Father; But bating that, he has committed nothing But what wou'd rather cause esteem than hate.

_Cleo_. Pardon me, Madam, if I am forc'd to say, My Sentiments cannot correspond with yours.

_Qu_. What think you of a Husband in this Prince?

_Cleo_. How, Madam, marry _Thersander_!

_Qu_. The King has generously offered it; My Council do approve it, and the Army Cannot contain their Joy for the blest News.

_Cleo_. G.o.ds! let the Council and the Army perish, E'er I lose one single Moment of my Satisfaction; Is this the Hate which with my Milk you made me suck For all that Race? is this th' Effect of my fierce Education?

_Qu_. All things must be preferr'd to th' Publick Good, When join'd with my Commands.

_Cleo_. What you command, I dare not disobey: But, Madam, I beseech you do not claim That cruel Duty here.

_Qu_. You'll find it fit to change that peevish Humour, And I will leave you to consider of it.

[_Exit_.

_Cleo_. G.o.ds! marry me, marry me to _Thersander_!

No, not whilst this--remains in my Possession; [_Pulls out a dagger_.

--I must confess it is a generous Offer; How came it in their Souls?

_Sem_. Madam, perhaps Love has inspir'd it.

_Cleo_. Hah, Love--that Miracle may be; When I reflect upon the Prince's words, When he had vanquish'd me--I do not doubt it; Then he confess'd he had a Pa.s.sion for me; I wonder at the sudden Birth of it--

_Sem_. Madam, your Eyes make Captives at first sight.

_Cleo_. Oh my dear Eyes, how shall I love ye now, For wounding more than my dull Sword could do?

'Twas Anger and Revenge that gave ye Charms, Only to help the weakness of my Arms; And when my Woman's Courage feeble grew, My Heart did kindly send its Aids to you.

And thou, _Thersander_, surely canst not blame My Cruelty, who do allow thy Flame: Love on, love on; and if thou dost despise All other ways, I'll kill thee with my Eyes.

_She sits down, and writes_. _Enter_ a Page.

_Page_. Madam, there is without an Officer Who bad me tell your Highness that he waits.

_Cleo_. Admit him--and, Page, give you this Letter to the Queen.

_Sem_. Madam, it is _Vallentio_ whom you sent for.

_Enter_ Vallentio.

_Cleo_. _Vallentio_, I believe thee brave and honest.

_Val_. Madam, the last I dare affirm.

_Cleo_. Tell me, _Vallentio_, didst thou ever love?

_Val_. Madam, your Interest, my Arms, and a brave Enemy.

_Cleo_. But didst thou never feel a softer Pa.s.sion?

_Val_. Madam, I own, though with a Blush I do so, I've felt the Power of two fair Eyes; And I have Wounds that yet would bleed afresh, Should but the cruel Murderess appear.

_Cleo_. Then thou art fit to hear a Secret from me; --But first, _Vallentio_ tell me who I am.

_Val_. My Princess, Madam, and my General; And one, who from your Power of Beauty holds No less Dominion o'er th' adoring World, Than from the Greatness you were born to.

_Cleo_. And you're contented I should be your Queen?

_Val_. Madam, I am--_Pimante_ has been prating. [_Aside_.

_Cleo_. The Army too are of your mind.

_Val_. I cannot answer for the Army, Madam.

_Cleo_. But--what think you of _Orsames_?

_Val_. Madam, I think he merits to be King In any other World but where you reign.

_Cleo_. And what if I would have him King of this?

_Val_. Why then he shall be King, if you would have it so.

_Cleo_. Yes, I would have it, by my self I would; This is the time to let the Monarch know The Glories he was born to; Nor can I die in Peace till he be crown'd. [_Aside_.

I'll have this Nation happy in a Prince, A Prince they long in silence have bemoan'd, Which every slight occasion breaks out loud, And soon will raise them up to a Rebellion, The common People's G.o.d on Holy-days.

--And this, _Vallentio_, I have often observ'd; And 'tis an Act too humble for my Soul, To court my self into security.

_Sem_. Madam, the G.o.ds do disapprove his Reign, Which they not only say shall be but short, But b.l.o.o.d.y and Tyrannick.

_Cleo_. I will expound that Oracle, Which Priests unridling make more intricate: They said that he should reign, and so he did, Which lasted not above a pair of Hours.

But I my self will be his Oracle now, And speak his kinder Fate, And I will have no other Priest but thee, [_To_ Vallentio.

Who shall unfold the Mystery in plain terms.

_Val_. Madam, the City and the Army are, by this Defeat, Enough inclin'd to hear that Reason.

_Cleo_. _Geron_ already has Instructions what to do, And you need none, wanting no Resolution.

_Val_. If I miscarry, Madam, I'll be condemn'd, Never to look my Foe i'th' Face again.

_Cleo_. Haste, and be prosperous--

[_Exit_. Val.