The Works of Aphra Behn Volume Iii Part 108

_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 pa.s.s 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, 'Twere 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 G.o.ds for thee, To whom that Blessing only was ordain'd.

_And when I lose my Grat.i.tude to Heaven, May they deprive me of the Joys they've given_.

[_Exeunt_.

ACT V.

SCENE I. Galatea's _Apartments_.

_Enter_ Galatea, Erminia, Pisaro, Aminta.

_Gal_. And hast thou found him? Ease my misery.

_Pis_. I have, and done as you commanded me.

I found him sitting by a Fountain side, Whose Tears had power to swell the little tide, Which from the Marble Statues b.r.e.a.s.t.s still flows: As silent and as numberless were those.

I laid me down behind a Thicket near, Where undiscover'd I could see and hear; The Moon the Day supply'd, and all below Instructed, even as much as Day could do.

I saw his postures, heard him rave and cry, _'Twas I that kill'd_ Erminia, _yes 'twas I_; Then from his almost frantick Head he'd tear Whole handfuls of his well-becoming Hair: Thus would he, till his Rage was almost spent, And then in softer terms he would lament: Then speak as if _Erminia_ still did live, And that Belief made him forget to grieve.

--The Marble Statue _Venus_ he mistook For fair _Erminia_, and such things he spoke, Such unheard pa.s.sionate things, as e'en wou'd move The marble Statue's self to fall in love; He'd kiss its Breast, and say she kind was grown, And never mind, alas, 'twas senseless Stone; He took its Hand, and to his Mouth had laid it, But that it came not, and its stay betray'd it; Then would he blush, and all asham'd become, His Head declining, for awhile be dumb: His Arms upon his Breast across would lay, Then sensibly and calmly walk away; And in his walk a thousand things he said, Which I forgot, yet something with me staid; He did consult the nature of the Crime, And still concluded that 'twas just in him; He run o'er all his life, and found no act That was ungenerous in him, but this fact, From which the Justice took off the Disgrace, And might even for an act of Virtue pa.s.s; He did consult his Glory and his Pride; And whilst he did so, laid his grief aside; --Then was as calm as e'er he seem'd to be.

_Gal_. And all this while did he ne'er mention me?

_Pis_. Yes, Madam, and a thousand things he said, By which much Shame and Pa.s.sion he betray'd: And then 'twas, Madam, I stept in and gave Counsels, I thought him fittest to receive; I sooth'd him up, and told him that the Crime I had committed, had the case been mine.

I all things said that might his Griefs beguile, And brought him to the sweetness of a Smile.

--To all I said he lent a willing ear, And my reproaches too at last did hear.

With this insensibly I drew him on, And with my flatteries so upon him won, Such Gentleness infus'd into his Breast, As has dispos'd his wearied Soul to rest: Sleeping upon a Couch I've left him now, And come to render this account to you. [_Bows_.

_Gal_. _Pisaro_, 'twas the office of a Friend, And thou'st perform'd it to a generous end: Go on and prosper in this new design, And when thou'st done, the glory shall be thine.

[_Exeunt_.

SCENE II. _The Bedchamber of_ Alcippus.

_Draws off, discovers_ Alcippus _rising from the Couch_.

_Alcip_. I cannot sleep, my Soul is so unfurnish'd Of all that Sweetness which allow'd it rest.

--'Tis flown, 'tis flown, for ever from my breast, And in its room eternal discords dwell, Such as outdo the black intrigues of h.e.l.l-- Oh my fortune--

[_Weeps, pulling out his handkerchief, drops a Picture with a Gla.s.s on the reverse_.

--What's here? Alas, that which I dare not look on, And yet, why should I shun that Image here, Which I continually about me bear?

But why, dear Picture, art thou still so gay, Since she is gone from whom those Charms were borrow'd?

Those Eyes that gave this speaking life to thine, Those lovely Eyes are clos'd in endless darkness; There's not a Star in all the face of Heaven, But now out-s.h.i.+nes those Suns: Suns at Noon-day dispens'd not kindlier influence.

And thou blest Mirror, that hast oft beheld That Face, which Nature never made a fairer; Thou that so oft her Beauties back reflected, And made her know what wondrous power there lay In every Feature of that lovely Face.

But she will smile no more! no more! no more!

--Why, who shall hinder her? Death, cruel Death.

--'Twas I that murder'd her-- Thou lyest--thou durst as well be d.a.m.n'd as touch her, She was all sacred; and that impious Hand That had profanely touch'd her, Had wither'd from the Body.

--I lov'd her--I ador'd her, and could I, Could I approach her with unhallowed thoughts?

--No, no, I durst not-- But as devoutest Pilgrims do the Shrine.

--If I had done't, The G.o.ds who take the part of Innocence, Had been reveng'd-- Why did not Thunder strike me in the Action?

Why, if the G.o.ds be just, and I had done't, Did they not suffer Earth to swallow me, Quick--quick into her bosom?

--But yet I say again, it was not I, --Let me behold this face, That durst appear in such a Villany.

[_He looks in the gla.s.s_.

_Enter_ Pisaro, _and_ Erminia _drest like an Angel with Wings_.

_Pis_. Look where he is.

_Er_. Alas, I tremble at the sight of him.

_Pis_. Fear nothing, Madam, I'll be near you still.

_Er_. Pray stay a little longer.

_Alcip_.--My Face has Horror in't pale and disfigur'd, And lean as Envy's self-- My Eyes all b.l.o.o.d.y,--and my hanging lids Like Midnight's mischief, hide the guilty b.a.l.l.s, --And all about me calls me Murderer: --Oh horrid Murderer!