The Works of Aphra Behn Volume I Part 73

_Euph._ Sure he is real. [Aside.

Alas! I am discover'd; how came my Veil off?

[She pretends to recover, and wonder that her Veil is off.

_Alon._ That you have let me see that lovely Face, May move your Pity, not your Anger, Madam; Pity the Wounds 't has made, pity the Slave, Who till this Moment boasted of his Freedom.

_Euph._ May I believe all this? for that we easily do in things we wish.

_Alon._ Command me things impossible to all Sense but a Lover's, I will do't: to shew The Truth of this, I could even give you The last Proof of it, and take you at your Word, To marry you.

_Euph._ O wondrous Reformation! marry me! [Laughs.

_Alon._ How, do you mock my Grief?

_Euph._ What a strange dissembling thing is Man! To put me off too, you were to be married.

_Alon._ Hah, I had forgotten _Hippolyta_. [He starts.

_Euph._ See, _Olinda_, the Miracle increases, he can be serious too. How do you, Sir?

_Alon._ 'Tis you have robb'd me of my native Humour, I ne'er could think till now.

_Euph._ And to what purpose was it now?

_Alon._ Why, Love and Honour were at odds within me, And I was making Peace between them.

_Euph._ How fell that out, Sir?

_Alon._ About a Pair of Beauties; Women, That set the whole World at odds.

She that is Honour's Choice I never saw, And love has taught me new Obedience here.

_Euph._ What means he? I fear he is in earnest. [Aside.

_Olin._ 'Tis nothing but his Aversion to Marriage, which most young Men dread now-a-days.

_Euph._ I must have this Stranger, or I must die; for whatever Face I put upon't, I am far gone in Love, but I must hide it.

[Aside.

Well, since I have mist my Aim, you shall never boast my Death; I'll cast my self away upon the next handsom young Fellow I meet, tho I die for't; and so farewel to you, loving Sir.

[Offers to go.

_Alon._ Stay, do not marry, as you esteem the Life of him that shall possess you.

_Euph._ Sure you will not kill him.

_Alon._ By Heaven, I will.

_Euph._ O I'll trust you, Sir: Farewel, farewel.

_Alon._ You shall not go in triumph thus, Unless you take me with you.

_Euph._ Well, since you are so resolv'd (and so in love) I'll give you leave to see me once more at a House at the Corner of St. _Jerom's_, where this Maid shall give you Entrance.

_Alon._ Why, that's generously said.

_Euph._ As soon 'tis dark you may venture.

_Alon._ Till then will be an Age, farewel, fair Saint, To thee and all my quiet till we meet. [Exeunt.

ACT II.

SCENE I. _The Street._

Enter _Marcel_ in a Cloak alone.

_Mar._ The Night comes on, and offers me two Pleasures, The least of which would make another blest, Love and Revenge: but I, whilst I dispute Which Happiness to chuse, neglect them both.

The greatest Bliss that Mankind can possess, Persuades me this way, to my fair _Clarinda:_ But tyrannick Honour Presents the Credit of my House before me, And bids me first redeem its fading Glory, By sacrificing that false Woman's Heart That has undone its Fame.

But stay, Oh Conscience, when I look within, And lay my Anger by, I find that Sin Which I would punish in _Antonio's_ Soul, Lie nourish'd up in mine without Controul.

To fair _Clarinda_ such a Siege I lay, As did that Traitor to _Hippolyta_; Only _Hippolyta_ a Brother has, _Clarinda_, none to punish her Disgrace: And 'tis more Glory the defenc'd to win, Than 'tis to take unguarded Virtue in.

I either must my shameful Love resign, Or my more brave and just Revenge decline.

[Enter _Alonzo_ drest, with _Lovis_. _Marcel_ stays.

_Alon._ But to be thus in love, is't not a Wonder, _Lovis_?

_Lov._ No, Sir, it had been much a greater, if you had stay'd a Night in Town without being so; and I shall see this Wonder as often as you see a new Face of a pretty Woman.

_Alon._ I do not say that I shall lose all Pa.s.sion for the fair s.e.x hereafter; but on my Conscience, this amiable Stranger has given me a deeper Wound than ever I received from any before.

_Lov._ Well, you remember the Bargain.

_Alon._ What Bargain?

_Lov._ To communicate; you understand.

_Alon._ There's the Devil on't, she is not such a Prize: Oh, were she not honest, Friend!

[Hugs him.

_Lov._ Is it so to do? What, you pretend to be a Lover, and she honest, now only to deprive me of my Part: remember this, _Alonzo_.

_Mar._ Did not I hear _Alonzo_ nam'd? [Aside.

_Alon._ By all that's good I am in earnest, Friend; Nay thy own Eyes shall convince thee Of the Power of hers.

Her Veil fell off, and she appear'd to me, Like unexpected Day, from out a Cloud; The lost benighted Traveller Sees not th' Approach of the next Morning's Sun With more transported Joy, Than I this ravishing and unknown Beauty.

_Lov._ Hey day! What Stuff's here? Nay, now I see thou art quite gone indeed.