The Works of Aphra Behn - BestLightNovel.com
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Sir _Char_. Sirrah, I say--know your Lord and Master.
_Will_. I shall, Sir. [_Goes out_.
L. _Gal_. Was ever Woman teaz'd thus? pursue me not.
Sir _Char_. You are mistaken, I'm disobedient grown, Since we became one Family; and when I've us'd you thus a Week or two, you will Grow weary of this peevish fooling.
L. _Gal_. Malicious thing, I wo'not, I am resolv'd I'll tire thee out merely in spite, to have the better of thee.
Sir _Char_. I'm as resolv'd as you, and do your worst, For I'm resolv'd never to quit thy House.
L. _Gal_. But, Malice, there are Officers i'th' City, that will not see me us'd thus, and will be here anon.
Sir _Char_. Magistrates! why, they shall be welcome, if they be honest and loyal; if not, they may be hang'd in Heaven's good time.
L. _Gal_. Are you resolv'd to be thus obstinate? Fully resolv'd to make this way your Conquest?
Sir _Char_. Most certainly, I'll keep you honest to your Word, my Dear-- I've Witness--
L. _Gal_. You will?
Sir _Char_. You'll find it so.
L. _Gal_. Then know, if thou darest marry me, I will so plague thee, be so reveng'd for all those Tricks thou hast play'd me-- Dost thou not dread the Vengeance Wives can take?
Sir _Char_. Not at all: I'll trust thy Stock of Beauty with thy Wit.
L. _Gal_. Death, I will cuckold thee.
Sir _Char_. Why, then I shall be free o'th' Reverend City.
L. _Gal_. Then I will game without cessation, till I've undone thee.
Sir _Char_. Do, that all the Fops of empty Heads and Pockets may know where to be sure of a Cully; and may they rook ye till ye lose, and fret, and chafe, and rail those youthful Eyes to sinking; watch your fair Face to pale and withered Leanness.
L. _Gal_. Then I will never let thee bed with me, but when I please.
Sir _Char_. For that, see who'll pet.i.tion first, and then I'll change for new ones every Night.
_Enter_ William.
_Will_. Madam, here's Mr. _Wilding_ at the Door, and will not be deny'd seeing you.
L. _Gal_. Hah, _Wilding_! Oh, my eternal Shame! Now thou hast done thy worst.
Sir _Char_. Now for a Struggle 'twixt your Love and Honour!
--Yes, here's the Bar to all my Happiness, You wou'd be left to the wide World and Love, To Infamy, to Scandal, and to _Wilding_; But I have too much Honour in my Pa.s.sion, To let you loose to ruin: Consider and be wise.
L. _Gal_. Oh, he has toucht my Heart too sensibly. [_Aside_.
Sir _Anth_. [_within_.] As far as good Manners goes I'm yours; But when you press indecently to Ladies Chambers, civil Questions ought to askt, I take it, Sir.
L. _Gal_. To find him here, will make him mad with Jealousy, and in the Fit he'll utter all he knows: Oh, Guilt, what art thou! [_Aside_.
_Enter Sir_ Anth. Wild, _and_ Dres.
_Dres_. Prithee, dear _Wilding_, moderate thy Pa.s.sion.
_Wild_. By Heaven, I will; she shall not have the Pleasure to see I am concern'd--Morrow, Widow; you are early up, you mean to thrive, I see, you're like a Mill that grinds with every Wind.
Sir _Char_. Hah, _Wilding_, this that past last Night at Sir Timothy's for a Man of Quality? Oh, give him way, _Wilding's_ my Friend, my Dear, and now I'm sure I have the Advantage of him in my Love. I can forgive a hasty Word or two.
_Wild_. I thank thee, _Charles_--what, you are married then?
L. _Gal_. I hope you've no Exception to my Choice.
[_Scornfully_.
_Wild_. False Woman, dost thou glory in thy Perfidy?
[_To her aside angrily_.
--Yes, Faith, I've many Exceptions to him-- [_Aloud_.
Had you lov'd me, you'd pitcht upon a Blockhead, Some spruce gay Fool of Fortune, and no more, Who would have taken so much Care of his own ill-favour'd Person, He shou'd have had no time to have minded yours, But left it to the Care of some fond longing Lover.
L. _Gal_. Death, he will tell him all! [_Aside_.] Oh, you are merry, Sir.
_Wild_. No, but thou art wondrous false, False as the Love and Joys you feign'd last Night.
[_In a soft Tone aside to her_.
L. _Gal_. Oh, Sir, be tender of those treacherous Minutes.
[_Softly to him_.
--If this be all you have to say to me-- [_Walking away, and speaking loud_.
_Wild_. Faith, Madam, you have us'd me scurvily, To marry, and not give me notice.
[_Aloud_.
--Curse on thee, did I only blow the Fire To warm another Lover?
[To her softly aside.
L. _Gal_. Perjur'd--was't not by your Advice I married?
--Oh, where was then your Love?
[_Softly to him aside_.
_Wild_. So soon did I advise?
Didst thou invite me to the Feast of Love, To s.n.a.t.c.h away my Joys as soon as tasted?
Ah, where was then you Modesty and Sense of Honour?
[_Aside to her in a low Tone_.
L. _Gal_. Ay, where indeed, when you so quickly vanquisht? [_Soft_.
--But you, I find, are come prepared to rail. [_Aloud_.
_Wild_. No, 'twas with thee to make my last Effort against your scorn.