The Works of Aphra Behn, Volume III

by Aphra Behn

ACT II.

THE REPRESENTATION OF THE WEDDING.

The Curtain must be let down, and soft Musick must play: The Curtain being drawn up, discovers a scene of a Temple: The King sitting on a Throne, bowing down to join the hands Alcippus and Erminia, who kneel on the steps of the Throne; the Officers of the Court and Clergy standing in order by, with Orgulius. _This within the Scene.

Without on the Stage_, Philander with his Sword half drawn, held by Galatea, who looks ever on Alcippus: Erminia still fixing her Eyes on Philander; Pisaro passionately gazing on Galatea: Aminta on Fallatio, and he on her: Alcander, Isillia, Cleontius, in other several postures, with the rest, all remaining without motion, whilst the Musick softly plays; this continues a while till the Curtain falls; and then the Musick plays aloud till the Act begins.

SCENE I. The Palace.

Enter Philander and Galatea inrag’d.

Phi. ‘Tis done, ‘tis done, the fatal knot is ty’d,
Erminia to Alcippus is a Bride;
Methinks I see the Motions of her Eyes,
And how her Virgin Breasts do fall and rise:
Her bashful Blush, her timorous Desire,
Adding new Flame to his too vigorous Fire;
Whilst he the charming Beauty must embrace,
And shall I live to suffer this Disgrace?
Shall I stand tamely by, and he receive
That Heaven of bliss, defenceless she can give?
No, Sister, no, renounce that Brother’s name,
Suffers his Patience to surmount his Flame;
I’ll reach the Victor’s heart, and make him see,
That Prize he has obtain’d belongs to me.

Gal. Ah, dear Philander, do not threaten so, Whilst him you wound, you kill a Sister too.

Phi. Though all the Gods were rallied on his side,
They should too feeble prove to guard his Pride.
Justice and Honour on my Sword shall sit,
And my Revenge shall guide the lucky hit.

Gal. Consider but the danger and the crime, And, Sir, remember that his life is mine.

Phi. Peace, Sister, do not urge it as a sin,
Of which the Gods themselves have guilty been:
The Gods, my Sister, do approve Revenge
By Thunder, which th’.lmighty Ports unhinge,
Such is their Lightning when poor Mortals fear,
And Princes are the Gods inhabit here;
Revenge has charms that do as powerful prove
As those of Beauty, and as sweet as Love,
The force of Vengeance will not be withstood,
Till it has bath’d and cool’d it self in Blood.
Erminia, sweet Erminia, thou art lost,
And he yet lives that does the conquest boast.

Gal. Brother, that Captive you can ne’er retrieve
More by the Victor’s death, than if he live,
For she in Honour cannot him prefer,
Who shall become her Husband’s Murderer;
By safer ways you may that blessing gain,
When venturing thus through Blood and Death prove vain.

Phi. With hopes already that are vain as Air,
You’ve kept me from Revenge, but not Despair.
I had my self acquitted, as became
Erminia’s wrong’d Adorer, and my Flame;
My Rival I had kill’d, and set her free,
Had not my Justice been disarm’d by thee.
—But for thy faithless Hope, I ‘ad murder’d him,
Even when the holy Priest was marrying them,
And offer’d up the reeking Sacrifice
To th’.ods he kneel’d to, when he took my price;
By all their Purity I would have don’t.
But now I think I merit the Affront:
He that his Vengeance idly does defer,
His Safety more than his Success must fear:
I, like that Coward, did prolong my Fate,
But brave Revenge can never come too late.

Gal. Brother, if you can so inhuman prove To me your Sister, Reason, and to Love: I’ll let you see that I have sentiments too, Can love and be reveng’d as well as you; That hour that shall a death to him impart, Shall send this Dagger to Erminia’s heart. [Shews a Dagger.

Phi. Ah, Coward, how these words have made thee pale, And Fear above thy Courage does prevail: Ye Gods, why did you such a way invent?

Gal. None else was left thy madness to prevent.

Phi. Ah, cruel Sister, I am tame become,
And will reverse my happy Rival’s doom:
Yes, he shall live to triumph o’er my Tomb.
—But yet what thou hast said, I needs must blame,
For if my resolutions prove the same,
I now should kill thee, and my life renew;
But were it brave or just to murder you?
At worst, I should an unkind Sister kill,
Thou wouldst the sacred blood of Friendship spill.
I kill a Man that has undone my Fame,
Ravish’d my Mistress, and contemn’d my Name,
And, Sister, one who does not thee prefer:
But thou no reason hast to injure her.
Such charms of Innocence her Eyes do dress,
As would confound the cruel’st Murderess:
And thou art soft, and canst no Horror see,
Such Actions, Sister, you must leave to me.

Gal. The highest Love no Reason will admit, And Passion is above my Friendship yet.

Phi. Then since I cannot hope to alter thee,
Let me but beg that thou wouldst set me free;
Free this poor Soul that such a coil does keep;
’.will neither let me wake in Peace, nor sleep.
Comfort I find a stranger to my heart,
Nor canst thou ought of that but thus impart;
Thou shouldst with joy a death to him procure,
Who by it leaves _Alcippus’. life secure.

Gal. Dear Brother, you out-run your Patience still,
We’ll neither die our selves, nor others kill;
Something I’ll do that shall thy joys restore,
And bring thee back that health thou had’st before;
—We’re now expected at the Banquet, where
I’d have thy Eyes more Love than Anger wear:
This night be cheerful, and on me depend,
On me, that am thy Sister, and thy Friend:
A little raise _Alcippus’. Jealousy
And let the rest be carried on by me;
Nor would it be amiss should you provide
A Serenade to entertain the Bride:
’.will give him Fears that may perhaps disprove
The fond opinion of his happy Love.

Phi. Though Hope be faithless, yet I cannot chuse, Coming from thee, but credit the abuse.

Gal. Philander, do not your Hope’s power distrust, ’.is time enough to die, when that’s unjust.

[Exeunt.

SCENE II. The Court Gallery.

Enter Aminta as passing over the Stage, is stayed by Olinda.

Oli. Why so hasty, Aminta?

Am. The time requires it, Olinda.

Oli. But I have an humble suit to you.

Am. You shall command me any thing.

Oli. Pray Heaven you keep your word.

Am. That sad tone of thine, Olinda, has almost Made me repent of my promise; but come, what is’t?

Oli. My Brother, Madam.

Am. Now fie upon thee, is that all thy business? [Offers to go off.

Oli. Stay, Madam, he dies for you.

Am. He cannot do’t for any Woman living; But well—it seems he speaks of Love to you; To me he does appear a very Statue.

Oli. He nought but sighs and calls upon your name, And vows you are the cruell’st Maid that breathes.

Am. Thou can’st not be in earnest sure.

Oli. I’ll swear I am, and so is he.

Am. Nay, thou hast a hard task on’t, to make Vows to all the Women he makes love to; Indeed I pity thee; ha, ha, ha.

Oli. You should not laugh at those you have undone.

Aminta sings.

Hang Love, for I will never pine
For any Man alive;
Nor shall this jolly Heart of mine
The thoughts of it receive;
I will not purchase Slavery
At such a dangerous rate;
But glory in my Liberty,
And laugh at Love and Fate.

Oli. You’ll kill him by this cruelty.

Am. What is’t thou call’st so?
For I have hitherto given no denials,
Nor has he given me cause;
I have seen him wildly gaze upon me often,
And sometimes blush and smile, but seldom that;
And now and then found fault with my replies,
And wonder’d where the Devil lay that wit,
Which he believ’d no Judge of it could find.

Oli. Faith, Madam, that’s his way of making love.

Am. It will not take with me, I love a Man
Can kneel, and swear, and cry, and look submiss,
As if he meant indeed to die my Slave:
Thy Brother looks—but too much like a Conqueror. [Sighs.

Oli. How, Aminta, can you sigh in earnest?

Am. Yes, Olinda, and you shall know its meaning;
I love Alcander, and am not asham’d o’th’ secret,
But prithee do not tell him what I say.
—Oh, he’s a man made up of those Perfections,
Which I have often lik’d in several men;
And wish’d united to compleat some one,
Whom I might have the glory to o’ercome.
—His Mein and Person, but ‘bove all his Humour,
That surly Pride, though even to me addrest,
Does strangely well become him.

Oli. May I believe this?

Am. Not if you mean to speak on’t, But I shall soon enough betray my self.

Enter Falatius with a patch or two on his Face.

Falatius, welcome from the Wars; I’m glad to see y’ave scap’d the dangers of them.

Fal. Not so well scap’d neither, Madam, but I Have left still a few testimonies of their Severity to me. [Points to his face.

Oli. That’s not so well, believe me.

Fal. Nor so ill, since they be such as render us
No less acceptable to your fair Eyes, Madam!
But had you seen me when I gain’d them, Ladies,
In that heroick posture.

Am. What posture?

Fal. In that of fighting, Madam;
You would have call’d to mind that antient story
Of the stout Giants that wag’d War with Heaven;
Just so I fought, and for as glorious prize,
Your excellent Ladiship.

Am. For me, was it for me you ran this hazard then?

Fal. Madam, I hope you do not question that,
Was it not all the faults you found with me,
The reputation of my want of Courage,
A thousand Furies are not like a Battle;
And but for you,
By Jove, I would not fight it o’er again
For all the glory on’t; and now do you doubt me?
Madam, your heart is strangely fortified
That can resist th’efforts I have made against it,
And bring to boot such marks of valour too.

Enter to them Alcander, who seeing them would turn back, but Olinda stays him.

Oli. Brother, come back.

Fal. Advance, advance, what, Man, afraid of me?

Alcan. How can she hold discourse with that Fantastick. [Aside.

Fal. Come forward, and be complaisant. [Pulls him again.

Alcan. That’s most proper for your Wit, Falatius.

Am. Why so angry?

Alcan. Away, thou art deceiv’d.

Am. You’ve lost your sleep, which puts you out of humour.

Alcan. He’s damn’d will lose a moment on’t for you.

Am. Who is’t that has displeas’d you?

Alcan. You have, and took my whole repose away,
And more than that, which you ne’er can restore;
I can do nothing as I did before.
When I would sleep, I cannot do’t for you,
My Eyes and Fancy do that form pursue;
And when I sleep, you revel in my Dreams,
And all my Life is nothing but extremes.
When I would tell my love, I seem most rude,
For that informs me how I am subdu’d.
Gods, you’re unjust to tyrannize o’er me,
When thousands fitter for’t than I go free.
[Ex.

Fal. Why, what the Devil has possest Alcander?

Oli. How like you this, Aminta?

Am. Better and better, he’s a wondrous man.

[Exeunt Am. and Oli.

Fal. ‘Tis the most unjanty humour that ever I saw;
Ay, ay, he is my Rival,
No marvel an he look’d so big upon me;
He is damnable valiant, and as jealous as
He is valiant; how shall I behave my
Self to him, and these too idle humours of his
I cannot yet determine; the comfort is,
He knows I am a Coward whatever face I set upon it.
Well, I must either resolve never to provoke
His Jealousy, or be able to rencounter his
Other fury, his Valour; that were a good
Resolve if I be not past all hope.

[Ex.

SCENE III.

Enter Alcippus and Erminia, as in a Bed-Chamber.

Alcip. But still methinks, Erminia, you are sad,
A heaviness appears in those fair Eyes,
As if your Soul were agitating something
Contrary to the pleasure of this night.

Er. You ought in Justice, Sir, t’excuse me here,
Prisoners when first committed are less gay,
Than when they’re us’d to Fetters every day,
But yet in time they will more easy grow.

Alcip. You strangely bless me in but saying so.

Er. Alcippus, I’ve an humble suit to you.

Alcip. All that I have is so intirely thine,
And such a Captive thou hast made my Will,
Thou needst not be at the expence of wishing
For what thou canst desire that I may grant;
Why are thy Eyes declin’d?

Er. To satisfy a little modest scruple; I beg you would permit me, Sir—

Alcip. To lie alone to night, is it not so, Erminia?

Er. It is—

Alcip. That’s too severe, yet I will grant it thee? But why, Erminia, must I grant it thee?

Er. The Princess, Sir, questions my Power, and says, I cannot gain so much upon your Goodness.

Alcip. I could have wish’d some other had oblig’d thee to’t.

Er. You would not blame her if you knew her reason.

Alcip. Indeed I do not much, for I can guess
She takes the party of the Prince her Brother;
And this is only to delay those Joys,
Which she perhaps believes belong to him.
—But that, Erminia, you can best resolve;
And ‘tis not kindly done to hide a truth,
The Prince so clearly own’d.

Er. What did he own?

Alcip. He said, Erminia, that you were his Wife;
If so, no wonder you refuse my Bed: [She weeps.
The Presence of the King hinder’d my knowledge,
Of what I willingly would learn from you;
—Come, ne’er deny a truth that plain appears;
I see Hypocrisy through all your Tears.

Er. You need not ask me to repeat again,
A Knowledge which, you say, appears so plain:
The Prince his word methinks should credit get,
Which I’ll confirm whene’er you call for it:
My heart before you ask’t it, was his prize,
And cannot twice become a Sacrifice.

Alcip. Erminia, is this brave or just in you,
To pay his score of Love with what’s my due?
What’s your design to treat me in this sort?
Are sacred Vows of Marriage made your sport?
Regard me well, Erminia, what am I?

Er. One, Sir, with whom, I’m bound to live and die, And one to whom, by rigorous command, I gave (without my Heart) my unwilling Hand.

Alcip. But why, Erminia, did you give it so?

Er. T’obey a King and cruel Father too.
A Friendship, Sir, I can on you bestow,
But that will hardly into Passion grow;
And ‘twill an Act below your Virtue prove,
To force a Heart you know can never love.

Alcip. Am I the mask to hide your Blushes in,
I the contented Fool to veil your Sin?
Have you already learnt that trick at Court,
Both how to practise and secure your sport?
Brave Mistress of your Art, is this the way,
My Service and my Passion to repay?
Will nothing but a Prince your pleasure fit,
And could you think that I would wink at it?
Recal that Folly, or by all that’s good,
I’ll free the Soul that wantons in thy Blood.
[He in rage takes her by the arm, shews a dagger.

Er. I see your Love your Reason has betray’d,
But I’ll forgive the Faults which Love has made:
’.is true, I love, and do confess it too;
Which if a Crime, I might have hid from you;
But such a Passion ‘tis as does despise
Whatever Rage you threaten from your Eyes.
—Yes—you may disapprove this flame in me,
But cannot hinder what the Gods decree;
—Search here this truth; Alas, I cannot fear;
Your Steel shall find a welcome entrance here.

[He holds her still and gazes on her.

Alcip. Where dost thou think thy ungrateful Soul will go, Loaded with wrongs to me, should I strike now?

Er. To some blest place, where Lovers do reside,
Free from the noise of Jealousy and Pride;
Where we shall know no other Power but Love,
And where even thou wilt soft and gentle prove;
So gentle, that if I should meet thee there,
Thou would’st allow, what thou deny’st me here.

Alcip. Thou hast disarm’d my Rage, and in its room
A world of Shame and softer Passions come,
Such as the first efforts of Love inspir’d,
When by thy charming Eyes my Soul was fir’d.

Er. I must confess your Fears are seeming just,
But here to free you from the least mistrust,
I swear, whilst I’m your Wife I’ll not allow
Birth to a Thought that tends to injuring you.

Alcip. Not to believe thee, were a sin above
The Injuries I have done thee by my Love.
—Ah, my Erminia, might I hope at last
To share the pity of that lovely Breast,
By slow degrees I might approach that Throne,
Where now the blest Philander reigns alone:
Perhaps in time my Passion might redeem
That now too faithful Heart y’ave given to him;
Do but forbear to hear his amorous Tales,
Nor from his moving Eyes learn what he ails:
A Fire that’s kindled cannot long survive,
If one add nought to keep the flame alive.

Er. I will not promise; what I mean to do My Virtue only shall oblige me to.

Alcip. But, Madam, what d’you mean by this reserve?
To what intent does all this Coldness serve?
Is there no pity to my Sufferings due?
And will you still my Languishments renew?
Come, come, recal what you have rashly said;
And own to morrow that thou art no Maid:
Thy Blushes do betray thy willingness,
And in thy lovely Eyes I read success.

Er. A double tie obliges me to be
Strict to my Vows, my Love and Amity;
For my own sake the first I’ll ne’er decline,
And I would gladly keep the last for thine.

Alcip. Madam, you strangely do improve my pain, To give me hopes you must recal again.

Er. Alcippus, you this language will forbear,
When you shall know how powerful you are;
For whilst you here endeavour to subdue,
The best of Women languishes for you.

Alcip. Erminia, do not mock my misery,
For though you cannot love, yet pity me;
That you allow my Passion no return,
Is weight enough, you need not add your Scorn,
In this your Cruelty is too severe.

Er. Alcippus, you mistake me every where.

Alcip. To whom, Erminia, do I owe this Fate?

Er. To morrow all her story I’ll relate. Till then the promise I the Princess made, I beg you would permit might be obey’d.

Alcip. You, Madam, with so many charms assail,
You need not question but you shall prevail;
Thy power’s not lessen’d in thy being mine,
But much augmented in my being thine,
The glory of my chains may raise me more,
But I am still that Slave I was before.

[Exeunt severally.

SCENE IV. Philander’s Bed-chamber.

Enter Philander and Alcander. [The Prince half undrest.

Phi. What’s a Clock, Alcander?

Alcan. ‘Tis midnight, Sir, will you not go to bed?

Phi. To bed, Friend; what to do?

Alcan. To sleep, Sir, as you were wont to do.

Phi. Sleep, and Erminia have abandon’d me; I’ll never sleep again.

Alcan. This is an humour, Sir, you must forsake.

Phi. Never, never, oh Alcander. Dost know where my Erminia lies to night?

Alcan. I guess, Sir.

Phi. Where? Nay, prithee speak, Indeed I shall not be offended at it.

Alcan. I know not why you should, Sir; She’s where she ought, abed with young Alcippus.

Phi. Thou speak’st thy real Thoughts.

Alcan. Why should your Highness doubt it?

Phi. By Heaven, there is no faith in Woman-kind; Alcander, dost thou know an honest Woman?

Alcan. Many, Sir.

Phi. I do not think it, ‘tis impossible; Erminia, if it could have been, were she, But she has broke her Vows, which I held sacred, And plays the wanton in another’s arms.

Alcan. Sir, do you think it just to wrong her so?

Phi. Oh, would thou couldst persuade me that I did so.
Thou know’st the Oaths and Vows she made to me,
Never to marry other than my self,
And you, Alcander, wrought me to believe them.
But now her Vows to marry none but me,
Are given to Alcippus, and in his bosom breath’d,
With balmy whispers, whilst the ravisht Youth
For every syllable returns a kiss,
And in the height of all his extasy,
Philander’s dispossess’d and quite forgotten.
Ah, charming Maid, is this your Love to me?
Yet now thou art no Maid, nor lov’st not me,
And I the fool to let thee know my weakness.

Alcan. Why do you thus proceed to vex your self? To question what you list, and answer what you please? Sir, this is not the way to be at ease.

Phi. Ah, dear Alcander, what would’st have me do?

Alcan. Do that which may preserve you; Do that which every Man in love would do; Make it your business to possess the object.

Phi. What meanest thou, is she not married?—

Alcan. What then? she’as all about her that she had, Of Youth and Beauty she is Mistress still, And may dispose it how and where she will.

Phi. Pray Heaven I do not think too well of thee: What means all this discourse, art thou honest?

Alcan. As most Men of my Age.

Phi. And wouldst thou counsel me to such a Sin? For—I do understand—thee.

Alcan. I know not what you term so.

Phi. I never thought thou’dst been so great a Villain, To urge me to a crime would damn us all; Why dost thou smile, hast thou done well in this?

Alcan. I thought so, or I’ad kept it to my self.
Sir, e’er you grow in rage at what I’ve said,
Do you think I love you, or believe my life
Were to be valued more than your repose?
You seem to think it is not.

Phi. Possibly I may.

Alcan. The sin of what I have propos’d to you
You only seem to hate: Sir, is it so?
—If such religious thoughts about you dwell,
Why is it that you thus perplex your self?
Self-murder sure is much the greater sin.
Erminia too you say has broke her Vows,
She that will swear and lye, will do the rest.
And of these evils, this I think the least;
And as for me, I never thought it sin.

Phi. And canst thou have so poor a thought of her?

Alcan. I hope you’ll find her, Sir, as willing to’t
As I am to suppose it; nay, believe’t,
She’ll look upon’t as want of Love and Courage
Should you not now attempt it;
You know, Sir, there’s no other remedy,
Take no denial, but the Game pursue,
For what she will refuse, she wishes you.

Phi. With such pretensions—she may angry grow.

Alcan. I never heard of any that were so, For though the will to do’t, and power they want, They love to hear of what they cannot grant.

Phi. No more, Is this your duty to your Prince, Alcander? You were not wont to counsel thus amiss, ’.is either Disrespect or some Design; I could be wondrous angry with thee now, But that my Grief has such possession here, ’.will make no room for Rage.

Alcan. I cannot, Sir, repent of what I’ve said,
Since all the errors which I have committed
Are what my passion to your interest led me to,
But yet I beg your Highness would recal
That sense which would persuade you ‘tis unjust.

Phi. Name it no more, and I’ll forgive it thee.

Alcan. I can obey you, Sir.

Phi. What shall we do to night, I cannot sleep.

Alcan. I’m good at watching, and doing any thing.

Phi. We’ll serenade the Ladies and the Bride. —The first we may disturb, but she I fear Keeps watch with me to night, though not like me.

Enter a Page of the Prince’s.

Phi. How now, Boy, Is the Musick ready which I spoke for?

Page. They wait your Highness’s command.

Phi. Bid them prepare, I’m coming. [Ex. Page. Soft touches may allay the Discords here, And sweeten, though not lessen my Despair.

[Exeunt.

SCENE V. The Court Gallery.

Enter Pisaro alone.

Pis. Ha! who’s that? a Lover, on my life, This amorous malady reigns every where; Nor can my Sister be an ignorant Of what I saw this night in Galatea: I’ll question her—Sister, Aminta, Sister. [Calls as at her Lodgings.

Enter Lysette.

Lys. Who calls my Lady?

Pis. Where’s my Sister?

Lys. I cry your Lordship’s mercy; My Lady lies not in her Lodgings to night; The Princess sent for her, Her Highness is not well. [She goes in.

Pis. I do believe it, good night, Lysette.

Enter a Page.

—Who’s there?

Page. Your Lordship’s Page.

Pis. Where hast thou been? I wanted thee but now.

Page. I fell asleep i’th’ Lobby, Sir, and had not waken’d Yet, but for the Musick which plays at the Lodgings Of my Lady Erminia.

Pis. Curse on them; will they not allow him nights to himself;
‘tis hard.
This night I’m wiser grown by observation,
My Love and Friendship taught me jealousy,
Which like a cunning Spy brought in intelligence
From every eye less wary than its own;
They told me that the charming Galatea,
In whom all power remains,
Is yet too feeble to encounter Love;
I find she has receiv’d the wanton God,
Maugre my fond opinion of her Soul.
And ‘tis my Friend too that’s become my Rival.
I saw her lovely Eyes still turn on him,
As Flowers to th’.un: and when he turn’d away
Like those she bow’d her charming head again.
—On th’other side the Prince with dying looks
Each motion watch’d of fair Erminia’s eyes,
Which she return’d as greedily again,
And if one glance t’ Alcippus she directed,
He’d stare as if he meant to cut his throat for’t.

Well, Friend, thou hast a sure defence of me,
My Love is yet below my Amity.

[Ex.

SCENE VI. Draws off, discovers Philander_ and_ Alcander with Musick at the Chamber-door of Erminia; to them Pisaro, who listens whilst the Song is sung.

The Song for the Page to sing at Erminia’s Chamber-door.

Amintas that true-hearted Swain
Upon a River’s bank was laid,
Where to the pitying streams he did complain
Of Sylvia that false charming Maid,
But she was still regardless of his pain:
Oh faithless Sylvia! would he cry,
And what he said the Echoes would reply.
Be kind or else I die, E. I die.
Be kind or else I die, E. I die.

A shower of tears his eyes let fall,
Which in the River made impress,
Then sigh’d, and Sylvia false again would call,
A cruel faithless Shepherdess.
Is Love with you become a criminal?
Ah lay aside this needless scorn,
Allow your poor Adorer some return,
Consider how I burn, E. I burn.
Consider, &c.

Those Smiles and Kisses which you give.
Remember, Sylvia, are my due;
And all the Joys my Rival does receive
He ravishes from me, not you.
Ah Sylvia, can I live and this believe?
Insensibles are touched to see
My languishments, and seem to pity me.
Which I demand of thee, E. of thee,
Which I demand, &c.

Pis. What’s all this?

Phi. Who’s there?

Pis. A Man, a Friend to the General.

Phi. Then thou’rt an Enemy to all good Men. Does the ungrateful Wretch hide his own head, And send his Spies abroad?

Pis. He is too great to fear, and needs them not: And him thou termest so, scorns the Office too.

Phi. What makest thou here then, when the whole World’s asleep? Be gone, there lies thy way, where’er thy business be.

Pis. It lies as free for thee, and here’s my business.

Phi. Thou lyest, rude man.

Pis. Why, what art thou darest tell me so i’th’ dark? Day had betray’d thy blushes for this Boldness.

Phi. Tell me who ‘tis that dares capitulate?

Pis. One that dares make it good.

Phi. Draw then, and keep thy word.

Alcan. Stand by, and let me do that duty, Sir. [He steps between them, they fight, Pisaro falls. —Here’s thy reward, whoe’er thou art.

Phi. Hast thou no hurt?

Alcan. I think not much, yet somewhere ‘tis I bleed.

Pis. What a dull beast am I!

[Exeunt Prince and Alcan.

Enter Page.

Page. My Lord, is’t you are fallen? Help, Murder! Murder!

Pis. Hold, bawling Dog.

Enter Alcippus in a Night-gown, with a Sword in his hand, a Page with Lights.

Alcip. ‘Twas hereabouts—who’s this, Pisaro wounded? [He looks up. How cam’st thou thus? Come up into my Arms.

Pis. ‘Twas Jealousy, Alcippus, that wild Monster,
Who never leaves us till he has thus betray’d us.
—Pox on’t, I am asham’d to look upon thee.
I have disturb’d you to no purpose, Sir.
I am not wounded, go to bed again.

Alcan. I’ll see thee to thy Lodgings first, Pisaro.

Pis. ‘Twill be unkind both to your self and me.

[Exeunt.

SCENE VII. The Court Gallery.

Enter Philander and Alcander with a Light.

Alcan. He’s gone, whoe’er he be.

Phi. It could not be Alcippus.

Alcan. I rather fear Pisaro, —But we soon enough shall know: Who’s this?

Enter Erminia in her Night-gown, and lsillia with Lights.

Er. Methought I heard Alcippus and the Prince Before the cry of Murder. I die if those two Rivals have encounter’d.

Phi. Ah, Madam, cease that fear, they both are safe From all but from the Wounds which you have given them.

Er. Oh Gods, what make you here! and where’s Alcippus?

Phi. Where I had been had Heaven been bountiful.

Er. Alas, Sir, what do you mean? what have you done? And where have you bestow’d him?

Phi. Why all this high concern, Erminia? Has he so reconcil’d you to him since I saw you last? This is not kind to me.

Er. Oh, tell me not of kindness, where’s Alcippus?

Alcan. Madam, of whom do you demand Alcippus? Neither of us have seen him.

Phi. Go, you are a Woman, a vain peevish Creature.

Er. Sir, ‘tis but just you should excuse my Fear, Alcippus is my Husband, and his Safety Ought to become my care.

Phi. How, Erminia! Can you so soon yield up my right to him, And not blush whilst you own your Perjury?

Er. Now, Sir, you are much to blame;
I could have borne the rest, but this concerns me:
I fear I have but too well kept my Vows with you,
Since you are grown but to suspect I have not.

Phi. Pardon me, Dear, the errors of my Passion;
It was a Sin so natural,
That even thy unkindly taking it
Approach’d too near it, not to gain my Pardon;
But tell me why you askt me for Alcippus?

Er. Sir, e’er I could dispose my Eyes to sleep,
I heard the Musick at my Chamber-door,
And such a Song as could be none but yours;
But that was finish’d in a noise less pleasant,
In that of Swords and Quarrel;
And amongst which,
I thought I heard yours and _Alcippus’. Voice:
(For I have kept my word, and lay not with him)
This brought me hither; but if I mistook,
Once more I beg your pardon.

Phi. Thou hast restor’d me to a world of Joys, By what thou now hast said.

Enter Alcippus, his Sword in his Hand, a
Page with Light, he stands a while.

Alcip. Erminia! and the Prince! embracing too! I dream, and know she could not be thus base, Thus false and loose— But here I am inform’d it is no Vision; —This was design’d before, I find it now. [Lays his hand on his heart.

Er. Alcippus, oh my fears! [Goes to them, takes her by the hand.

Alcip. Yes, Madam, Too soon arriv’d for his and your repose.

Phi. Alcippus, touch her not.

Alcip. Not touch her! by Heaven, I will, And who shall hinder me? Who is’t dares say I shall not touch my Wife?

Phi. Villain, thou ly’st.

Alcip. That y’are my Prince shall not defend you here. Draw, Sir, for I have laid respect aside.

[Strikes, they fight a little, Alcippus is wounded, Alcander supports him.

Er. Oh Gods, what mean you? hold, Philander, hold.

Phi. Life of my Soul, retire,
I cannot hear that Voice and disobey;
And you must needs esteem him at low rates,
Who sells thee and his Honour for a Tear.

Er. Upon my knees I beg to be obey’d, [She kneels. —But if I must not, here discharge your Anger.

Phi. You are too great a Tyrant where you may.

[Exeunt Erminia and Alcippus.

Phi. Stay, shall I let her go? shall her Commands, Though they have power to take my Life away, Have force to suffer me to injure her? Shall she be made a prey, and I permit it, Who only have the interest to forbid it? —No, let me be accurst then. [Offers to follow.

Alcan. What mean you, Sir?

Phi. Force the bold Ravisher to resign my Right. Alcander, is not she my Wife, and I his Prince?

Alcan. ‘Tis true, Sir: And y’ave both power and justice on your side; And there are times to exercise ‘em both.

Phi. Fitter than this, Alcander?

Alcan. This night Erminia’s Promise may repose you; To morrow is your own— Till then I beg you’d think your interest safe.

Phi. Alcander, thou hast peace about thee, and canst judge
Better than I, ‘twixt what is just and fit.
[Puts up his Sword.
I hitherto believ’d my Flame was guided
By perfect Reason: so we often find
Vessels conducted by a peaceful Wind,
And meet no opposition in their way,
Cut a safe passage through the flattering Sea:
But when a Storm the bounding Vessel throws,
It does each way with equal rage oppose;
For when the Seas are mad, could that be calm
Like me, it wou’d be ruin’d in the Storm.

[Exeunt.