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The Works of Aphra Behn Volume I Part 78

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_Silv._ I am not-- well--

_Cleo._ Sleep, Sir, will give you ease.

_Silv._ I cannot sleep, my Wounds do rage and burn so, as they put me past all power of rest.

_Cleo._ We'll call your Surgeon, Sir.

_Silv._ He can contribute nothing to my Cure, But I must owe it all to thee, _Cleonte_.



_Cleo._ Instruct me in the way, give me your Arm, And I will bathe it in a thousand Tears, [Goes to untie his Arm.

And breathe so many Sighs into your Wound--

_Silv._ Let that slight hurt alone, and search this-- here.

[To his Heart.

_Cleo._ How! are you wounded there, And would not let us know it all this while?

_Silv._ I durst not tell you, but design'd to suffer, Rather than trouble you with my Complaints: But now my Pain is greater than my Courage.

_Fran._ Oh, he will tell her, that he loves her sure. [Aside.

_Cleo._ Sit down and let me see't.

[He sits down, she puts her Hand into his Bosom.

_Fran._ Oh foolish Innocence-- [Aside.

_Cleo._ You have deceiv'd me, Brother, here's no Wound.

_Silv._ Oh take away your Hand-- It does increase my Pain, and wounds me deeper.

_Cleo._ No, surely, Sir, my Hand is very gentle.

_Silv._ Therefore it hurts me, Sister; the very thoughts Of Touches by so soft and fair a Hand, Playing about my Heart, are not to be indur'd with Life.

[Rises in pa.s.sion.

_Cleo._ Alas, what means my Brother?

_Silv._ Can you not guess, fair Sister? have my Eyes So ill exprest my Soul? or has your Innocence Not suffer'd you to understand my Sighs?

Have then a thousand Tales, which I have told you, Of Broken Hearts, and Lovers Languishments, Not serv'd to tell you, that I did adore you?

_Cleo._ Oh let me still remain in Innocence, Rather than sin so much to understand you.

_Fran._ I can endure no more-- [Goes out.

_Silv._ Can you believe it Sin to love a Brother? it is not so in Nature.

_Cleo._ Not as a Brother, Sir; but otherwise, It is, by all the Laws of Men and Heaven.

_Silv._ Sister, so 'tis that we should do no Murder, And yet you daily kill, and I, among the number Of your Victims, must charge you with the sin Of killing me, a Lover, and a Brother.

_Cleo._ What wou'd you have me do?

_Silv._ Why-- I would have thee-- do-- I know not what-- Still to be with me-- yet that will not satisfy; To let me look-- upon thee-- still that's not enough.

I dare not say to kiss thee, and imbrace thee; That were to make me wish-- I dare not tell thee what--

_Cleo._ I must not hear this Language from a Brother.

[She offers to go.

_Silv._ What a vile thing's a Brother?

Stay, take this Dagger, and add one Wound more [He kneels and offers her a Dagger, and holds her by the Coat.

To those your Eyes have given, and after that You'll find no trouble from my Sighs and Tears.

Enter _Francisca_.

_Fran._ By this she understands him, curse on her Innocence, 'Tis fuel to his flame-- [Aside.] Madam, there is below a Lady, who desires to speak with the Mistress of the House.

_Cleo._ At this hour a Lady! who can it be?

_Fran._ I know not, but she seems of Quality.

_Cleo._ Is she alone?

_Fran._ Attended by a Gentleman and an old Woman.

_Cleo._ Perhaps some one that needs a kind a.s.sistance; my Father is in Bed, and I'll venture to know their Business; bring her up.

_Fran._ 'Twere good you should retire, Sir.

[To _Silvio_, and Exit.

_Silv._ I will, but have a care of me, _Cleonte_, I fear I shall grow mad, and so undo thee: Love me-- but do not let me know't too much. [Goes out.

Enter _Francisca_ with Lights; follow'd by _Alonzo_, _Clarinda_, and _Dormida_: _Alonzo_ gazes on _Cleonte_ a while.

_Cleo._ Is't me you would command?

_Clar._ I know not what to say, I am so disorder'd. [Aside.

_Alon._ What Troops of Beauties she has! sufficient to take whole Cities in-- Madam, I beg-- [Takes _Clarinda_ by the Hand, and approaches _Cleonte_.

_Cleo._ What, Sir?

_Alon._ That you would receive into Protection--

_Cleo._ What pray, Sir?

_Alon._ Would you would give me leave to say, a Heart That your fair Eyes have lately made unfit For its old Quarters.

_Cleo._ I rather think you mean this Lady, Sir.

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The Works of Aphra Behn Volume I Part 78 summary

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