The Works of Aphra Behn Volume Iv Part 111

_Mir._ Think not the mighty Present of your Jewels, enough to purchase Provinces, has bought one single Sigh, or Wish: No, my dear Prince, you owe 'em all to Love, and your own Charms.

_Geo._ Oh, d.a.m.n'd, dissembling Jilt! [Aside.

_Prince._ No more, no more, my Soul's opprest with Joy: let me unload it in thy tender Arms, and sigh it out into thy ravishing Bosom.

_Geo._ Death, and d.a.m.nation!--

I shall forget his Quality and Virtue, forget he was my Friend, or sav'd this Life; and like a River, swell'd with angry Tides, o'erflow those Banks that made the Stream so gay.

_Mir._ Who's there?--I heard a Voice--_Manage_?

_Geo._ Yes. [Softly.

_Prince._ Approach, thou Confident of all my Joys; approach, and be rewarded-- [_Prince_ takes his Jewel from his Hat.

_Geo._ Yes, for my excellent Bauding--By Heav'n, I dare not touch his princely Person.

_Prince._ Where art thou? take this Jewel and retire.

[Gropes for his Hand, gives it him.

_Geo._ E'en my Misfortunes have a sort of Luck; but I'll withdraw, for fear this Devil about me shou'd raise my too rash Hand against his Life.

[Exit.

_Prince._ Come, my eternal Pleasure--each Moment of the happy Lover's Hour, is worth an Age of dull, and common Life.

[Exeunt into the Alcove, the Scene shuts.

SCENE III. A Garden by Night still.

Enter _George_ with his Sword in his Hand, as before.

_Geo._ Why do I vainly call for Vengeance down, and have it in my Hand?--By Heav'n, I'll back--Whither? To kill a Woman, a young perjur'd Woman!--Oh, ye false Fair Ones! shou'd we do you Justice, a universal Ruin wou'd ensue; not one wou'd live to stock the World anew. Who is't among ye All, ye Fair Deceivers, ye charming Mischiefs to the n.o.ble Race, can swear she's Innocent, without d.a.m.nation? No, no, go on--be false--be fickle still: You act but Nature--But, my faithless Friend--where I repose the secrets of my Soul--except this one--Alas! he knew not this:--Why do I blame him then?

Enter _Olivia_, dress'd as before.

_Oliv._ Fire! Fire! Fire!

_Geo._ _Olivia's_ Voice!--Ha! what art thou? Thy Voice shou'd be _Olivia's_, but thy Shape--and yet a Woman is all o'er Disguise.

Enter Lady _Blunder_ in her Night-Gown.

L. _Blun._ Fire! Fire! Fire! My Son, my dear Sir _Morgan._

Enter Sir _Rowland_, and Servants.

Sir _Row._ A Pox on your Son, and mine to boot; they have set all the Sack-b.u.t.ts a Flaming in the Cellar, thence the Mischief began.

_Timothy_, _Roger_, _Jeffrey_, my Money-Trunks, ye Rogues! my money-Trunks!

L. _Blun._ My Son, good _Roger_! my own Sir _Moggy_!

Sir _Row._ The ten thousand Pounds, ye Rascal, in the Iron Trunk, that was to be paid Mr. _Welborn_ for _Olivia's_ Portion.

[Exit.

L. _Blun._ Oh my Son! my Son!--run to the Parson, _Sam_, and let him send the Church-Buckets. Oh, some help! some help!

Enter _Manage_.

_Man._ Oh, Heavens! my Lady _Mirtilla's_ Chamber's all on Flame.

Enter _Britton_.

_Geo._ Ha,--the Prince! I had forgot his Danger.

_Man._ Ah! look up, and see how it burns.

_Geo._ _Britton_, a Million for a Ladder!

_Man._ Blessing on you, Sir, if you dare venture through the House; there lies one in the Fore-Garden.

_Britt._ The Pa.s.sage is on fire, Sir, you cannot go.

_Geo._ Revenge is vanish'd, and Love takes its place: Soft Love, and mightier Friendship seizes all. I'll save him, though I perish in the Attempt.

[Runs out, _Britton_ after him.

Enter at another Door, Sir _Rowland_.

L. _Blun._ A thousand Pound for him that saves Sir _Morgan_!

Sir _Row._ And, do ye hear, let my Rogue lie; I'd rather he should be burnt, than hang'd on _Tyburn_ Road, for murdering his Father.--But where's Boy _George_?

Enter Men with Trunks.

_Rog._ Safe, Sir, I hope; he was not in the House.

Sir _Row._ So, so, away with these Trunks to my Lady _Youthly's_ in _Southampton_-Square, and tell her we must trouble her to night. Come, Sister, let's away.

[Ex. Lady _Blunder_, and Sir _Rowland_.

Prince _Frederick_ and _Mirtilla_, appear at the Window, the Flame behind 'em.

_Prince._ Help, help, and save _Mirtilla_! Ask any Price, my Life, my Fortune! All!

_Mir._ Oh, Heav'ns, the Flame pursues us as we fly.

_Prince._ No help! Oh G.o.ds, I shall prevent the Flame, and perish by my Fears to see you die!

_Mir._ Alas! Sir, you with ease may save your Life! This Window you may leap, but I want Courage.