The Works of Aphra Behn Volume Iv Part 84

_Bac._ 'Tis not with Women, Sir, nor honest men like you, that I intend to combat; not their own Parents shall be more indulgent, nor better Safe-guard to their Honours, Sir: But 'tis to save the expence of Blood I seize on their most valued Prizes.

_Down._ But, Sir, I know your wild Lieutenant General has long lov'd my _Chrisante_, and perhaps, will take this time to force her to consent.

_Dar._ I own I have a Pa.s.sion for _Chrisante_, yet by my General's Life, or her fair self, what now I act is on the score of War, I scorn to force the Maid I do adore.

_Bac._ Believe me, Ladies, you shall have honourable Treatment here.

_Chris._ We do not doubt it, Sir, either from you or _Daring_; if he love me, that will secure my Honour; or if he do not, he's too brave to injure me.

_Dar._ I thank you for your just opinion of me, Madam.

_Chris._ But, Sir, 'tis for my Father I must plead; to see his reverend Hands in servile Chains; and then perhaps, if stubborn to your Will, his Head must fall a Victim to your Anger.

_Down._ No, my good pious Girl, I cannot fear ign.o.ble usage from the General; and if thy Beauty can preserve thy Fame, I shall not mourn in my Captivity.

_Bac._ I'll ne'er deceive your kind opinion of me--Ladies, I hope you're all of that Opinion too.

_Sure._ If seizing us, Sir, can advance your Honour, or be of any use considerable to you, I shall be proud of such a Slavery.

Mrs. _Whim._ I hope, Sir, we shan't be ravish'd in your Camp.

_Dar._ Fie, Mrs. _Whimsey_, do Soldiers use to ravish?

Mrs. _Whiff._ Ravis.h.!.+ marry, I fear 'em not, I'd have 'em know, I scorn to be ravish'd by any Man.

_Fear._ Ay, o' my Conscience, Mrs. _Whiff_, you are too good-natur'd.

_Dar._ Madam, I hope you'll give me leave to name Love to you, and try by all submissive ways to win your Heart.

_Chris._ Do your worst, Sir: I give you leave, if you a.s.sail me only with your Tongue.

_Dar._ That's generous and brave, and I'll requite it.

Enter _Soldier_ in haste.

_Sold._ The Truce being ended, Sir, the _Indians_ grow so insolent as to attack us even in our Camp, and have killed several of our Men.

_Bac._ 'Tis time to check their Boldness; _Daring_, haste, draw up our Men in order to give 'em Battel, I rather had expected their submission.

_The Country now may see what they're to fear, Since we that are in Arms are not secure._

[Exeunt, leading the Ladies.

ACT IV.

SCENE I. _A Temple, with an _Indian_ G.o.d placed upon it, Priests and Priestesses attending: Enter _Indian King_ on one side attended by _Indian_ Men; the _Queen_ enters on the other with Women. All bow to the Idol, and divide on each side of the Stage. Then the Musick playing louder, the Priests and Priestesses dance about the Idol with ridiculous Postures, and crying (as for Incantations) thrice repeated, _Agah Yerkin, Agah Boah, Sulen Tawarapah, Sulen Tawarapah_._

_After this soft Musick plays again: then they sing something fine: after which the Priests lead the _King_ to the Altar, and the Priestesses the _Queen_; they take off little Crowns from their Heads, and offer them at the Altar._

_King._ Invoke the G.o.d of our Quiocto to declare what the Event shall be of this our last War against the _English_ General.

[Soft Musick ceases.

[The Musick changes to confused Tunes, to which the Priests and Priestesses dance, antickly singing between, the same Incantation as before; and then dance again, and so invoke again alternately: Which Dance ended, a Voice behind the Altar cries, while soft Musick plays,

The _English_ General shall be A Captive to his Enemy; And you from all your Toils be freed, When by your Hand the Foe shall bleed: And e'er the Sun's swift course be run, This mighty Conquest shall be won.

_King._ I thank the G.o.ds for taking care of us; prepare new Sacrifice against the Evening, when I return a Conqueror, I will my self perform the Office of a Priest.

_Queen._ Oh, Sir, I fear you'll fall a Victim first.

_King._ What means _Semernia_? why are thy Looks so pale?

_Queen._ Alas, the Oracles have double meanings, their Sense is doubtful, and their Words Enigmas: I fear, Sir, I cou'd make a truer Interpretation.

_King._ How, _Semernia_! by all thy Love I charge thee, as you respect my Life, to let me know your Thoughts.

_Queen._ Last Night I dream'd a Lyon fell with hunger, spite of your Guards, slew you, and bore you hence.

_King._ This is thy s.e.x's fear, and no Interpretation of the Oracle.

_Queen._ I cou'd convince you farther.

_King._ Hast thou a Secret thou canst keep from me? thy Soul a Thought that I must be a Stranger to? This is not like the Justice of _Semernia_: Come unriddle me the Oracle.

_Queen._ The _English_ General shall be a Captive to his Enemy; he is so, Sir, already, to my Beauty, he says he languishes for Love of me.

_King._ Hah! the General my Rival--but go on--

_Queen._ And you from all your War be freed: Oh, let me not explain that fatal Line, for fear it mean, you shall be freed by Death.

_King._ What, when by my Hand the Foe shall bleed?--away--it cannot be--

_Queen._ No doubt, my Lord, you'll bravely sell your Life, and deal some Wounds where you'll receive so many.

_King._ 'Tis Love, _Semernia_, makes thee dream while waking:

I'll trust the G.o.ds, and am resolv'd for Battel.

Enter an _Indian_.

_Ind._ Haste, haste, great Sir, to Arms; _Bacon_ with all his Forces is prepar'd, and both the Armies ready to engage.

_King._ Haste to my General, bid him charge 'em instantly; I'll bring up the Supplies of stout _Teroomians_, those so well skill'd in the envenom'd Arrow.

[Ex. _Indian_.