The Works of Aphra Behn Volume Iv Part 42

_Alb._ Sure thou hast a design to make her hate me.

_Ant._ Do you think so in earnest, why, was she angry?

_Alb._ Oh! hadst thou seen her pretty blus.h.i.+ng Scorn, Which she would fain have hid, Thou wouldst have pitied what I made her suffer.

_Ant._ Is't possible!

And didst present her with the Box of Jewels?

_Alb._ Yes.

_Ant._ And kneel, and cry and swear, and--

_Alb._ All, all.

_Ant._ I hardly gave thee time for so much Courts.h.i.+p, --But you are sure she was displeased with it?

_Alb._ Extremely.

_Ant._ Enough, _Alberto_; adieu to thee and Friends.h.i.+p.

_Alb._ What mean you?

_Ant._ Ask your own Guilt, it will inform thee best.

_Alb._ Thou canst not think _Clarina_ has abus'd thee.

_Ant._ I do not think she has, nor have you try'd her; In that you have not only disoblig'd me, But now you would impose upon my Weakness --Did I not see how unconcern'd you were, And hardly paying her a due respect; And when she even invited thee to speak, Most rudely thou wert silent?

_Alb._ Be calm, _Antonio_, I confess my error, And hate that Virtue taught me to deceive thee; --Here, take my Hand,-- I'll serve you in good earnest.

_Ant._ And now I do believe thee, Go--thou shalt lose no time, I must away, My Soul's in torment, till I am confirm'd Of my _Clarina's_ Virtue; I do believe thou hast a generous Shame, For what thou'st said and done to me thy Friend.

For could I doubt thy Love, oh, how ridiculous This act of mine would seem!

But 'tis to thee, as to my Soul I come, Disputing every petty Crime and Doubt.

_Alb._ _Antonio_, if there need an Oath between us--

_Ant._ No, I credit thee; go in, And prithee dress thy Eyes in all their Charms; For this uncertainty disturbs me more, Than if I knew _Clarina_ were a--Wh.o.r.e.

[Exeunt severally.

ACT II.

SCENE I. The Apartment of _Frederick_.

Enter _Frederick_ with a Letter, and _Galliard_.

_Fred._ Not allow me to speak to her, say ye, 'tis strange; Didst say it was the Prince that sent thee?

_Gal._ My Lord, I did, but he says, he cares not for A thousand Princes.

_Fred._ I am resolv'd I will see this Woman; --Harkye, go back again and say-- [Whispers.

Enter _Lorenzo_ drunk.

_Lor._ Hah, the Prince--he must not see me In this pickle; for I would not lose my Reputation Of Wenching for this of Drinking; And I am sure I cannot be excellent at both, They are inconsistent.

_Gal._ I shall, my Lord. [Exit.

_Lor._ Your Highness's humble Servant.

_Fred._ Ha, ha, what, _Lorenzo_ in debauch?

_Lor._ Now my Tongue will betray me:-- Faith, my Lord, I have took six, but am come briskly off; By this hand, my Lord, I am c.o.c.k over five Stout Rogues too, I can tell you, at this sport.

_Fred._ I did not think thou hadst had that Virtue.

_Lor._ I'll tell you, Sir, 'tis necessary those of my Office and Quality should have more Virtues Than one to recommend them; But to tell you truth, for now I am most apt for that, I was drunk in mere Malice to day.

_Fred._ Malice, against whom, prithee?

_Lor._ Why, why, Sir, the humorous old Fellow, My Father, He will not hear reason from me when I am sober.

My Lord, you know _Curtius_ is an honest Fellow, And one of us too; My Sister _Laura_ is a good pretty Wench, He loves her, and she likes him; And because this testy old Blade has done himself, Do you think I can bring him to consider?

No, not for my Life, he won't consider, Sir; And now am I got drunk to see how that will edify him.

_Fred._ How! is _Laura_, the Mistress of _Curtius_, your Sister?

_Lor._ Yes, marry is she, Sir, at least by the Mother's side; And to tell you truth, We are too good-natur'd to believe _Salvator_ our Father.

_Fred._ Thy Sister, and Daughter to _Salvator_?

_Lor._ So said my Mother, but she was handsome; And on my conscience liv'd e'en in such another Debauch'd World as 'tis now, let them say What they will of their primitive Virtue.

_Fred._ May not I see this Sister of thine, _Lorenzo_?

_Lor._ Yes, by _Venus_, shall you, Sir, An she were my Mother.

_Fred._ But art sure thy Father will permit us?

_Lor._ My Father permit us!

He may do what he will when I am sober, But being thus fortify'd with potent Wine, He must yield obedience to my Will.

Why, my Lord, I'll tell you, I'll make him ask me blessing when I am in this Almighty Power.

_Fred._ And is thy Sister so very fine?