The Works of Aphra Behn Volume I Part 113
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_Page._ Shall we search his Breeches, an't please your Highness, for Pistol, or other Instruments?
_L. Lam._ No, Boy, we fear him not, they say the Powers above protect the Persons of Princes.
[Walks away.
_Lov._ Sure she's mad, yet she walks loose about, And she has Charms even in her raving Fit.
_L. Lam._ Answer me. What art thou?-- How shall I get my Servants hence with Honour? [Aside.
_Lov._ A Gentleman-- That could have boasted Birth and Fortune too, Till these accursed Times, which Heaven confound, Razing out all n.o.bility, all Virtue, Has render'd me the rubbish of the World; Whilst new rais'd Rascals, Canters, Robbers, Rebels, Do lord it o'er the Free-born, Brave and n.o.ble.
_L. Lam._ You're very confident, know you to whom you speak? but I suppose you have lost your Estate, or some such trivial thing, which makes you angry.
_Lov._ Yes, a trivial Estate of some five and twenty hundred Pound a Year: but I hope to see that Rogue of a Lord reduc'd to his Cobler's-Stall again, or more deserv'dly hang'd, that has it.
_L. Lam._ I thought 'twas some such Grievance-- but you must keep a good Tongue in your Head, lest you be hang'd for _Scandalum Magnatum_-- there's Law for ye, Sir.
_Lov._ No matter, then I shall be free from a d.a.m.n'd Commonwealth, as you are pleas'd to call it, when indeed 'tis but a mungrel, mangy, Mock-Monarchy.
_L. Lam._ Is it your business, Sir, to rail?
_Lov._ You rais'd the Devil, Madam.
_Page._ Madam, shall I call your Highness's Guards, and secure the Traitor?
_L. Lam._ No, that you may see how little I regard or fear him; leave us all-- [Ex. all but _Gill._ We'll trust our Person in his Hands alone-- --Now, Sir-- Your Bus'ness? [Smilingly approaches him.
_Lav._ Madam, I waited here by your Commands.
_L. Lam._ How shall I tell him that I love him, Gilliflower?
_Gill._ Easily, Madam, tell him so in plain _English_. Madam,'tis great; Women of your exalted height ever speak first; you have no Equals dare pretend to speak of Love to you.
_L. Lam._ Thou art i'th' right-- Do'st know my Quality, and thy own Poverty? And hast thou nothing to ask that I may grant?
_Lav._ Sure she loves me! and I, frail Flesh and Blood, Cannot resist her Charms; but she's of the d.a.m.n'd Party.
[Aside.
_L. Lam._ Are all your Party, Sir, so proud?
_Lov._ But what have I to do with Religion! Is Beauty the worse, or a kind Wench to be refus'd for Conventickling? She lives high on the Spoils of a glorious Kingdom, and why may not I live upon the Sins of the Spoiler?
[Aside.
_L. Lam._ Sir-- you are poor!
_Lov._ So is my Prince; a Plague on the occasion.
_L. Lam._ I think you are-- no Fool too.
_Lov._ I wou'd I were, then I had been a Knave, had thriv'd, and possibly by this time had been tugging for rifled Crowns and Kingdoms.
_L. Lam._ This Satir ill befits my present Bus'ness with you-- you-- want some Necessaries-- as Clothes, and Linen too; and 'tis great pity so proper a Man shou'd want Necessaries. _Gilliflower_-- take my Cabinet Key, and fetch the Purse of Broad-pieces that lies in the lower Drawer; 'tis a small Present, Sir, but 'tis an Earnest of my farther Service.
[_Gill._ goes out and returns with a Purse.
_Lov._ I'm angry, that I find one Grain of Generosity in this whole Race of Hypocrites.
[Aside.
_L. Lam._ Here, Sir,'tis only for your present use; for Clothes-- three hundred Pieces; let me see you sweet--
_Lov._ Stark mad, by this good Day.
_L. Lam._ Ah, _Gilliflower_! How prettily those Cavalier things charm; I wonder how the Powers above came to give them all the Wit, Softness, and Gallantry-- whilst all the great ones of our Age have the most slovenly, ungrateful, dull Behaviour; no Air, no Wit, no Love, nor any thing to please a Lady with.
_Gill._ Truly, Madam, there's a great Difference in the Men; yet Heaven at first did its part, but the Devil has since so over-done his, that what with the Vizor of Sanct.i.ty, which is the gadly Sneer, the drawing of the Face to a prodigious length, the formal Language, with a certain Tw.a.n.g through the Nose, and the pious Gogle, they are fitter to scare Children than beget love in Ladies.
_Lav._ You hit the Character of your new Saint.
_L. Lam._ And then their Dress, _Gilliflower_.
_Gil._ Oh! 'Tis an Abomination to look like a Gentleman; long Hair is wicked and cavalierish, a Periwig is flat Popery, the Disguise of the Wh.o.r.e of _Babylon_; handsom Clothes, or lac'd Linen, the very Tempter himself, that debauches all their Wives and Daughters; therefore the diminutive Band, with the Hair of the Reformation Cut, beneath which a pair of large sanctify'd Souses appear, to declare to the World they had hitherto escap'd the Pillory, tho deserv'd it as well as _Pryn_.
_L. Lam._ Have a care what you say, _Gilliflower_.
_Gil._ Why, Madam, we have no Informers here.
Enter _Page_.
_Page._ Madam, here's Old _Noll's_ Wife desires Admittance to your Hon-- your Highness.
_L. Lam._ Bid the poor Creature wait without, I'll do her what Good I can for her Husband's sake, who first infus'd Politicks into me, by which I may boast I have climb'd to Empire.
_Lov._ So, her Madness runs in that Vein I see. [Aside.
_Gil._ Alack, Madam, I think she's coming.
_Crom._ [without] Does she keep State in the Devil's Name, and must I wait?
_L. Lam._ Heavens! I shall be scandalized by the G.o.dly. Dear _Gilliflower_, conceal my Cavalier; I would not have a Cavalier seen with me for all the World-- Step into my Cabinet.
[Ex. _Gil._ and _Lov._
Enter L. _Cromwel_, held back by a Man-- to them _Gilliflower_.
_Crom._ Unhand me, Villain-- 'twas not long since a Rudeness, Sir, like this had forfeited thy Head.
_L. Lam._ What wou'd the Woman?
_Crom._ The Knave, the perjur'd Villain thy Husband, by th' Throat: thou proud, imperious Baggage, to make me wait; whose Train thou hast been proud to bear-- how durst thou, after an Affront like this, trust thy false Face within my Fingers reach? that Face, that first bewitch'd the best of Husbands from me, and tempted him to sin.
_Gil._ I beseech your Highness retire, the Woman's mad.
The Works of Aphra Behn Volume I Part 113
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The Works of Aphra Behn Volume I Part 113 summary
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