The Works of Aphra Behn - LightNovelsOnl.com
You're reading novel online at LightNovelsOnl.com. Please use the follow button to get notifications about your favorite novels and its latest chapters so you can come back anytime and won't miss anything.
L. _Ful_. Hah--my Husband do this?
_Gay_. He, by Love, he was the kind Procurer, Contriv'd the means, and brought me to thy Bed.
L. _Ful_. My Husband! My wise Husband!
What fondness in my Conduct had he seen, To take so shameful and so base Revenge?
_Gay_. None--'twas filthy Avarice seduc'd him to't.
L. _Ful_. If he cou'd be so barbarous to expose me, Cou'd you who lov'd me--be so cruel too?
_Gay_. What--to possess thee when the Bliss was offer'd?
Possess thee too without a Crime to thee?
Charge not my Soul with so remiss a flame, So dull a sense of Virtue to refuse it.
L. _Ful_. I am convinc'd the fault was all my Husband's-- And here I vow--by all things just and sacred, To separate for ever from his Bed. [_Kneels_.
Sir _Cau_. Oh, I am not able to indure it-- Hold--oh, hold, my Dear-- [_He kneels as she rises_.
L. _Ful_. Stand off--I do abhor thee--
Sir _Cau_. With all my Soul--but do not make rash Vows.
They break my very Heart--regard my Reputation.
L. _Ful_. Which you have had such care of, Sir, already-- Rise, 'tis in vain you kneel.
Sir _Cau_. No--I'll never rise again--Alas! Madam, I was merely drawn in; I only thought to sport a Dye or so: I had only an innocent design to have discover'd whether this Gentleman had stoln my Gold, that so I might have hang'd him--
_Gay_. A very innocent Design indeed!
Sir _Cau_. Ay, Sir, that's all, as I'm an honest man.--
L. _Ful_. I've sworn, nor are the Stars more fix'd than I.
_Enter Servant_.
_Serv_. How! my Lady and his Wors.h.i.+p up?--Madam, a Gentleman and a Lady below in a Coach knockt me up, and say they must speak with your Ladys.h.i.+p.
L. _Ful_. This is strange!--bring them up-- [_Exit Servant_.
Who can it be, at this odd time of neither Night nor Day?
_Enter_ Leticia, Bellmour, _and_ Phillis.
_Let_. Madam, your Virtue, Charity and Friends.h.i.+p to me, has made me trespa.s.s on you for my Life's security, and beg you will protect me, and my Husband-- [_Points at_ Bellmour.
Sir _Cau_. So, here's another sad Catastrophe!
L. _Ful_. Hah--does _Bellmour_ live? is't possible?
Believe me, Sir, you ever had my Wishes; And shall not fail of my Protection now.
_Bel_. I humbly thank your Ladys.h.i.+p.
_Gay_. I'm glad thou hast her, _Harry_; but doubt thou durst not own her; nay dar'st not own thy self.
_Bel_. Yes, Friend, I have my Pardon-- But hark, I think we are pursu'd already-- But now I fear no force.
[_A noise of some body coming in_.
L. _Ful_. However, step into my Bed-chamber.
[_Exeunt_ Leticia, Gayman _and_ Phillis.
_Enter Sir_ Feeble _in an Antick manner_.
Sir _Feeb_. h.e.l.l shall not hold thee--nor vast Mountains cover thee, but I will find thee out--and lash thy filthy and Adulterous Carcase.
[_Coming up in a menacing manner to Sir _Cau.
Sir _Cau_. How--lash my filthy Carcase?--I defy thee, Satan--
Sir _Feeb_. 'Twas thus he said.
Sir _Cau_. Let who's will say it, he lies in's Throat.
Sir _Feeb_. How, the Ghostly--hush--have a care--for 'twas the Ghost of _Bellmour_--Oh! hide that bleeding Wound, it chills my Soul!-- [_Runs to the Lady_ Fulbank.
L. _Ful_. What bleeding Wound?--Heavens, are you frantick, Sir?
Sir _Feeb_. No--but for want of rest, I shall e'er Morning. [_Weeps_.
--She's gone--she's gone--she's gone-- [_He weeps_.
Sir _Cau_. Ay, ay, she's gone, she's gone indeed.
[_Sir_ Cau. _weeps_.
Sir _Feeb_. But let her go, so I may never see that dreadful Vision --harkye, Sir--a word in your Ear--have a care of marrying a young Wife.
Sir _Cau_. Ay, but I have married one already. [_Weeping_.
Sir _Feeb_. Hast thou? Divorce her--flie her, quick--depart--be gone, she'll cuckold thee--and still she'll cuckold thee.
Sir _Cau_. Ay, Brother, but whose fault was that?--Why, are not you married?
Sir _Feeb_. Mum--no words on't, unless you'll have the Ghost about your Ears; part with your Wife, I say, or else the Devil will part ye.
L. _Ful_. Pray go to Bed, Sir.
Sir _Feeb_. Yes, for I shall sleep now, I shall lie alone; [_Weeps_.
Ah, Fool, old dull besotted Fool--to think she'd love me--'twas by base means I gain'd her--cozen'd an honest Gentleman of Fame and Life--
L. _Ful_. You did so, Sir, but 'tis not past Redress--you may make that honest Gentleman amends.
