The Comedies of William Congreve Part 45

LADY TOUCH. So, that's safe.

MASK. And so may all your pleasures be, and secret as this kiss--

MEL. And may all treachery be thus discovered. [_Leaps out_.]

LADY TOUCH. Ah! [_Shrieks_.]

MEL. Villain! [_Offers to draw_.]

MASK. Nay, then, there's but one way. [_Runs out_.]

SCENE XVIII.

LADY TOUCHWOOD, MELLEFONT.

MEL. Say you so, were you provided for an escape? Hold, madam, you have no more holes to your burrow; I'll stand between you and this sally-port.

LADY TOUCH. Thunder strike thee dead for this deceit, immediate lightning blast thee, me, and the whole world! Oh! I could rack myself, play the vulture to my own heart, and gnaw it piecemeal, for not boding to me this misfortune.

MEL. Be patient.

LADY TOUCH. Be d.a.m.ned.

MEL. Consider, I have you on the hook; you will but flounder yourself a- weary, and be nevertheless my prisoner.

LADY TOUCH. I'll hold my breath and die, but I'll be free.

MEL. O madam, have a care of dying unprepared, I doubt you have some unrepented sins that may hang heavy, and r.e.t.a.r.d your flight.

LADY TOUCH. O! what shall I do? say? Whither shall I turn? Has h.e.l.l no remedy?

MEL. None; h.e.l.l has served you even as heaven has done, left you to yourself.--You're in a kind of Erasmus paradise, yet if you please you may make it a purgatory; and with a little penance and my absolution all this may turn to good account.

LADY TOUCH. [_Aside_.] Hold in my pa.s.sion, and fall, fall a little, thou swelling heart; let me have some intermission of this rage, and one minute's coolness to dissemble. [_She weeps_.]

MEL. You have been to blame. I like those tears, and hope they are of the purest kind,--penitential tears.

LADY TOUCH. O the scene was s.h.i.+fted quick before me,--I had not time to think. I was surprised to see a monster in the gla.s.s, and now I find 'tis myself; can you have mercy to forgive the faults I have imagined, but never put in practice?--O consider, consider how fatal you have been to me, you have already killed the quiet of this life. The love of you was the first wandering fire that e'er misled my steps, and while I had only that in view, I was betrayed into unthought of ways of ruin.

MEL. May I believe this true?

LADY TOUCH. O be not cruelly incredulous.--How can you doubt these streaming eyes? Keep the severest eye o'er all my future conduct, and if I once relapse, let me not hope forgiveness; 'twill ever be in your power to ruin me. My lord shall sign to your desires; I will myself create your happiness, and Cynthia shall be this night your bride. Do but conceal my failings, and forgive.

MEL. Upon such terms I will be ever yours in every honest way.

SCENE XIX.

MASKWELL _softly introduces_ LORD TOUCHWOOD, _and retires_.

MASK. I have kept my word, he's here, but I must not be seen.

SCENE XX.

LADY TOUCHWOOD, LORD TOUCHWOOD, MELLEFONT.

LORD TOUCH. h.e.l.l and amazement, she's in tears.

LADY TOUCH. [_Kneeling_.] Eternal blessings thank you.--Ha! my lord listening! O fortune has o'erpaid me all, all! all's my own! [_Aside_.]

MEL. Nay, I beseech you rise.

LADY TOUCH. [_Aloud_.] Never, never! I'll grow to the ground, be buried quick beneath it, e'er I'll be consenting to so d.a.m.ned a sin as incest! unnatural incest!

MEL. Ha!

LADY TOUCH. O cruel man, will you not let me go? I'll forgive all that's past. O heaven, you will not ravish me?

MEL. d.a.m.nation!

LORD TOUCH. Monster, dog! your life shall answer this! [_Draws and runs at_ MELLEFONT, _is held by_ LADY TOUCHWOOD.]

LADY TOUCH. O heavens, my lord! Hold, hold, for heaven's sake.

MEL. Confusion, my uncle! O the d.a.m.ned sorceress.

LADY TOUCH. Moderate your rage, good my lord! He's mad, alas, he's mad.

Indeed he is, my lord, and knows not what he does. See how wild he looks.

MEL. By heaven, 'twere senseless not to be mad, and see such witchcraft.

LADY TOUCH. My lord, you hear him, he talks idly.

LORD TOUCH. Hence from my sight, thou living infamy to my name; when next I see that face, I'll write villain in't with my sword's point.

MEL. Now, by my soul, I will not go till I have made known my wrongs.

Nay, till I have made known yours, which, if possible, are greater,--though she has all the host of h.e.l.l her servants.

LADY TOUCH. Alas, he raves! Talks very poetry! For heaven's sake away, my lord, he'll either tempt you to extravagance, or commit some himself.

MEL. Death and furies, will you not hear me?--Why by heaven she laughs, grins, points to your back; she forks out cuckoldom with her fingers, and you're running horn-mad after your fortune. [_As she is going she turns back and smiles at him_.]

LORD TOUCH. I fear he's mad indeed.--Let's send Maskwell to him.