The Works of Aphra Behn Volume Iv Part 119

_Oliv._ An a.s.signation from your perjur'd Mistress, Sir.

_Geo._ 'Tis well--you must obey the Summons; and wind her up to all the height of Love; then let her loose to Shame. I'll bring her Lover in the height of Dalliance, who, when he sees her Perfidy, will hate her.

_Oliv._ And then the lovely Man stands fair for me. [Aside.

_Geo._ Go write an Answer back--and wait her hour.

[Exeunt severally.

SCENE II. _The Dressing-Room. Discovers the _Prince_ at his Toylet, dressing. Musick and a Song._

Enter _George_, waits till the Song is ended. The _Prince_ sees him, comes to him with Joy, and falls about his Neck.

SONG, by Mr. _Gildon_.

I.

_Ah _Charmion!_ shroud those killing Eyes, That dart th' extremes of Pleasure, Else _Celidon_, though favour'd, dies As well as him that you despise, Though with this diff'rent measure: While lingring Pains drag on his Fate, } Dispatch is all th' Advantage of my State; } For ah! you hill with Love, as well as Hate._ }

II.

_Abate thy Luxury of Charms, And only Part discover; Your Tongue, as well as Eyes, has Arms To give a Thousand fatal Harms To the poor listening Lover: Thy Beams, like Glorys veil'd shou'd be, And like the Front of Heav'n, unseen, pa.s.s by; For to behold 'em, in full force, we die._

_Prince._ _Mirtilla_, O! I faint, I die with thy Beauty's Luxury! by Heaven, I'm all Rapture, Love, and Joy: Such a dear Night, _Lejere_!--Poets may fancy pressing G.o.ddesses, on downy Beds of Clouds--But oh, _Lejere_!--Those G.o.ds were never half so blest as I!

_Geo._ What pity 'twere to wake you from this Dream.

_Prince._ It is not in the power of Time nor Age: For even then _Mirtilla_ will have Charms! Oh, how she speaks! how well she'll grace a Story!

_Geo._ How gay her Wit! how movingly she writes!

_Prince._ I do believe she does. [A little seriously.

_Geo._ Would it displease you, should you see a Billet from her?

_Prince._ That's as it were directed. [Gravely.

_Geo._ You would not credit what you saw last Night.

_Prince._ Nor wou'd have lost that Night for all the Treasure the vast Ocean hides.

_Geo._ I wou'd not have a Man, so good and great, be made a Woman's Property--There, Sir.

[Gives him the Billet.

_Prince._ I'll not believe it her's; there are a thousand ways to ruin Innocence; if she be false--she's d.a.m.n'd. Confirm me, and of course I shall despise her. You cure me, when you shew her worth my Scorn.

_Geo._ Will you be rul'd then, and believe it Friends.h.i.+p in me?

_Prince._ I will.

_Geo._ Give her, by Absence, but an Opportunity; feign some Excuse to leave the Town to day.

_Prince._ See where she comes--

Enter _Mirtilla_.

Adorn'd with all the beauteous Wonders of her s.e.x. The G.o.ds of Love are playing in her Eyes, and give us Wounds from ev'ry graceful Motion. Ah, my _Mirtilla_! how shall I support the Absence of a many coming Hours, that languish, being from thee but a Moment?

_Mir._ I hope, my Lord, Fate is not so unkind, to let me live without you many Hours.

_Prince._ Can all this be dissembl'd? [Aside to _George_.

_Geo._ How much more have I heard? yet all was false.

_Prince._ I must this Day--this tedious live-long Day, be absent from thy Sight--but shall be back i'th' Evening: I'll leave _Lejere_ to wait on your Commands.

_Mir._ _Lejere_ shall ever, Sir, be dear to me--But I'll retire, and sigh till your Return--that World affords no Pleasure where you are not.

_Prince._ Do you hear that, Sir? [Aside to _George_.

Till Night, thou dearest Blessing of my Life--Adieu.

[_Mirtilla_ going out, pulls _Lejere_ by the Sleeve.

_Mir._ Thou little, mischievous informing Thing, how vainly hast thou lavish'd out Invention!

[Smiling. [Exit.

_Prince._ By Heaven, methinks 'twere Sin but to suspect her.

_Geo._ Think so; I'll trouble your Repose no more: I've done my Duty, and I wou'd not see you made a--

_Prince._ Property--Ha--A loath'd convenient Tool--A Woman's Implement--'Sdeath! she that off--Loose to the nasty Love of every Fool, that will be flatter'd, cozen'd, jilted, cuckolded--No more--I will, unseen, convey my self into the Closet in my Dressing-Room; 'tis near her Bed--and if I find her wanton--

_Geo._ If you find her--the Youth is waiting now that shall convince you.

_Prince._ Where?--Oh, set the happy Slave but in my View, and--

_Geo._ No, faith, Sir, be convinc'd before you strike, for fear she jilt you out of Sense and Reason--

_Prince._ Come to my Closet, from thence we may observe all that pa.s.ses in her Chamber; from whence I'll break upon the perjur'd Fair, like Thunder from a Cloud, and more destructive.

[Exeunt.

SCENE III. A Chamber. Draws and discovers _Mirtilla_ and _Manage_.

_Mir._ Is the Prince gone?