The Works of Aphra Behn, Volume III

by Aphra Behn

ACT IV.

SCENE I. The Palace.

Enter Galatea and Aminta, met by Philander and Alcander.

Phi. So hasty, Sister!

Gal. Brother, I am glad to meet you. Aminta has some welcome News for you.

Am. My Lord!
Erminia yet is hardly brought to yield;
She wants but some encouragement from you,
That may assist her weakness to subdue,
And ‘twas but faintly she deny’d to see you.

Phi. However, I will venture, She can but chide, and that will soon be past: A Lover’s Anger is not long to last.

Am. Isillia I have won to give you entrance.

Phi. Love furnish me with powerful Arguments: Direct my Tongue, that my disorder’d Sense May speak my Passion more than Eloquence. [Aside.

Gal. But is Alcippus gone?

Alcan. Madam, an hour since.

Phi. ‘Tis well; and Sister,
Whilst I persuade Erminia to this flight,
Make it your business to persuade the King,
Hang on his neck, and kiss his willing cheek:
Tell him how much you love him, and then smile,
And mingle Words with Kisses; ‘twill o’ercome him
Thou hast a thousand pretty Flatteries,
Which have appeas’d his highest fits of Passion:
A Song from thee has won him to that rest,
Which neither Toil nor Silence could dispose him to.
Thou know’st thy power, and now or never use it.

Gal. ‘Twas thither I was going.

Phi. May’st thou be prosperous.

[Exeunt Phi. and Gal. Aminta and Alcander stay.

Am. What now, Alcander?

Alcan. As ‘twas, Aminta.

Am. How’s that?

Alcan. Such a distracted Lover as you left me.

Am. Such as I found you too, I fear, Alcander.

Alcan. Ah, Madam, do not wrong me so;
Till now I never knew the joys and sorrows
That do attend a Soul in love like mine:
My Passion only fits the Object now;
I hate to tell you so, ‘tis a poor low means
To gain a Mistress by, of so much wit:
Aminta, you’re above that common rate
Of being won.
Mean Beauties should be flatter’d into praise,
Whilst you need only Sighs from every Lover,
To tell you who you conquer, and not how,
Nor to instruct you what attracts you have.

Am. This will not serve to convince me, But you have lov’d before.

Alcan. And will you never quit that error, Madam?

Am. ‘Tis what I’ve reason to believe, Alcander,
And you can give me none for loving me:
I’m much unlike Lucinda whom you sigh’d for,
I’m not so coy, nor so reserv’d as she;
Nor so designing as Florana your next Saint,
Who starv’d you up with hope, till you grew weary;
And then Ardelia did restore that loss,
The little soft Ardelia, kind and fair too.

Alcan. You think you’re wondrous witty now, Aminta, But hang me if you be.

Am. Indeed, Alcander, no, ‘tis simple truth:
Then for your bouncing Mistress, long Brunetta,
O that majestick Garb, ‘tis strangely taking,
That scornful Look, and Eyes that strike all dead
That stand beneath them.

Alcander, I have none of all these Charms:
But well, you say you love me; could you be
Content to dismiss these petty sharers in your Heart,
And give it all to me; on these conditions
I may do much.

Alcan. Aminta, more perhaps than I may like.

Am. Do not fear that, Alcander.

Alcan. Your Jealousy incourages that Fear.

Am. If I be so, I’m the fitter for your humour.

Alcan. That’s another reason for my fears; that ill-Luck owes us a spite, and will be sure to pay us with loving one another, a thought I dread. Farewel, Aminta; when I can get loose from Ardelia, I may chance wait on you, till then your own Pride be your Companion.

[Holds him.

Am. Nay, you shall not go, Alcander.

Alcan. Fy on’t, those Looks have lost their wonted Force,
I knew you’d call me back to smile upon me,
And then you have me sure; no, no, Aminta,
I’ll no more of that. [Goes out.

Am. I have too much betray’d my Passion for him,
—I must recal it, if I can I must:—
I will—for should I yield, my power’s o’erthrown,
And what’s a Woman when that glory’s gone?

[Exit.

SCENE II. The Apartments of Alcippus.

Enter Alcippus and Pisaro.

Pis. You seem’d then to be pleas’d with what she said.

Alcip. And then methought I was so, But yet even then I fear’d she did dissemble. —Gods, what’s a Man possest with Jealousy?

Pis. A strange wild thing, a Lover without reason;
I once have prov’d the torture on’t,
But as unlike to thine as good from evil;
Like fire in Limbecks, mine was soft and gentle,
Infusing kindly heat, till it distill’d
The spirits of the Soul out at my Eyes,
And so it ended.
But thine’s a raging Fire, which never ceases
Till it has quite destroy’d the goodly Edifice
Where it first took beginning.
Faith, strive, Sir, to suppress it.

Alcip. No, I’ll let it run to its extent,
And see what then ‘twill do.
Perhaps ‘twill make me mad, or end my life,
Either of which will ease me.

Pis. Neither of these, Alcippus; It will unman you, make you too despis’d; And those that now admire will pity you.

Alcip. What wouldst thou have me do?
Am I not ty’d a Slave to follow Love,
Whilst at my back Freedom and Honour waits,
And I have lost the power to welcome them?
Like those who meet a Devil in the night,
And all afrighted gaze upon the Fury,
But dare not turn their backs to what they fear,
Though safety lie behind them.
Alas! I would as willingly as those
Fly from this Devil, Love.

Pis. You may, like those afrighted, by degrees
Allay your sense of terror in the Object,
And then its Power will lesson with your Fear,
And ‘twill be easy to forgo the Fantasm.

Alcip. No, then like the damn’d Ghost it follows me.

Pis. Let Reason then approach it, and examine it.

Alcip. Love is a surly and a lawless Devil,
And will not answer Reason.
I must encounter it some other way,
For I will lay the Fiend.

Pis. What would you have, Alcippus?

Alcip. I’d have fair play, Pisaro.
—I find the cheat, and will not to the Camp;
—Thou shalt supply my place, and I’ll return:
The Night grows on, and something will be done
That I must be acquainted with.

Pis. Pardon me, Sir, if I refuse you here; I find you’re growing up to Jealousies, Which I’ll not trust alone with you.

Alcip. Thou know’st perhaps of something worthy it.

Pis. I must confess, your Passions give me cause,
If I had any Secrets, to conceal them;
But ‘tis no time nor place to make disputes in:
Will you to Horse?

Alcip. Will you not think fit I should return then? I can be calm.

Pis. What is’t you mean by this return, Alcippus?

Alcip. To see Erminia, is not that enough To one in love, as I am?

Pis. But, Sir, suppose you find Philander there?

Alcip. Then I suppose I shall not much approve on’t.

Pis. You would be at your last night’s rage again. Alcippus, this will ruin you for ever, Nor is it all the Power you think you have Can save you, if he once be disoblig’d. Believe me ‘twas the Princess’ passion for you Made up that breach last night.

Alcip. All this I know as well as you, Pisaro,
But will not be abus’d; alas, I’m lost:
Could I recal these two last days are past,
Ah, I should be my self again, Pisaro.
I would refuse these Fetters which I wear,
And be a Slave to nothing but to Glory.

Pis. That were a Resolution worthy of you. —But come, ‘tis late, what you resolve conclude.

Alcip. I am resolv’d I will not to the Camp, A secret inclination does persuade me To visit my Erminia to night.

Pis. Comes it from Love or Jealousy?

Alcip. The first, good faith, Pisaro; thou’rt so fearful— You shall to th’.amp before, And I’ll be with you early in the Morning.

Pis. Give me your hand, and promise to be calm.

Alcip. By all our Friendships, as the Western Winds, [Gives his hand. Nothing that’s done shall e’er inrage me more, Honour’s the Mistress I’ll henceforth adore. [Exit.

Pis. I will not trust you though.

[Goes out another way.

SCENE III. The Court Gallery.

Enter Philander and Alcander in their Clokes muffled as in the dark.

Alcan. Isillia. [Calls at the lodgings of Erminia.

Isil. [Entering.] Who’s there?

Alcan. A Friend.

Isil. My Lord Alcander?

Alcan. The same.

Isil. Where’s the Prince?

Phi. Here, Isillia.

Isil. Give me your hand, my Lord, and follow me.

Phi. To such a Heaven as thou conduct’st me to, Though thou should’st traverse Hell, I’d follow thee.

Alcan. You’ll come back in charity, Isillia?

Isil. Yes, if I dare trust you alone with me.

[They go all in.

SCENE IV.

Draws off, a Chamber, discovers Erminia in a dishabit, sitting; to her Philander, who falls at her feet, on his knees.

Er. My Lord the Prince, what makes your Highness here?

Phi. Erminia, why do ask that needless question? ’.was Love, Love that’s unsatisfied, which brought me hither. [Kneels.

Er. Rise, Sir, this posture would become me better.

Phi. Permit me, dear Erminia—to remain thus.
’.is only by these signs I can express
What my Confusion will not let me utter.
I know not what strange power thou bear’st about thee,
But at thy sight or touch my Sense forsakes me,
And that, withal I had design’d to say,
Turns to a strange disorder’d Rapture in me.
—Oh Erminia—

Er. How do you, Sir?

Phi. I am not well;
Too suddenly I pass from one extreme
To this of Joy, more insupportable:
But I shall re-assume my health anon,
And tell thee all my story.

Er. Dear Sir, retire into this inner room, And there repose awhile: Alas, I see disorder in your Face.

Phi. This confidence of me, is generous in thee.

[They go into the Scene which draws over.

SCENE V. The Court Gallery.

Enter Alcippus.

Alcip. The Night is calm and silent as my Thoughts,
Where nothing now but Love’s soft whispers dwell;
Who in as gentle terms upbraids my Rage,
Which strove to dispossess the Monarch thence:
It tells me how dishonest all my Fears are,
And how ungrateful all my Jealousies;
And prettily persuades those Infidels
To be less rude and mutinous hereafter.
Ah, that I could remain in this same state,
And be contented with this Monarchy:
I would, if my wild multitude of Passions
Could be appeas’d with it; but they’re for Liberty,
And nothing but a Common-wealth within
Will satisfy their appetites of Freedom.
—Pride, Honour, Glory, and Ambition strive
How to expel this Tyrant from my Soul,
But all too weak, though Reason should assist them.
[He knocks. Alcander looks out at the door.

Alcan. Who’s there?

Alcip. A Friend.

Isil. [Within.] Oh Heavens! it is my Lord _Alcippus’. voice.

Alcan. Peace, Isillia.

Alcip. I hear a Man within—open the door.
Now, Love, defend thy Interest, or my Jealousy
Will grow the mightier Devil of the two else. [Alcan. comes out.
—Who’s this? one muffled in a Cloke?
What art thou, who at this dead time of Night
Hast took possession here?
—Speak, or I’ll kill thee.

Alcan. This were an opportunity indeed To do my Prince a service, but I dare not.

Alcip. What darest not do?

Alcan. Not kill thee.

Alcip. Is that thy business then? have at thee, Slave? I’ll spoil your keeping doors. [Runs at him.

[They fight, and grapling, Alcander gets the Sword of Alcippus.

He’as got my Sword, however, I’ll lose no time:
It may be ‘tis his office to detain me. [He goes in.

Alcan. I’m wounded, yet I will not leave him so; There may be Mischief in him, though unarm’d.

[Goes in.

SCENE VI. A Bed-chamber.

Discovers Erminia, Philander sitting on the Bed, to them Isillia, a Sword and Hat on the Table.

Isil. Ah, Madam, Alcippus.

Er. Alcippus, where?

Isil. I left him in a quarrel with Alcander, And hear him coming up.

Er. For Heaven’s sake, Sir, submit to be conceal’d.

Phi. Not for the world, Erminia, My Innocence shall be my guard and thine.

Er. Upon my knees I’ll beg you’ll be conceal’d, [A noise. He comes; Philander, for my safety go.

Phi. I never did obey with more regret.

[He hides himself behind the Bed, and in haste leaves his Sword and Hat on the Table; Alcippus comes in.

Alcip. How now, Erminia? How comes it you are up so late?

Er. I found my self not much inclin’d to sleep; I hope ‘tis no offence. Why do you look so wildly round about you?

Alcip. Methinks, Erminia, you are much confus’d.

Er. Alas, you cannot blame me; Isillia tells me you were much inrag’d Against a Lover she was entertaining.

Alcip. A Lover—was that a time for Courtship? Such Actions, Madam, will reflect on you.

[Isillia goes to take the Hat and Sword and slide
into her lap, which he sees, calls to her.

—What have you there, Isillia?
Come back, and let me see what ‘tis.
[He takes them from her.
—Ha—a Sword and Hat—Erminia, whose be these?

Er. Why do you ask—

Alcip. To be inform’d, is that so great a wonder?

Er. They be my Father’s, Sir—

Alcip. Was that well said, Erminia?—speak again.

Er. What is’t you would know?

Alcip. The truth, Erminia, ‘twould become you best.
Do you think I take these things to be your Father’s?
No, treacherous Woman, I have seen this Sword,
[Draws the Sword.
Worn by a Man more vigorous than thy Father,
It had not else been here.
—Where have you hid this mighty Man of valour?
Have you exhausted so his stock of Courage,
He has not any left t’appear withal?

Phi. Yes, base Alcippus, I have still that Courage,
Th’effects of which thou hast beheld with wonder;
And now being fortified by Innocence,
Thou’t find sufficient to chastise thy boldness:
Restore my Sword, and prove the truth of this.

Alcip. I’ve hardly so much Calmness left to answer thee,
And tell thee, Prince, thou art deceiv’d in me.
—I know ‘tis just I should restore thy Sword,
But thou hast show’d the basest of thy play,
And I’ll return th’uncivil Treachery;
You merit Death for this base Injury.
But you’re my Prince, and that I own you so,
Is all remains in me of Sense or Justice;
The rest is Rage, which if thou gett’st not hence
Will eat up that small morsel too of Reason,
And leave me nothing to preserve thy life with.

Phi. Gods, am I tame, and hear the Traytor brave me? [Offers to run into him. I have resentment left, though nothing else.

Alcip. Stand off, by all that’s good, I’ll kill thee else.
[Er. puts her self between.

Er. Ah, hold, Sir, hold, the Prince has no defence,
And you are more than arm’d; [To Alcip.
What honour is’t to let him murder you? [To the Prince.
—Nor would your Fame be lessen’d by retreat.

Phi. Alas, I dare not leave thee here with him.

Er. Trust me, Sir, I can make him calm again.

Alcip. She counsels well, and I advise you take it.

Phi. I will, but not for fear of thee or Death,
But from th’assurance that her Power’s sufficient
To allay this unbecoming Fury in thee,
And bring thee to repentance.

[He gives him his Sword; Philander goes out,
Alcippus locks the door after him.

Er. Alcippus, what do you mean?

Alcip. To know where ‘twas you learn’d this Impudence? Which you’re too cunning in, Not to have been a stale practitioner.

Er. Alas, what will you do?

Alcip. Preserve thy Soul, if thou hast any sense Of future Joys, after this vile damn’d Action.

Er. Ah, what have I done?

Alcip. That which if I should let thee live, Erminia,
Would never suffer thee to look abroad again.
—Thou’st made thy self and me—
Oh, I dare not name the Monsters.—
But I’ll destroy them while the Gods look down,
And smile upon my Justice.

[He strangles her with a Garter, which he snatches from his Leg, or smothers her with a pillow.

Er. Hold, hold, and hear my Vows of Innocence.

Alcip. Let me be damn’d as thou art, if I do;
[Throws her on a Bed, he sits down in a Chair.
—So now, my Heart, I have redeem’d thee nobly,
Sit down and pause a while—
But why so still and tame, is one poor Murder
Enough to satisfy thy storm of Passion?
If it were just, it ought not here to end;
—If not—I’ve done too much—

[One knocks, he rises after a little pause, and opens the door; enter Page.

Page. My Lord, Pisaro—

Alcip. Pisaro,—Oh, that Name has wakened me, A Name till now had never Terror in’t! —I will not speak with him.

Page. My Lord, he’s here. [Page goes out.

Enter Pisaro.

Pis. Not speak with me! nay then I fear the worst.

Alcip. Not for the world, Pisaro—

[Hides his face with his hand, Pis. sees Erminia.

Pis. Thy guilt is here too plain, I need not read it in thy blushing face, She’s dead and pale: Ah, sweet Erminia!

Alcip. If she be dead, the fitter she’s for me,
She’ll now be coy no more, nor cry I cannot love,
And frown and blush, when I but kiss her hand:
Now I shall read no terror in her Eyes,
And what is better yet, shall ne’er be jealous.

Pis. Why didst thou make such haste to be undone?
Had I detain’d thee but an hour longer,
Thou’dst been the only happy of thy Sex.
—I knew thou didst dissemble when we parted,
And therefore durst not trust thee with thy Passions:
I only staid to gather from my Sister
What news I might concerning your affairs,
Which I with joy came to impart to you,
But most unfortunately came too late:
Why didst thou yield obedience to that Devil,
Which urg’d thee to destroy this Innocent?

Alcip. Pisaro, do not err;
I found the Prince and she alone together,
He all disorder’d like a Ravisher,
Loose and unbutton’d for the amorous play;
O that she had another Life to lose!

Pis. You wrong her most inhumanly, you do;
Her Blood, yet sensible of the injury,
Flows to her face to upbraid thy Cruelty.
—Where dost thou mean, bad Man, to hide thy head?
Vengeance and Justice will pursue thee close,
And hardly leave thee time for Penitence.
—What will the Princess say to this return
You’ve made to all the offers she has sent
This Night by Prince Philander?

Alcip. Oh, when you name the Princess and Philander,
Such different Passions do at once possess me,
As sink my over-laden Soul to Hell.
—Alas, why do I live? ‘tis losing time;
For what is Death, a pain that’s sooner ended
Than what I felt from every frown of hers?
—It was but now that lovely thing had Life,
Could speak and weep, and had a thousand Charms,
That had oblig’d a Murder, and Madness’t self
To’ve been her tame Adorers.
Yet now should even her best belov’d, the Prince,
With all his Youth, his Beauties and Desires,
Fall at her Feet, and tell his tale of Love,
She hardly would return his amorous Smiles,
Or pay his meeting Kisses back again;
Is not that fine, Pisaro?

Pis. Sir, ‘tis no time to talk in, come with me, For here’s no safety for a Murderer.

Alcip. I will not go, alas I seek no Safety.

Pis. I will not now dispute that vain reply, But force you to security.

[Pisaro draws him out, the Scene closes.

SCENE VII. The Palace.

Enter Philander, Alcander, Galatea, Aminta, and Falatius.

Fal. Ah, fly, Sir, fly from what I have to tell you.

Alcan. What’s the news?

Fal. Ah, Sir, the dismal’st heavy news that e’er was told or heard.

Gal. No matter, out with it.

Fal. Erminia, Madam—

Phi. Erminia, what of her?

Fal. Is dead, Sir.

Alcan. What, hast thou lost thy Wits?

Fal. I had them not about me at the sight, I else had been undone: Alas, Erminia’s dead, Murder’d, and dead.

Alcan. It cannot be, thou ly’st.

Fal. By Jove, I do not, Sir, I saw her dead:
Alas, I ran as I was wont to do,
Without demanding licence, to her Chamber,
But found her not, as I was wont to do, [The Women weep.
In a gay humour, but stone-dead and cold.

Phi. Alcander, am I awake?—or being so, Dost not perceive this senseless Flesh of mine Hardened into a cold benumbed Statue? —Methinks—it does—support me—or I fall; And so—shall break to pieces— [Falls into his Arms. He leads him out.

Gal. Ah, lovely Maid, was this thy destiny?
Did Heaven create thy Beauties to this end?
—I must distrust their Bounties, who neglected
The best and fairest of their handy-work;
This will incourage Sin, when Innocence
Must perish thus, and meet with no defence.

Enter the King and Orgulius.

Org. If murder’d Innocence do cry for Justice, Can you, great Sir, make a defence against it?

King. I think I cannot.

Org. Sir, as you are pious, as you are my King, The Lover and Protector of your People, Revenge Erminia’s Murder on Alcippus.

Gal. If e’er my Mother, Sir, were dear to you,
As from your Tears I guest whene’er you nam’d her;
If the remembrance of those Charms remain,
Whose weak resemblance you have found in me,
For which you oft have said you lov’d me dearly;
Dispense your mercy, and preserve this Copy,
Which else must perish with th’.riginal.

King. Why all this Conjuration, Galatea?

Gal. To move you, Sir, to spare _Alcippus’. Life.

King. You are unjust, if you demand a Life Must fall a Sacrifice to Erminia’s Ghost, That is a debt I have ingag’d to pay.

Gal. Sir, if that Promise be already past, And that your Word be irrevocable, I vow I will not live a moment after him.

King. How, Galatea! I’d rather hop’d you’d join’d Your Prayers with his.

Gal. Ah, Sir, the late Petition which I made you Might have inform’d you why these Knees are bow’d; ’.was but this night I did confess I lov’d him, And you would have allow’d that Passion in me, Had he not been Erminia’s: And can you question now what this Address meant?

Org. Remember, Sir, Erminia was my Daughter.

Gal. And, Sir, remember that I am your Daughter.

Org. And shall the Traitor live that murder’d her?

Gal. And will you by his Death, Sir, murder me? In dear Erminia’s Death too much is done; If you revenge that Death, ‘tis two for one.

Org. Ah, Sir, to let him live’s unjust in you.

Gal. And killing me, you more injustice do.

Org. Alcippus, Madam, merits not your Love, That could so cruel to Erminia prove.

Gal. If Lovers could be rul’d by Reason’s Laws,
For this complaint on him we’ad had no cause.
’.was Love that made him this rash act commit;
Had she been kind, ‘t had taught him to submit.
—But might it not your present Griefs augment,
I’d say that you deserve this punishment,
By forcing her to marry with the General;
By which you have destroy’d Philander too,
And now you would _Alcippus’. Life undo.

Org. That was a fault of duty to your Majesty.

King. Though that were honest, ‘twere not wisely done;
For had I known the passion of my Son,
And how essential ‘twas to his content
I willingly had granted my consent;
Her Worth and Beauty had sufficient been
T’ave rais’d her to the Title of a Queen.
Did not my glorious Father, great Gonzal,
Marry the Daughter of his Admiral?
And I might to my Son have been as kind,
As then my Father did my Grandsire find.

Org. You once believ’d that I had guilty been,
And had the Punishment, but not the Sin;
I suffer’d when ‘twas thought I did aspire,
And should by this have rais’d my crimes yet higher.

King. How did Philander take Erminia’s death?

Gal. My own surprize and grief was so extream,
I know not what effects it had in him;
But this account of him, I’m forc’d to give,
Since she is dead, I know he cannot live.

King. I’ll know Philander’s fate e’er I proceed; And if he die, Alcippus too shall bleed.

[Exeunt.

SCENE VIII. The Gallery.

Enter Falatius and Labree.

Fal. Wert thou never valiant, Labree?

Lab. Yes, Sir, before I serv’d you, and since too: I Am provok’d to give you proofs on’t sometimes; For when I am angry I am a very Hector.

Fal. Ay, the Devil when a body’s angry, but that’s
Not the Valour in mode; Men fight now a-days
Without that, and even embrace whilst they draw
Their Swords on one another.

Lab. Ay, Sir, those are Men that despise their lives.

Fal. Why, that’s it, Labree, that I would learn to do, And which I fear, nothing but Poverty will make me do; Jove defend me from that experiment.

Enter Erminia veil’d with a thin Tiffany.

Lab. What’s the matter, Sir? Does the fit take you now?

Fal. Save us, save us, from the Fiend.

Lab. A Ghost, a Ghost! O, O, O!

[They fall shaking on the ground.

Er. This was a happy mistake, Now I may pass with safety. [Ex.

Fal. Look up, Labree, if thou hast any of that Courage thou spakest of but now.

Lab. I dare not, Sir, experience yours I pray.

Fal. Alas, alas, I fear we are both rank Cowards.

Lab. Rise, Sir, ‘tis gone.

Fal. This was worse than the fright Alcander put Me into by much.

[They rise and go out.

SCENE IX. Philander’s Apartments.

Enter Philander and Cleontius.

Phi. I know he’s fled to the Camp, For there he only can secure himself.

Cle. I do not think it, Sir.
He’s too brave to justify an Action
Which was the Outrage only of his Passion,
That soon will toil it self into a Calm,
And then will grow considerate again,
And hate the Rashness it provok’d him to.

Phi. That shall not serve his turn—go
Tell him I’ll get his Pardon of the King,
And set him free from other fears of Justice,
But those which I intend to execute.
If he be brave, he’ll not refuse this offer;
If not, I’ll do as he has done by me,
And meet his hated Soul by Treachery. [Cle_. goes out_.
—And then I’ve nothing more to do but die.
—Ah, how agreeable are the thoughts of Death!
How kindly do they entertain my Soul,
And tell it pretty tales of Satisfaction in the other world,
That I shall dwell for ever with Erminia?—but stay,
That sacred Spirit yet is unreveng’d,
—I’ll send that Traitor’s Soul to eternal Night,
Then mine shall take its so desired Flight. [Going out.

_Enter _Erminia, calls him.

Er. Return, Philander, whither wouldst thou fly?

Phi. What Voice is that? [Turns, sees her, and is frighted.

Er. ‘Tis I, my Prince, ‘tis I.

Phi. Thou—Gods—what art thou—in that lovely shape?

Er. A Soul that from Elysium made escape, [As she comes towards him, he goes back in great amaze. To visit thee; why dost thou steal away? I’ll not approach thee nearer than I may.

Phi. Why do I shake—it is Erminia’s form—
And can that Beauty ought that’s ill adorn?
—In every part Erminia does appear,
And sure no Devil can inhabit there.

[He comes on and kneels, one knocks, she steals back in at a door.

Alcan. [Within.] My Lord the Prince!

Phi. Ha—Oh Gods, I charge thee not to vanish yet! I charge thee by those Powers thou dost obey, Not to deprive me of thy blessed sight.

Er. I will revisit thee. [Ex.

Enter Alcander.

Phi. I’m not content with that. —Stay, stay, my dear Erminia.

Alcan. What mean you, Sir?
[He rises and looks still afrighted.

Phi. Alcander, look, look, how she glides away, Dost thou not see’t?

Alcan. Nothing, Sir, not I.

Phi. No, now she’s gone again.

Alcan. You are disorder’d, pray sit down a while.

Phi. No, not at all, Alcander; I’m my self,
I was not in a Dream, nor in a Passion
When she appear’d, her Face a little pale,
But else my own Erminia, she her self,
I mean a thing as like, nay, it spoke too,
And I undaunted answer’d it again;
But when you knockt it vanisht.

Alcan. ‘Twas this Aminta would persuade me to, And, faith, I laught at her, And wish I might have leave to do so now.

Phi. You do displease me with your Unbelief.

Alcan. Why, Sir, do you think there can indeed be Ghosts?

Phi. Pray do not urge my Sense to lose its nature.

Er. It is Alcander, I may trust him too. [She peeps in on them, and comes out.

Phi. Look where she comes again, credit thy Eyes, Which did persuade thee that they saw her dead.

Alcan. By Heaven, and so they did. [Both seem frighted. —Gods—this is wondrous strange! yet I can bear it, If it were the Devil himself in that fair shape.

Phi. And yet thou shakest.

Alcan. I do, but know not why. —Inform us, lovely Spirit, what thou art, A God—or Devil; if either, thou art welcome.

Er. You cannot think, Alcander, there be Ghosts. [She gives her hands to him and Phi. which they refuse to touch. No, give me your hand, and prove mine flesh and blood. —Sir, you were wont to credit what I said, And I would still merit that kind opinion.

Phi. Erminia, Soul of Sweetness, is it you? —How do you ravish with excess of Joys?

Er. Softly, dear Sir, do not express that Joy,
Lest you destroy it by your doing so.
I fly for sanctuary to your Arms;
As yet none knows I live, but poor Isillia,
Who bathing of my cold face with her tears,
Perceiv’d some signs of life, and us’d what means
Her Love and Duty did instruct her in;
And I in half an hour was so reviv’d,
As I had sense of all was past and done;
And to prevent a death I yet might fear,
If mad Alcippus had return’d again,
—Alone I came to you, where I could find
Alone my Safety too.

Phi. From Gods and Men, Erminia, thou art safe, My best and blest Erminia.

Er. Sir, in my coming hither I met Aminta, Who I may fear has alarm’d all the Court; She took me for a Ghost, and ran away, E’er I cou’d undeceive her. —Falatius too, afrighted even to death—

Alcan. Faith, that was lucky, Madam. —Hark, some body knocks, you’d best retire a little. [Leads her into the door.

Enter Galatea and Aminta lighted.

Gal. Ah, Brother, there’s such news abroad—

Phi. What, dear Sister, for I am here confin’d, And cannot go to meet it?

Gal. Erminia’s Ghost is seen, and I’m so frighted—

Phi. You would not fear it though it should appear.

Gal. Oh, do not say so; For though the World had nought I held more dear, I would not see her Ghost for all the World.

Alcan. But, Madam, ‘tis so like Erminia—

Am. Why, have you seen it too?

Alcan. Yes, Aminta.

Am. Then there be Ghosts, Alcander.

Phi. Aminta, we’ll convince him. [Phi. leads out Er. who comes smiling to the Princess.

Gal. But how, dear Creature, wert thou thus preserv’d?

Phi. Another time for that, but now let’s think
[Aminta embraces her.
How to preserve her still.
Since all believe her dead, but who are present,
And that they may remain in that blest error,
I will consult with you; but you, my dearest,
Shall as the Spirit of Erminia act,
And reap the glory of so good a part:
It will advance the new design I have;
And, Sister, to your care
I must commit the Treasure of my Life.

Gal. It was not kind, she came not first to me.

Er. Madam, I fear’d the safety of my Prince,
And every moment that I found I liv’d,
Were more tormenting than those of death,
Till I had undeceiv’d his Apprehensions.

Phi. ‘Twas like thy self, generous and kind, my Dear, Thou mightst have come too late else.

Er. But, Sir, pray where’s my Murderer? for yet A better name I cannot well afford him.

Gal. All that we know of him,
Pisaro now inform’d me,
Who came just as he thought he had murder’d thee,
And begg’d he would provide for his own safety.
But he who gave him sober promises,
No sooner found himself out of his arms,
But frantick and i’th’ dark he got away.
But out o’th’ Court he knows he cannot pass
At this dead time of night;
But he believes he is i’th’ Groves or Gardens,
And thither he is gone to find him out.

Alcan. This is no place to make a longer stay in, The King has many Spies about the Prince, ’.were good you would retire to your Apartment.

Gal. We’ll take your Counsel, Sir. —Good night, Brother.

Phi. Erminia, may thy Dreams be calm and sweet,
As thou hast made my Soul;
May nothing of the Cruelty that’s past,
Approach thee in a rude uneasy thought;
Remember it not so much as in thy Prayers,
Let me alone to thank the Gods for thee,
To whom that Blessing only was ordain’d.

And when I lose my Gratitude to Heaven,
May they deprive me of the Joys they’ve given.

[Exeunt.