The Works of Aphra Behn Volume Ii Part 59

_Wild_. So, I shall not answer to that Call.

L. _Gal_. He's going! Ah, Closet, my Fan!-- [_Lets fall her Fan just as he pa.s.ses by; he takes it up, and looks up_.

Cry mercy, Sir, I am sorry I must trouble you to bring it.

_Wild_. Faith, so am I; and you may spare my Pains, and send your Woman for't, I'm in haste.

L. _Gal_. Then the quickest way will be to bring it.

[_Goes out of the Balcony with_ Closet.

_Wild_. I knew I should be drawn in one way or other.

SCENE III. _Changes to a Chamber_.

_Enter L_. Galliard, Wilding, Closet. _To them_ Wilding, _delivers the Fan, and is retiring_.

L. _Gal_. Stay, I hear you're wondrous free of your Tongue, when 'tis let loose on me.

_Wild_. Who, I, Widow? I think of no such trifles.

L. _Gal_. Such Railers never think when they're abusive; but something you have said, a Lye so infamous!

_Wild_. A Lye, and infamous of you! impossible! What was it that I call'd you, Wise or Honest?

L. _Gal_. How can you accuse me with the want of either?

_Wild_. Yes, of both: Had you a grain of Honesty, or intended ever to be thought so, wou'd you have the impudence to marry an old c.o.xcomb, a Fellow that will not so much as serve you for a Cloke, he is so visibly and undeniably impotent?

L. _Gal_. Your Uncle you mean.

_Wild_. I do, who has not known the Joy of Fornication this thirty Year, and now the Devil and you have put it into his Head to marry, forsooth.

Oh, the Felicity of the Wedding-Night!

L. _Gal_. Which you, with all your railing Rhetorick, shall not have power to hinder.

_Wild_. Not if you can help it; for I perceive you are resolved to be a leud incorrigible Sinner, and marry'st this seditious doting Fool my Uncle, only to hang him out for the sign of the Cuckold, to give notice where Beauty is to be purchas'd, for fear otherwise we should mistake, and think thee honest.

L. _Gal_. So much for my want of Honesty; my Wit is the part of the Text you are to handle next.

_Wild_. Let the World judge of that by this one Action: This Marriage undisputably robs you both of your Reputation and Pleasure. Marry an old Fool, because he's rich! when so many handsome proper younger Brothers wou'd be glad of you.

L. _Gal_. Of which hopeful number your self are one.

_Wild_. Who, I! Bear witness, Closet; take notice I'm upon my Marriage, Widow, and such a Scandal on my Reputation might ruin me; therefore have a care what you say.

L. _Gal_. Ha, ha, ha, Marriage! Yes, I hear you give it out, you are to be married to me: for which Defamation, if I be not reveng'd, hang me.

_Wild_. Yes, you are reveng'd; I had the fame of vanquis.h.i.+ng where'er I laid my Seige, till I knew thee, hard-hearted thee; had the honest Reputation of lying with the Magistrates Wives, when their Reverend Husbands Were employ'd in the necessary Affairs of the Nation, seditiously pet.i.tioning: and then I was esteemed; but now they look on me as a monstrous thing, that makes honourable Love to you. Oh, hideous, a Husband Lover! so that now I may protest, and swear, and lye my Heart out, I find neither Credit nor Kindness; but when I beg for either, my Lady _Galliard's_ thrown in my Dish: Then they laugh aloud, and cry, who wou'd think it of gay, of fine Mr. _Wilding_? Thus the City She-wits are let loose upon me, and all for you, sweet Widow: but I am resolv'd I will redeem my Reputation again, if never seeing you, nor writing to you more, will do it. And so farewel, faithless and scandalous honest Woman.

L. _Gal_. Stay, Tyrant.

_Wild_. I am engag'd.

L. _Gal_. You are not.

_Wild_. I am, and am resolv'd to lose no more time on a peevish Woman, who values her Honour above her Lover. [_He goes out_.

L. _Gal_. Go, this is the n.o.blest way of losing thee.

_Clos_. Must I not call him back?

L. _Gal_. No, if any honest Lover come, admit him; I will forget this Devil. Fetch me some Jewels; the Company to night at Sir Timothy's may divert me.

[_She sits down before her Gla.s.s_.

_Enter_ Boy.

_Boy_. Madam, one, Sir Anthony Meriwill, wou'd speak with your Ladys.h.i.+p.

L. _Gal_. Admit him; sure 'tis Sir _Charles_ his Uncle; if he come to treat a Match with me for his Nephew, he takes me in a critical Minute.

Wou'd he but leave his whining, I might love him, if 'twere but in Revenge.

_Enter Sir_ Anthony Meriwill _and Sir_ Charles.

_Sir. Anth_. So, I have tutor'd the young Rogue, I hope he'll learn in time. Good Day to your Ladys.h.i.+p; _Charles_ [putting him forward] my Nephew here, Madam--Sirrah--notwithstanding your Ladys.h.i.+p's Commands-- Look how he stands now, being a mad young Rascal!--Gad, he wou'd wait on your Ladys.h.i.+p--A Devil on him, see if he'll budge now--For he's a brisk Lover, Madam, when he once begins. A Pox on him, he'll spoil all yet.

L. _Gal_. Please you sit, Sir.

Sir _Char_. Madam, I beg your Pardon for my Rudeness.

L. _Gal_. Still whining?-- [_Dressing her self carelesly_.

Sir _Anth_. D'ye hear that, Sirrah? oh, d.a.m.n it, beg Pardon! the Rogue's quite out of's part.

Sir _Char_. Madam, I fear my Visit is unseasonable.

Sir _Anth_. Unseasonable! d.a.m.n'd Rogue, unseasonable to a Widow?--Quite out.

L. _Gal_. There are indeed some Ladies that wou'd be angry at an untimely Visit, before they've put on their best Faces, but I am none of those that wou'd be fair in spite of Nature, Sir--Put on this Jewel here.

[_To_ Clos.

Sir _Char_. That Beauty needs no Ornament, Heaven has been too bountiful.

Sir _Anth_. Heaven! Oh Lord, Heaven! a puritanical Rogue, he courts her like her Chaplain. [_Aside, vext_.

L. _Gal_. You are still so full of University Complements--

Sir _Anth_. D'ye hear that, Sirrah?--Ay, so he is, indeed, Madam--To her like a Man, ye Knave. [_Aside to him_.