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The Works of Aphra Behn Volume Iii Part 17

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_Friend_. Lady, I am a Soldier--yet in my gentlest Terms I humbly beg to kiss your lovely Hands-- Death! there's Magick in the Touch.

By Heaven, you carry an Artillery in every part.

_Dia_. This is a Man indeed fit for my purpose. [_Aside_.

_Friend_. Nay, do not view me, I am no lovely Object; I am a Man bred up to Noise and War, And know not how to dress my Looks in Smiles; Yet trust me, fair one, I can love and serve As well as an _Endymion_, or _Adonis_.

Wou'd you were willing to permit that Service!



_Dia_. Why, Sir?--What cou'd you do?

_Friend_. Why--I cou'd die for you.

_Dia_. I need the Service of the living, Sir.

But do you love me, Sir?

_Friend_. Or let me perish, flying from a single Enemy.

I am a Gentleman, and may pretend to love you; And what you can command, I can perform.

_Dia_. Take heed, Sir, what you say, for I'm in earnest.

_Friend_. Command me any thing that's just and brave; And, by my Eyes, 'tis done.

_Dia_. I know not what you call just or brave; But those whom I do the Honour to command, Must not capitulate.

_Friend_. Let him be blasted with the Name of Coward, That dares dispute your Orders.

_Dia_. Dare you fight for me?

_Friend_. With a whole Army; 'tis my Trade to fight.

_Dia_. Nay, 'tis but a single Man.

_Friend_. Name him.

_Dia_. _Bellmour_.

_Friend_. Of _Yorks.h.i.+re_? Companion to young _Friendlove_, that came lately from _Italy_?

_Dia_. Yes, do you know him?

_Friend_. I do, who has oft spoke of _Bellmour_; We travel'd into _Italy_ together--But since, I hear, He fell in love with a fair cruel Maid, For whom he languishes.

_Dia_. Heard you her Name?

_Friend_. _Diana_, rich in Beauty, as in Fortune.

--Wou'd she had less of both, and more of Pity; And that I knew not how to wish, till now That I became a Lover, perhaps as unsuccessful. [_Aside_.

_Dia_. I knew my Beauty had a thousand Darts, But knew not they cou'd strike so quick and home. [_Aside_.

Let your good Wishes for your Friend alone, Lest he being happy, you shou'd be undone.

For he and you cannot be blest at once.

_Friend_. How, Madam!

_Dia_. I am that Maid he loves, and who hates him.

_Friend_. Hate him!

_Dia_. To Death.

_Friend_. Oh, me unhappy! [_Aside_.

_Dia_. He sighs and turns away--am I again defeated?

Surely I am not fair, or Man's insensible.

_Friend_. She knows me not-- And 'twas discreetly done to change my Shape: For Woman is a strange fantastick Creature; And where before, I cou'd not gain a Smile, Thus I may win her Heart. [_Aside_.

--Say, Madam, can you love a Man that dies for you?

_Dia_. The way to gain me, is to fight with _Bellmour_.

Tell him from me you come, the wrong'd _Diana_; Tell him you have an Interest in my Heart, Equal to that which I have made in yours.

_Friend_. I'll do't; I will not ask your Reason, but obey.

Swear e'er I go, that when I have perform'd it, You'll render me Possession of your Heart.

_Dia_. By all the Vows that Heaven ties Hearts together with, I'll be entirely yours.

_Friend_. And I'll not be that conscientious Fool, To stop at Blessings 'cause they are not lawful; But take 'em up, when Heaven has thrown 'em down, Without the leave of a Religious Ceremony. [_Aside_.

Madam, this House, which I am Master of, You shall command; whilst I go seek this _Bellmour_.

_Dia_. But e'er you go, I must inform you why I do pursue him with my just Revenge.

_Friend_. I will attend, and hear impatiently.

[_Exeunt_.

SCENE II. _A Baudy House_.

_Enter Mrs_. Driver _and_ Betty Flaunt.i.t.

_Flaunt_. _Driver_, prithee call for a Gla.s.s, that I may set my self in order, before I go up; for really my Knight has not been at home all this Night, and I am so confus'd--

_Enter one with a Gla.s.s, and two Wenches_, Jenny _and_ Doll.

Lord, Mrs. _Driver_, I wonder you shou'd send for me, when other Women are in Company; you know of all things in the World, I hate Wh.o.r.es, they are the pratingst leudest poor Creatures in Nature; and I wou'd not, for any thing, Sir _Timothy_ shou'd know that I keep Company, 'twere enough to lose him.

Mrs. _Driv_. Truly, Mrs. _Flaunt.i.t_, this young Squire that you were Sent to for, has two or three Persons more with him that must be accommodated too.

_Flaunt_. _Driver_, though I do recreate my self a little sometimes, yet you know I value my Reputation and Honour.

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