The Works of Aphra Behn Volume I Part 59

_Will._ Hum, a Woman of Quality and jilt me-- Egad, that's strange now-- Well, who shall a Man trust in this wicked World?

Enter _La Nuche_ as before.

_La Nu._ This should be he, he saunters about like an expecting Lover.

[_Will._ peeping and approaching.

_Will._ By this Light a Woman, if she be the right-- but right or wrong so she be Feminine: harkye, Child, I fancy thee some kind thing that belongs to me.

_La Nu._ Who are you? [In a low tone.

_Will._ A wandering Lover that has lost his Heart, and I have shreud Guess 'tis in thy dear Bosom, Child.

_La Nu._ Oh you're a pretty Lover, a Woman's like to have a sweet time on't, if you're always so tedious.

_Will._ By yon bright Star-light, Child, I walk'd here in short turns like a Centinel, all this live-long Evening, and was just going (Gad forgive me) to kill my self.

_La Nu._ I rather think some Beauty has detain'd you: Have you not seen _La Nuche_?

_Will._ _La Nuche!_-- Why, she's a Wh.o.r.e-- I hope you take me for a civiller Person, than to throw my self away on Wh.o.r.es-- No, Child, I lie with none but honest Women I: but no disputing now, come-- to my Lodging, my dear-- here's a Chair waits hard by.

[Exeunt.

SCENE III. _Willmore's Lodging._

Enter _Harlequin_ with _Fetherfool's_ Clothes on his Shoulder, leading him halting by one Hand, _Blunt_ (drunk) by the other in the dark; _Fetherfool_ b.l.o.o.d.y, his Coat put over his Shoulders.

_Feth._ _Peano, Peano_, Seignior, gently, good _Edward_-- for I'll not halt before a Cripple; I have lost a great part of my agil Faculties.

_Blunt._ Ah, see the Inconstancy of fickle Fortune, _Nicholas_-- A Man to day, and beaten to morrow: but take comfort, there's many a proper fellow has been robb'd and beaten on this Highway of whoring.

_Feth._ Ay, _Ned_, thou speak'st by woful Experience-- but that I should miscarry after thy wholesom Doc.u.ments-- but we are all mortal, as thou say'st, _Ned_-- Would I had never crost the Ferry from _Croydon_; a few such Nights as these wou'd learn a Man Experience enough to be a Wizard, if he have but the ill luck to escape hanging.

_Blunt._ 'Dsheartlikins, I wonder in what Country our kinder Stars rule: In _England_ plunder'd, sequester'd, imprison'd and banish'd; in _France_, starv'd, walking like the Sign of the naked Boy, with _Plymouth_ Cloaks in our Hands; in _Italy_ and _Spain_ robb'd, beaten, and thrown out at Windows.

_Feth._ Well, how happy am I, in having so true a Friend to condole me in Affliction-- [Weeps.] I am oblig'd to Seignior _Harlequin_ too, for bringing me hither to the Mountebank's, where I shall not only conceal this Catastrophe from those fortunate Rogues our Comrades, but procure a little Alb.u.m Graec.u.m for my Backside. Come, Seignior, my Clothes-- but, Seignior-- _un Portavera Poco palanca_.

[Dresses himself.

_Harl._ Seignior.

_Feth._ _Entende vos Signoria Englesa?_

_Harl._ _Em Poco, em Poco_, Seignior.

_Feth._ _Per quelq arts_, did your Seigniors.h.i.+p escape Cudgeling?

_Harl._ _La art de transformatio._

_Feth._ _Transformatio_-- Why, wert thou not born a Man?

_Harl._ No, Seignior, _un vieule Femme_.

_Feth._ How, born an old Woman?

_Blunt._ Good Lord! born an old Woman! And so by transformation became invulnerable.

_Feth._ Ay-- in-- invulnerable-- what would I give to be invulnerable?

and egad, I am almost weary of being a Man, and subject to beating: wou'd I were a Woman, a Man has but an ill time on't: if he has a mind to a Wench, the making Love is so plaguy tedious-- then paying is to my Soul insupportable. But to be a Woman, to be courted with Presents, and have both the Pleasure and the Profit-- to be without a Beard, and sing a fine Treble-- and squeak if the Men but kiss me-- 'twere fine-- and what's better, I am sure never to be beaten again.

_Blunt._ Pox on't, do not use an old Friend so scurvily; consider the Misery thou'lt indure to have the Heart and Mind of a jilting Wh.o.r.e possess thee: What a Fit of the Devil must he suffer who acts her Part from fourteen to fourscore! No,'tis resolv'd thou remain _Nicholas Fetherfool_ still, shalt marry the Monster, and laugh at Fortune.

_Feth._ 'Tis true, should I turn Wh.o.r.e to the Disgrace of my Family-- what would the World say? who wou'd have thought it, cries one? I cou'd never have believ'd it, cries another. No, as thou say'st, I'll remain as I am-- marry and live honestly.

_Blunt._ Well resolv'd, I'll leave you, for I was just going to serenade my Fairy Queen, when I met thee at the Door-- some Deeds of Gallantry must be perform'd, Seignior, _Bonus Nochus_.

[Ex. _Blunt_.

Enter _s.h.i.+ft_ with Light.

_Feth._ Hah, a Light, undone!

_Harl._ _Patientia, Patientia_, Seignior.

_s.h.i.+ft._ Where the Devil can this Rogue _Hunt_ be? Just now all things are ready for marrying these two Monsters; they wait, the House is husht, and in the lucky Minute to have him out of the way: sure the Devil owes me a spite.

[Runs against _Harlequin_, puts out his Candle.

_Harl._ _Qui est la?_

_s.h.i.+ft._ 'Tis _Harlequin_: Pox on't, is't you?

_Harl._ Peace, here's _Fetherfool_, I'll secure him, whilst you go about your Affair.

[Ex. _s.h.i.+ft_.

_Feth._ Oh, I hear a Noise, dear _Harlequin_ secure me; if I am discover'd I am undone-- hold, hold-- here's a Door-- [They both go in.

Scene changes to a Chamber, discovers the _She-Giant_ asleep in a great Chair.

Enter _Fetherfool_ and _Harlequin_.

_Feth._ Hah-- my Lady Monster! have I to avoid _Scylla_ run upon _Carybdis_?-- hah, she sleeps; now wou'd some magnanimous Lover make good Use of this Opportunity, take Fortune by the Fore-lock, put her to't, and make sure Work-- but Egad, he must have a better Heart, or a better Mistress than I.

_Harl._ Try your Strength, I'll be civil and leave you.

[In _Italian_ he still speaks.

_Feth._ Excuse me, Seignior, I should crackle like a wicker Bottle in her Arms-- no, Seignior, there's no venturing without a Grate between us: the Devil wou'd not give her due Benevolence-- No, when I'm marry'd, I'll e'en show her a fair pair of Heels, her Portion will pay Postage --But what if the Giant should carry her? that's to be fear'd, then I have c.o.c.k'd and drest, and fed, and ventur'd all this while for nothing.

_Harl._ Faith, Seignior, if I were you, I wou'd make sure of something, see how rich she is in Gems.

_Feth._ Right, as thou say'st, I ought to make sure of something, and she is rich in Gems: How amiable looks that Neck with that delicious row of Pearls about it.

_Harl._ She sleeps.