The Works of Aphra Behn, Volume 3 | Page 9

save that Life, To
which my own so nearly is ally'd.
Enter Friendlove.
Friend. So, forward Sister!
Bel. Ha, Friendlove!
Friend. Was it so kindly done, to gain my Sister Without my
knowledge?
Bel. Ah, Friend! 'Twas from her self alone That I wou'd take the
Blessing which I ask.
Friend. And I'll assist her, Sir, to give it you. Here, take him as an
Honour, and be thankful.
Bel. I as a Blessing sent from Heaven receive her, And e'er I sleep will
justify my Claim, And make her mine.
Friend. Be not so hasty, Friend: Endeavour first to reconcile your
Uncle to't.
Bel. By such Delays we're lost: Hast thou forgot? To morrow she's
design'd another's Bride!
Friend. For that let me alone t'evade.

Bel. If you must yet delay me, Give me leave not to interest such
Wealth without Security. And I, Celinda, will instruct you how to
satisfy my Fears. [Kneels, and takes her by the Hand. Bear witness to
my Vows-- May every Plague that Heaven inflicts on Sin, Fall down in
Thunder on my Head, If e'er I marry any but Celinda Or if I do not
marry thee, fair Maid.
Nur. Heartily sworn, as I vow.
Cel. And here I wish as solemnly the same: --May all arrive to me, If
e'er I marry any Man but Bellmour!
Nur. We are Witnesses, as good as a thousand.
Friend. But now, my Friend, I'd have you take your leave; the day
comes on apace, and you've not seen your Uncle since your Arrival.
Bel. 'Tis Death to part with thee, my fair Celinda; But our hard Fates
impose this Separation: --Farewel--Remember thou'rt all mine.
Cel. What have I else of Joy to think upon? --Go--go--depart.
Bel. I will--but 'tis as Misers part with Gold, Or People full of Health
depart from Life.
Friend. Go, Sister, to your Bed, and dream of him.
[Ex. Cel. and Nurse.
Bel. Whilst I prepare to meet this Fop to fight him.
Friend. Hang him, he'll ne'er meet thee; to beat a Watch, or kick a
Drawer, or batter Windows, is the highest pitch of Valour he e'er arriv'd
to.
Bel. However, I'll expect him, lest he be fool-hardy enough to keep his
Word.
Friend. Shall I wait on thee?

Bel. No, no, there's no need of that--Good-morrow, my best Friend.
Friend. But e'er you go, my dearest Friend and Brother, Now you are
sure of all the Joys you wish From Heaven, do not forgetful grow of
that great Trust I gave you of all mine; but, like a Friend, Assist me in
my great Concern of Love With fair Diana, your lovely Cousin. You
know how long I have ador'd that Maid; But still her haughty Pride
repell'd my Flame, And all its fierce Efforts.
Bel. She has a Spirit equal to her Beauty, As mighty and tyrannick; yet
she has Goodness, And I believe enough inclin'd to Love, When once
her Pride's o'ercome. I have the Honour To be the Confident of all her
Thoughts: And to augment thy Hopes, 'tis not long since She did with
Sighs confess to me, she lov'd A Man, she said, scarce equal to her
Fortune: But all my Interest could not learn the Object; But it must
needs be you, by what she said. This I'll improve, and so to your
Advantage--
Friend. I neither doubt thy Industry, nor Love; Go, and be careful of
my Interest there, Whilst I preserve thine as intirely here.
[Ex. severally.

SCENE III. Sir Timothy's House.
Enter Sir Timothy, Sham, Sharp, and Boy.
Sharp. Good morrow, Sir Timothy; what, not yet ready, and to meet Mr.
Bellmour at Five? the time's past.
Sir Tim.--Ay, Pox on't--I han't slept to Night for thinking on't.
Sham. Well, Sir Timothy, I have most excellent News for you, that will
do as well; I have found out--
Sir Tim. A new Wench, I warrant--But prithee, Sham, I have other
matters in hand; 'Sheart, I am so mortify'd with this same thought of

Fighting, that I shall hardly think of Womankind again.
Sharp. And you were so forward, Sir Timothy--
Sir Tim. Ay, Sharp, I am always so when I am angry; had I been but A
little more provok'd then, that we might have gone to't when the heat
was brisk, I had done well--but a Pox on't, this fighting in cool Blood I
hate.
Sham. 'Shaw, Sir, 'tis nothing, a Man wou'd do't for Exercise in a
Morning.
Sir Tim. Ay, if there were no more in't than Exercise; if a Man cou'd
take a Breathing without breathing a Vein--but, Sham, this Wounds,
and Blood, sounds terribly in my Ears; but since thou say'st 'tis nothing,
prithee do thou meet Bellmour in my stead; thou art a poor