The Works of Aphra Behn - LightNovelsOnl.com
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_Phi_. Not for the world, _Erminia_, My Innocence shall be my guard and thine.
_Er_. Upon my knees I'll beg you'll be conceal'd, [_A noise_.
He comes; _Philander_, for my safety go.
_Phi_. I never did obey with more regret.
[_He hides himself behind the Bed, and in haste leaves his Sword and Hat on the Table_; Alcippus _comes in_.
_Alcip_. How now, _Erminia_?
How comes it you are up so late?
_Er_. I found my self not much inclin'd to sleep; I hope 'tis no offence.
Why do you look so wildly round about you?
_Alcip_. Methinks, _Erminia_, you are much confus'd.
_Er_. Alas, you cannot blame me; _Isillia_ tells me you were much inrag'd Against a Lover she was entertaining.
_Alcip_. A Lover--was that a time for Courts.h.i.+p?
Such Actions, Madam, will reflect on you.
[Isillia _goes to take the Hat and Sword and slide into her lap, which he sees, calls to her_.
--What have you there, _Isillia_?
Come back, and let me see what 'tis.
[_He takes them from her_.
--Ha--a Sword and Hat--_Erminia_, whose be these?
_Er_. Why do you ask--
_Alcip_. To be inform'd, is that so great a wonder?
_Er_. They be my Father's, Sir--
_Alcip_. Was that well said, _Erminia_?--speak again.
_Er_. What is't you would know?
_Alcip_. The truth, _Erminia_, 'twould become you best.
Do you think I take these things to be your Father's?
No, treacherous Woman, I have seen this Sword, [_Draws the Sword_.
Worn by a Man more vigorous than thy Father, It had not else been here.
--Where have you hid this mighty Man of valour?
Have you exhausted so his stock of Courage, He has not any left t'appear withal?
_Phi_. Yes, base _Alcippus_, I have still that Courage, Th'effects of which thou hast beheld with wonder; And now being fortified by Innocence, Thou't find sufficient to chastise thy boldness: Restore my Sword, and prove the truth of this.
_Alcip_. I've hardly so much Calmness left to answer thee, And tell thee, Prince, thou art deceiv'd in me.
--I know 'tis just I should restore thy Sword, But thou hast show'd the basest of thy play, And I'll return th'uncivil Treachery; You merit Death for this base Injury.
But you're my Prince, and that I own you so, Is all remains in me of Sense or Justice; The rest is Rage, which if thou gett'st not hence Will eat up that small morsel too of Reason, And leave me nothing to preserve thy life with.
_Phi_. G.o.ds, am I tame, and hear the Traytor brave me?
[_Offers to run into him_.
I have resentment left, though nothing else.
_Alcip_. Stand off, by all that's good, I'll kill thee else.
[Er. _puts her self between_.
_Er_. Ah, hold, Sir, hold, the Prince has no defence, And you are more than arm'd; [_To_ Alcip.
What honour is't to let him murder you? [_To the_ Prince.
--Nor would your Fame be lessen'd by retreat.
_Phi_. Alas, I dare not leave thee here with him.
_Er_. Trust me, Sir, I can make him calm again.
_Alcip_. She counsels well, and I advise you take it.
_Phi_. I will, but not for fear of thee or Death, But from th'a.s.surance that her Power's sufficient To allay this unbecoming Fury in thee, And bring thee to repentance.
[_He gives him his Sword_; Philander _goes out_, Alcippus _locks the door after him_.
_Er. Alcippus_, what do you mean?
_Alcip_. To know where 'twas you learn'd this Impudence?
Which you're too cunning in, Not to have been a stale pract.i.tioner.
_Er_. Alas, what will you do?
_Alcip_. Preserve thy Soul, if thou hast any sense Of future Joys, after this vile d.a.m.n'd Action.
_Er_. Ah, what have I done?
_Alcip_. That which if I should let thee live, _Erminia_, Would never suffer thee to look abroad again.
--Thou'st made thy self and me-- Oh, I dare not name the Monsters.-- But I'll destroy them while the G.o.ds look down, And smile upon my Justice.
[_He strangles her with a Garter, which he s.n.a.t.c.hes from his Leg, or smothers her with a pillow_.
_Er_. Hold, hold, and hear my Vows of Innocence.
_Alcip_. Let me be d.a.m.n'd as thou art, if I do; [_Throws her on a Bed, he sits down in a Chair_.
--So now, my Heart, I have redeem'd thee n.o.bly, Sit down and pause a while-- But why so still and tame, is one poor Murder Enough to satisfy thy storm of Pa.s.sion?
If it were just, it ought not here to end; --If not--I've done too much--
[_One knocks, he rises after a little pause, and opens the door; enter_ Page.
_Page_. My Lord, _Pisaro_--
_Alcip. Pisaro_,--Oh, that Name has wakened me, A Name till now had never Terror in't!