The Works of Aphra Behn Volume I Part 92

_Hip._ I am a Stranger and a Gentleman, And have an humble Suit to you.

_Alon._ You may command me any thing.

_Hip._ Sir, there is a Gentleman, if I may call him so, that dares do ill; has put a base Affront upon a Lady-- a Lady whom all brave Men are bound to vindicate: I've writ him here a Challenge, and only beg you'll give it him; I will attend you in St. _Peter's_ Grove, where I desire the perfidious _Antonio_ (for that's his Name, to whom this is directed) to meet me.

_Alon._ I'm pleas'd to see this Gallantry in a Man so young, and will serve you in this, or whatever else you shall command. But where is this _Antonio_?

_Hip._ That I'll inquire of these. Sir, pray can you give any account of the Cavalier [To _Haunce_, who starts as afraid.] you fought with this Morning in St. _Peter's_ Grove, that had a Lady with him?

_Hau._ So, now perhaps I shall be hang'd for that. [Aside.

I fight, Sir! I never fought in my Life, nor saw no Man, not I.

_Gload._ 'Sha, you may confess it, Sir; there's no Law against killing in _Spain_.

_Hip._ How, have you murder'd him? [Takes hold of him.

_Hau._ This Rogue has a mind to have me dispatch'd. [Aside.

Hold, Sir, the Man's as well and alive as you are, and is now at my Lodgings: look ye, here's the Dagger I disarm'd him of-- but that I do not love to boast.

[Shews it.

_Hip._ It is the same.

_Alon._ Sir, I shall not fail to wait on you with the Answer I receive.

_Hip._ I humbly thank you, Sir.

_Alon._ So prithee, dear _Lovis_, go make my excuse to your Sister for a moment, and let her get all things ready against I come; let the Priest too wait, for I see my Destiny, which I can no longer prevent, draws on apace.

[Exit _Lovis_.

Come, Sir, you must conduct me to _Antonio_.

[Exeunt _Alonzo_, _Haunce_, and _Gload_.

_Hip._ So now the Work's half done, that will redeem All the lost Credit of our Family.

To kill, or to be kill'd, I care not which, [Weeps.

So one or both expire; be strong, my Soul, And let no feeble Woman dwell about thee.

Hence Fears and Pity, such poor things as these Cannot the Storms of my Revenge appease: Those Showers must from his treacherous Heart proceed, If I can live and see _Antonio_ bleed. [Sighs, and Exit.

SCENE III. _A deep Grove._

Enter _Marcel_ alone.

_Mar._ The hour is almost come which I appointed, And yet no _Silvio_ appears, the time seems long to me; But he that's circled in his Mistress' Arms, Forgets the hasty hours, And pa.s.ses them as unregarded by, As Men do Beggars who demand a Charity.

Enter _Hippolyta_.

Young Man, hast thou encounter'd none within this Grove?

_Hip._ Not any, Sir,-- _Marcel_! my injur'd Brother!

_Mar._ Why dost thou turn away, and hide thy Face?

_Hip._ 'Tis not my Face I hide, but Sorrow there. [Weeps.

_Mar._ Trust me, thou weepest; would I could do so too, That I might be less angry; And Silence best expresses Grief: But thine's a saucy Sorrow dares approach A Face so fair and young.

_Hip._ If the Ingrate for whom I grieve had thought so, I might have spar'd my Tears. Farewel, Sir.

_Mar._ Stay, hast thou been a Lover?

_Hip._ A very, very pa.s.sionate one.

_Mar._ And wert thou not belov'd?

_Hip._ At first, to draw me in, the cunning Artist Made me believe I was.

_Mar._ Oh! I could kiss thee now, for the alliance Between thy Grief and mine.

Hadst thou a loose and wanton Sister too, Then thou wert perfect wretched, as I am. [Weeps.

But prithee leave me, now I think of it: For shouldst thou stay, thou'dst rob me of my Anger; For since a Youth like thee can be unhappy, With such a Shape, and so divine a Face, Methinks I should not quarrel with my Star, But bow to all my faithless Mistress' Scorns.

[Hollowing within.] So ho, ho, so ho, ho--

_Mar._ So ho, so ho, ho, ho-- 'Tis my false Rival.

Now leave me, Sir, to rea.s.sume my Anger.

_Hip._ I will obey-- farewel-- My own Despair makes me neglect his Life. [Goes out.

Enter _Silvio_.

_Mar._ 'Tis _Silvio_.

_Silv._ You see I have obey'd you, Sir.

_Mar._ Come, Sir, your Sword.

_Silv._ You are my Brother, and 'twere an impious Action, To fight you unprovok'd: give me a cause, Nay, and a just one too, or I shall find it hard --To wound _Cleonte's_ Brother. [Aside sighing.

_Mar._ Thou cam'st prepar'd to talk, and not to fight.

I cannot blame thee for't, for were I _Silvio_, Thus I would do to save a Life belov'd: [Offers to fight, _Silvio_ steps back.

But 'twill not serve you now.

_Silv._ Your Reason, Sir, and I'm ready, if it be just.

_Mar._ Oh do not urge me to repeat my Wrongs, For if thou dost, I hardly shall have Man enough remain To fight thee fairly. [Offers still.

_Silv._ Surely he knows my Pa.s.sion for _Cleonte_-- [Aside.

I urge the Reason still.

_Mar._ Hast thou forgot thy last Night's Treachery?

How like a Thief thou stol'st into her Lodgings?