The Works of Aphra Behn Volume Iii Part 126

_Scar_. But we lose precious time, since you design me a kind Hour in your Chamber.

_Har_. Oh Traitor!

_Mop_. You'll be sure to keep it from _Harlequin_.

_Har_. Ah yes, he, hang him, Fool, he takes you for a Saint.

_Scar. Harlequin_! Hang him, shotten Herring.

_Har_. Ay, a Cully, a Noddy.

_Mop_. A meer Zany.

_Har_. Ah, hard-hearted _Turk_.

_Mop_. Fit for nothing but a Cuckold.

_Har_. Monster of Ingrat.i.tude! How shall I be reveng'd?

[_Scar, going over the Balcony_.

--Hold, hold, thou perjur'd Traitor.

[_Cries out in a Woman's Voice_.

_Mop_. Ha, discover'd!--A Woman in the Garden!

_Har_. Come down, come down, thou false perfidious Wretch.

_Scar_. Who in the Devil's Name, art thou? And to whom dost thou speak?

_Har_. To thee, that false Deceiver, thou hast broke thy Vows, thy lawful Vows of Wedlock. [_Bawling out_.

Oh, oh, that I shou'd live to see the Day. [_Crying_.

_Scar_. Who mean you, Woman?

_Har_. Whom shou'd I mean but thou,--my lawful Spouse?

_Mop_. Oh Villain! Lawful Spouse!--Let me come to her.

[Scar, _comes down, as_ Mopsophil _flings out of the Balcony_.

_Scar_. The Woman's mad--hark ye, Jade, how long have you been thus distracted?

_Har_. E'er since I lov'd and trusted thee, false Varlet.--See here, the Witness of my Love and Shame.

[_Bawls, and points to her Belly.

Just then_ Mopsophil _enters_.

_Mop_. How! with Child! Out, Villain! was I made a Property?

_Scar_. Hear me.

_Har_. Oh, thou Heathen Christian! was not one Woman enough?

_Mop_. Ay, Sirrah, answer to that.

_Scar_. I shall be sacrific'd.

_Mop_. I am resolv'd to marry to morrow--either to the Apothecary or the Farmer, Men I never saw, to be reveng'd on thee, thou termagant Infidel.

_Enter the_ Doctor.

_Doct_. What Noise, what Out-cry, what Tumult's this?

_Har_. Ha, the Doctor!--What shall I do?

[_Gets to the Door_, Scar. _pulls her in_.

_Doct_. A Woman! some Baud I am sure;--Woman, what's your Business here?

ha.

_Har_. I came, an't like your Seigniors.h.i.+p, to Madam the Governante here, to serve her in the Quality of a _Fille de Chambre_ to the young Ladies.

_Doct_. A _Fille de Chambre_! 'tis so, a she Pimp.

_Har_. Ah, Seignior-- [_Makes his little dapper Leg, instead of a Curt'sy_.

_Doct_. How now, what, do you mock me?

_Har_. Oh Seignior! [_Gets nearer the Door_.

_Mop_. Stay, stay, Mistress; and what Service are you able to do the Seignior's Daughters?

_Har_. Is this Seignior Doctor _Baliardo_, Madam?

_Mop_. Yes.

_Har_. Oh! he's a very handsome Gentleman--indeed.

_Doct_. Ay, ay, what Service can you do, Mistress?

_Har_. Why, Seignior, I can tie a Crevat the best of any Person in _Naples_, and I can comb a Periwig--and I can--

_Doct_. Very proper Service for young Ladies; you, I believe, have been _Fille de Chambre_ to some young Cavaliers?

_Har_. Most true, Seignior; why shou'd not the Cavaliers keep _Filles de Chambre_, as well as great Ladies _Valets de Chambre_?

_Doct_. Indeed 'tis equally reasonable.--'Tis a Baud. [_Aside_.

But have you never serv'd Ladies?