The Works of Aphra Behn Volume I Part 72

_Euph._ You're strangely impatient, Sir.

_Alon._ O you should like me the better for that, 'tis a sign of Youth and Fire.

_Euph._ But, Sir, before I let you see my Face--

_Alon._ I hope I must not promise you to like it.

_Euph._ No, that were too unreasonable, but I must know whether you are a Lover.

_Alon._ What an idle Question's that to a brisk young Fellow? A Lover!

yes, and that as often as I see a new Face.

_Euph._ That I'll allow.

_Alon._ That's kindly said; and now do I find I shall be in love with thine as soon as I see't, for I am half so with thy Humour already.

_Euph._ Are you not married, Sir?

_Alon._ Married!

_Euph._ Now I dread his Answer. [Aside.] Yes, married.

_Alon._ Why, I hope you make no Scruple of Conscience, to be kind to a married Man.

_Euph._ Now do I find, you hope I am a Curtezan that come to bargain for a Night or two; but if I possess you, it must be for ever.

_Alon._ For ever let it be then. Come, let's begin on any Terms.

_Euph._ I cannot blame you, Sir, for this mistake, since what I've rashly done, has given you cause to think I am not virtuous.

_Alon._ Faith, Madam, Man is a strange ungovern'd thing; yet I in the whole course of my Life have taken the best care I could, to make as few Mistakes as possible: and treating all Women-kind alike, we seldom err; for where we find one as you profess to be, we happily light on a hundred of the sociable and reasonable sort.

_Euph._ But sure you are so much a Gentleman, that you may be convinc'd?

_Alon._ Faith, if I be mistaken, I cannot devise what other use you can make of me.

_Euph._ In short this; I must leave you instantly; and will only tell you I am the sole Daughter of a rich Parent, young, and as I am told not unhandsom; I am contracted to a Man I never saw, nor I am sure shall not like when I do see, he having more Vice and Folly than his Fortune will excuse, tho a great one; and I had rather die than marry him.

_Alon._ I understand you, and you would have me dispatch this Man.

_Euph._ I am not yet so wicked. The Church is the only place I am allowed to go to, and till now could never see the Man that was perfectly agreeable to me: Thus veil'd, I'll venture to tell you so.

_Alon._ What the Devil will this come to? her Mien and Shape are strangely graceful, and her Discourse is free and natural. What a d.a.m.n'd Defeat is this, that she should be honest now!

[Aside.

_Euph._ Well, Sir, what Answer? I see he is uneasy. [Aside.

_Alon._ Why, as I was saying, Madam, I am a Stranger.

_Euph._ I like you the better for that.

_Alon._ But, Madam, I am a Man unknown, unown'd in the World; and much unworthy the Honour you do me-- Would I were well rid of her, and yet I find a d.a.m.nable Inclination to stay too.

[Aside.

Will nothing but Matrimony serve your turn, Madam? Pray use a young Lover as kindly as you can.

_Euph._ Nothing but that will do, and that must be done.

_Alon._ Must! 'slife this is the first of her s.e.x that ever was before-hand with me, and yet that I should be forc'd to deny her too.

[Aside.

_Euph._ I fear his Answer, _Olinda_. [Aside.

_Olin._ At least 'tis but making a Discovery of your Beauty, and then you have him sure.

_Alon._ Madam, 'tis a matter of Moment, and requires Deliberation; besides I have made a kind of Promise--

_Euph._ Never to marry?

_Alon._ No, faith, 'tis not so well: But since now I find we are both in haste, I am to be marry'd.

_Euph._ This I am sure is an Excuse; but I'll fit him for't.

[Aside.

To be marry'd said you?

That Word has kill'd me, Oh I feel it drill Through the deep Wound his Eyes have lately made: 'Twas much unkind to make me hope so long.

[She leans on _Olinda_, as if she swooned, who pulls off her Veil: he stands gazing at a Distance.

_Olin._ Sure she does but counterfeit, and now I'll play my Part. Madam, Madam!

_Alon._ What wondrous thing is that! I should not look upon't, it changes Nature in me.

_Olin._ Have you no pity, Sir? Come nearer pray.

_Alon._ Sure there's Witchcraft in that Face, it never could have seiz'd me thus else, I have lov'd a thousand times, yet never felt such joyful Pains before.

_Olin._ She does it rarely. What mean you, Sir?

_Alon._ I never was a Captive to this Hour.

If in her Death such certain Wounds she give, What Mischiefs she would do, if she should live!

Yet she must live, and live that I may prove Whether this strange Disorder here be Love. [To his heart.

Divine, divinest Maid. [Kneels.

_Olin._ Come nearer, Sir, you'll do a Lady no good at that Distance.

Speak to her, Sir.

[He rises and comes to her, gazing still.

_Alon._ I know not what to say, I am unus'd to this soft kind of Language: But if there be a Charm in Words, and such As may conjure her to return again; Prithee instruct me in them, I'll say any thing, Do any thing, and suffer all the Wounds Her Eyes can give.