The Works of Aphra Behn Volume Iii Part 71

_Bel_. Hah--see, by Heaven _Leticia_, Oh, we are ruin'd!

Sir _Feeb_. Hum--what's here, two Women?-- [_Stands a little off_.

_Enter_ Leticia _and_ Phillis _softly, undrest, with a Box_.

_Let_. Where are you, my best Wishes? Lord of my Vows--and Charmer of my Soul? Where are you?

_Bel_. Oh, Heavens!-- [_Draws his Sword half-way_.

Sir _Feeb_. Hum, who's here? My Gentlewoman--she's monstrous kind of the sudden. But whom is't meant to? [_Aside_.

_Let_. Give me your hand, my Love, my Life, my All--Alas! where are you?

Sir _Feeb_. Hum--no, no, this is not to me--I am jilted, cozen'd, cuckolded, and so forth.-- [_Groping, she takes hold of Sir_ Feeb.

_Let_. Oh, are you here? indeed you frighted me with your Silence--here, take these Jewels, and let us haste away.

Sir _Feeb_. Hum--are you thereabouts, Mistress? was I sent away with a Sham-Plot for this!--She cannot mean it to me. [_Aside_.

_Let_. Will you not speak?--will you not answer me?--do you repent already?--before Enjoyment are you cold and false?

Sir _Feeb_. Hum, before Enjoyment--that must be me. Before Injoyment-- Ay, ay, 'tis I--I see a little Prolonging a Woman's Joy, sets an Edge upon her Appet.i.te. [_Merrily_.

_Let_. What means my Dear? shall we not haste away?

Sir _Feeb_. Haste away! there 'tis again--No--'tis not me she means: what, at your Tricks and Intrigues already?--Yes, yes, I am destin'd a Cuckold--

_Let_. Say, am I not your Wife? can you deny me?

Sir _Feeb_. Wife! adod, 'tis I she means--'tis I she means--[_Merrily_.

_Let_. Oh _Bellmour, Bellmour_.

[_Sir _Feeb_. starts back from her hands_.

Sir _Feeb_. Hum--what's that--_Bellmour_!

_Let_. Hah! Sir _Feeble_!--he would not, Sir, have us'd me thus unkindly.

Sir _Feeb_. Oh--I'm glad 'tis no worse--_Bellmour_, quoth a! I thought the Ghost was come again.

_Phil_. Why did you not speak, Sir, all this while?--my Lady weeps with your Unkindness.

Sir _Feeb_. I did but hold my peace, to hear how prettily she prattled Love: But, f.a.gs, you are naught to think of a young Fellow--ads bobs, you are now.

_Let_. I only say--he wou'd not have been so unkind to me.

Sir _Feeb_. But what makes ye out at this Hour, and with these Jewels?

_Phil_. Alas, Sir, we thought the City was in Arms, and packt up our things to secure 'em, if there had been a necessity for Flight. For had they come to plundering once, they wou'd have begun with the rich Aldermen's Wives, you know, Sir.

Sir _Feeb_. Ads bobs, and so they would--but there was no Arms, nor Mutiny--where's _Francis_?

_Bel_. Here, Sir.

Sir _Feeb_. Here, Sir--why, what a story you made of a Meeting in the Hall, and--Arms, and--a--the Devil of any thing was stirring, but a couple of old Fools, that sat gaping and waiting for one another's business--

_Bel_. Such a Message was brought me, Sir.

Sir _Feeb_. Brought! thou'rt an a.s.s, _Francis_--but no more--come, come, let's to bed--

_Let_. To Bed, Sir! what, by Day-light?--for that's hasting on--I wou'd not for the World--the Night wou'd hide my Blushes--but the Day--wou'd let me see my self in your Embraces.

Sir _Feeb_. Embraces, in a Fiddlestick; why, are we not married?

_Let_. 'Tis true, Sir, and Time will make me more familiar with you, but yet my Virgin Modesty forbids it. I'll to _Diana's_ Chamber, the Night will come again.

Sir _Feeb_. For once you shall prevail; and this d.a.m.n'd Jant has pretty well mortified me:--a Pox of your Mutiny, _Francis_.--Come, I'll conduct thee to _Diana_, and lock thee in, that I may have thee safe, Rogue.--

_We'll give young Wenches leave to whine and blush, And fly those Blessings which--ads bobs, they wish_.

[_Exeunt_.

ACT IV.

SCENE I. _Sir _Feeble's_ House_.

_Enter Lady_ Fulbank, Gayman _fine, gently pulling her back by the hand; and_ Ralph _meets 'em_.

L. _Ful_. How now, _Ralph_--Let your Lady know I am come to wait on her.

[_Exit _Ralph.

_Gay_. Oh, why this needless Visit-- Your Husband's safe, at least till Evening safe.

Why will you not go back, And give me one soft hour, though to torment me?

L. _Ful_. You are at leisure now, I thank you, Sir.

Last Night when I with all Love's Rhetorick pleaded, And Heaven knows what last Night might have produced, You were engag'd! False Man, I do believe it, And I am satisfied you love me not.

[_Walks away in scorn_.

_Gay_. Not love you!

Why do I waste my Youth in vain pursuit, Neglecting Interest, and despising Power?

Unheeding and despising other Beauties.

Why at your feet are all my Fortunes laid, And why does all my Fate depend on you?