The Works of Aphra Behn Volume I Part 98

[Offers to go, but stops.

_Mar._ Hah, _Silvio_! unseen I'll hear the Business.

[Goes aside.

_Silv._ I would fain shun thee, but this impious Weight Of Love upon my Soul hinders my flight: I'm fixt-- like conscious Guilt it keeps me here, And I am now insensible of Fear.

Speak on, thou Messenger of sacred Love-- speak on.

_Franc._ The fair _Cleonte_, Sir, whose Soul's inflam'd No less than yours; tho with a virgin Modesty She would conceal it, pitying now your Pain, Has thro my Intercession--

_Silv._ Oh quickly speak! What Happiness design'd me?

_Franc._ To admit you, Sir, this Night into her Chamber.

_Mar._ Death to my Soul! What's this? [Aside.

_Silv._ Her Chamber? is that all? will that allay this Fever In my Blood?-- No, no, _Francisca_, 'Tis grown too high for amorous Parleys only; Her Arms, her charming Bosom, and her Bed, Must now receive me; or I die, _Francisca_.

_Franc._ I mean no other, Sir; why, can you think A Maid in love as much as you can be, a.s.sisted with the silence of the Night, (Which veils her Blushes too) can say-- I dare not?

Or if she do, she'll speak it faintly o'er, And even whilst she so denies will yield.

Go, go prepare your self for this Encounter, And do not dally as you did to day, And fright your Pleasure with the Name of Sister--

_Mar._ Oh cursed Witch! [Aside.

_Franc._ What say you, Sir?

_Silv._ That Name has check'd my Joy-- And makes it strangely silent and imperfect. [Walks away.

_Franc._ Why do you go, before you answer me?

[Follows him into the Garden.

_Mar._ I'll follow him, and kill them.

[Comes out with a Dagger.

Oh, who would be allied unto a Woman, Nature's loose Handy-Work? the slight Imploys Of all her wanton Hours?-- Oh, I could rave now-- Abandon Sense and Nature.

Hence, all considerate Thoughts, and in their Room, Supply my Soul with Vengeance, that may prove Too great to be allay'd by Nature, or by Love.

[Goes into the Garden after them.

Enter again _Silvio_ melancholy, followed by _Francisca_.

_Franc._ But will you lose this Opportunity, Her Lodgings too being so near your own?

_Silv._ h.e.l.l take her for her Wickedness.

Oh that ten thousand Mountains stood between us, And Seas as vast and raging as her l.u.s.t, That we might never meet-- Oh perfect Woman!

I find there is no Safety in thy s.e.x; No trusting to thy Innocence: That being counterfeit, thy Beauty's gone, Dropt like a Rose o'er-blown; And left thee nothing but a wither'd Root, That never more can bloom.

_Franc._ Alas, I fear I have done ill in this. [Aside.

_Silv._ I now should hate her: but there yet remains Something within, so strangely kind to her, That I'm resolv'd to give her one proof more, Of what I have vow'd her often; yes, I'll kill her--

_Franc._ How, kill her, Sir? G.o.ds, what have I done! [Aside.

_Silv._ Yes, can I let her live, and say I lov'd her?

No, she shall tempt no more vain yielding Men.

_Franc._ Consider, Sir, it is to save your Life she does it.

_Silv._ My Life!

'Twere better she and I were buried Quick in one Grave, than she should fall to this, She has out-sinn'd even me in this Consent.

Enter _Marcel_ from amongst the Trees softly with his Dagger behind _Silvio_.

_Mar._ Oh, here they are--

_Franc._ My Lord, defend your self, your are undone else.

_Silv._ Hah, _Marcel_! [Draws.

_Franc._ Help, help.

_Mar._ h.e.l.l take thy Throat.

Enter _Ambrosio_, _Clarinda_, _Cleonte_, and the rest of the House.

_Amb._ Hold, Villain, hold.

How dar'st thou thus rebel-- ungrateful Wretch?

_Mar._ This cause, Sir, is so just, that when you hear it, You'll curse me, that I let him live thus long: He loves my Sister, Sir; and that leud Woman Repays his l.u.s.tful Flame, and does this Evening Invite him to her Bed-- Oh, let me kill him.

[Offers to go to him.

_Amb._ That he should love _Cleonte_ I'll allow, And her returns too, whilst they are innocent.

_Mar._ But, Sir, he does not love her as a Sister.

_Amb._ If that be all his Crime, I still forgive him.

_Silv._ Yes, Sir, 'tis true, I do adore my Sister, But am so far from that foul thing he nam'd, That could I think I had a secret Thought That tended that way, I would search it-- thus-- [Goes to stab himself.

_Cleo._ What mean you by this Desperation?

_Silv._ Oh, take away this Woman from my sight.

[Pointing to _Cleonte_.

For she will finish what this has ill begun.

[Holds his Dagger up.

_Franc._ Thus low, Sir, for you Mercy I must kneel; [Kneels.

Which yet I must despair of, when you know How very very wicked I have been. [Weeps.

_Cleonte_, Sir, is chaste as Angels are.

_Silv._ My Sister innocent! how soon I do believe thee!