The Works of Aphra Behn, Volume II

Excerpt

ACT I.

SCENE I. A rich Chamber.

A Table with Lights, Abdelazer sullenly leaning his Head on his Hands: after a little while, still Musick plays.

SONG.

    _Love _in fantastick Triumph sat,
      Whilst bleeding Hearts around him flow'd,
    For whom fresh Pains he did create,
      And strange Tyrannick Pow'r he shewed;
    From thy bright Eyes he took his Fires,
      Which round about in sport he hurl'd;
    But 'twas from mine he took Desires,
      Enough t'undo the amorous World.

    From me he took his Sighs and Tears,
      From thee his Pride and Cruelty;
    From me his Languishments and Fears,
      And ev'ry killing Dart from thee:
    Thus thou, and I, the God have arrri'd,
      And set him up a Deity;
    But my poor Heart alone is harm'd,
      Whilst thine the Victor is, and free_.

[After which he rouzes, and gazes.

Abd. On me this Musick lost?—this Sound on me That hates all Softness?—What, ho, my Slaves!

Enter Osmin, Zarrack.

Osm. My gracious Lord—

[Enter Queen, Elvira.

Qu. My dearest Abdelazer—

Abd. Oh, are you there?—Ye Dogs, how came she in? Did I not charge you on your Lives to watch, That none disturb my Privacy?

Qu. My gentle Abdelazer, 'tis thy Queen, Who 'as laid aside the Business of her State, To wanton in the kinder Joys of Love— Play all your sweetest Notes, such as inspire The active Soul with new and soft Desire, [To the Musick, they play softly. Whilst we from Eyes—thus dying, fan the Fire. [She sits down by him.

Abd. Cease that ungrateful Noise. [Musick ceases.

Qu. Can ought that I command displease my Moor?

Abd. Away, fond Woman.

Qu. Nay, prithee be more kind.

Abd. Nay, prithee, good Queen, leave me—I am dull, Unfit for Dalliance now.

Qu. Why dost thou frown?—to whom was that Curse sent?

Abd. To thee—

Qu. To me?—it cannot be—to me, sweet Moor?—
No, no, it cannot—prithee smile upon me—
Smile, whilst a thousand Cupids shall descend
And call thee Jove, and wait upon thy Smiles,
Deck thy smooth Brow with Flowers;
Whilst in my Eyes, needing no other Glass,
Thou shalt behold and wonder at thy Beauty.

Abd. Away, away, be gone—

Qu. Where hast thou learnt this Language, that can say But those rude Words—Away, away, be gone? Am I grown ugly now?

Abd. Ugly as Hell—

Qu. Didst thou not love me once, and swore that Heav'n Dwelt in my Face and Eyes?

Abd. Thy Face and Eyes!—Baud, fetch me here a Glass,
                                                [To Elvira.
And thou shalt see the Balls of both those Eyes
Burning with Fire of Lust:
That Blood that dances in thy Cheeks so hot,
That have not I to cool it
Made an Extraction even of my Soul,
Decay'd my Youth, only to feed thy Lust?
And wou'dst thou still pursue me to my Grave?

Qu. All this to me, my Abdelazer?

Abd. I cannot ride through the Castilian Streets,
But thousand Eyes throw killing Looks at me,
And cry—That's he that does abuse our King—
There goes the Minion of the Spanish Queen,
Who, on the lazy Pleasures of his Love,
Spends the Revenues of the King of Spain—
This many-headed Beast your Lust has arm'd....