The Works of Aphra Behn
Chapter 46 : _Aria._ Farewel, believing c.o.xcomb. [Enter _Lucia_._Lucia._ Madam, the Clothes are re

_Aria._ Farewel, believing c.o.xcomb. [Enter _Lucia_.

_Lucia._ Madam, the Clothes are ready in your Chamber.

_Aria._ Let's haste and put 'em on then. [Runs out.

ACT III.

SCENE I. _A House._

Enter _Fetherfool_ and _Blunt_, staring about, after them _s.h.i.+ft_.

_s.h.i.+ft._ Well, Gentlemen, this is the Doctor's House, and your fifty Pistoles has made him intirely yours; the Ladies too are here in safe Custody-- Come, draw Lots who shall have the Dwarf, and who the Giant.

[They draw.

_Feth._ I have the Giant.

_Blunt._ And I the little tiny Gentlewoman.

_s.h.i.+ft._ Well, you shall first see the Ladies, and then prepare for your Uncle _Moses_, the old _Jew_ Guardian, before whom you must be very grave and sententious: You know the old Law was full of Ceremony.

_Feth._ Well, I long to see the Ladies, and to have the first Onset over.

_s.h.i.+ft._ I'll cause 'em to walk forth immediately. [Goes out.

_Feth._ My Heart begins to fail me plaguily-- would I could see 'em a little at a Distance before they come slap dash upon a Man.

[Peeping.

Hah!-- Mercy upon us!-- What's yonder!-- Ah, _Ned_, my Monster is as big as the Wh.o.r.e of _Babylon_-- Oh I'm in a cold Sweat-- [_Blunt_ pulls him to peep, and both do so.

Oh Lord! she's as tall as the St. _Christopher_ in _Notre-dame_ at _Paris_, and the little one looks like the Christo upon his Shoulders-- I shall ne'er be able to stand the first Brunt.

_Blunt._ 'Dsheartlikins, whither art going? [Pulls him back.

_Feth._ Why only-- to-- say my Prayers a little-- I'll be with thee presently.

[Offers to go, he pulls him.

_Blunt._ What a Pox, art thou afraid of a Woman--

_Feth._ Not of a Woman, _Ned_, but of a She _Gargantua_, I am of a _Hercules_ in Petticoats.

_Blunt._ The less Resemblance the better. 'Shartlikins, I'd rather mine were a _Centaur_ than a Woman: No, since my _Naples_ Adventure, I am clearly for your Monster.

_Feth._ Prithee, _Ned_, there's Reason in all things--

_Blunt._ But villainous Woman-- 'Dshartlikins, stand your Ground, or I'll nail you to't: Why, what a Pox are you so quezy stomach'd, a Monster won't down with you, with a hundred thousand Pound to boot.

[Pulling him.

_Feth._ Nay, _Ned_, that mollifies something; and I scorn it should be said of _Nich. Fetherfool_ that he left his Friend in danger, or did an ill thing: therefore, as thou say'st, _Ned_, tho she were a Centaur, I'll not budg an Inch.

_Blunt._ Why G.o.d a Mercy.

Enter the _Giant_ and _Dwarf_, with them _s.h.i.+ft_ as an Operator, and _Harlequin_ attending.

_Feth._ Oh-- they come-- Prithee, _Ned_, advance-- [Puts him forward.

_s.h.i.+ft._ Most beautiful Ladies.

_Feth._ Why, what a flattering Son of a Wh.o.r.e's this?

_s.h.i.+ft._ These are the ill.u.s.trious Persons your Uncle designs your humble Servants, and who have so extraordinary a Pa.s.sion for your Seignioras.h.i.+ps.

_Feth._ Oh yes, a most d.a.m.nable one: Wou'd I were cleanlily off the Lay, and had my Money again.

_Blunt._ Think of a Million, Rogue, and do not hang an a.r.s.e thus.

_Giant._ What, does the Cavalier think I'll devour him? [To _s.h.i.+ft_.

_Feth._ Something inclin'd to such a Fear.

_Blunt._ Go and salute her, or, Adsheartlikins, I'll leave you to her Mercy.

_Feth._ Oh, dear _Ned_, have pity on me-- but as for saluting her, you speak of more than may be done, dear Heart, without a Scaling Ladder.

[Exit _s.h.i.+ft_.

_Dwarf._ Sure, Seignior _Harlequin,_ these Gentlemen are dumb.

_Blunt._ No, my little diminutive Mistress, my small Epitomy of Woman-kind, we can prattle when our Hands are in, but we are raw and bashful, young Beginners; for this is the first time we ever were in love: we are something aukard, or so, but we shall come on in time, and mend upon Incouragement.

_Feth._ Pox on him, what a delicate Speech has he made now-- 'Gad, I'd give a thousand Pounds a Year for _Ned's_ concise Wit, but not a Groat for his Judgment in Womankind.

Enter s.h.i.+ft with a Ladder, sets it against the Giant, and bows to _Fetherfool_.

_s.h.i.+ft._ Here, Seignior, Don, approach, mount, and salute the Lady.

_Feth._ Mount! why,'twould turn my Brains to look down from her Shoulders-- But hang't, 'Gad, I will be brave and venture.

[Runs up the Ladder, salutes her, and runs down again.

And Egad this was an Adventure and a bold one-- but since I am come off with a whole Skin, I am flesht for the next onset-- Madam-- has your Greatness any mind to marry?

[Goes to her, speaks, and runs back; Blunt claps him on the Back.

_Giant._ What if I have?

_Feth._ Why then, Madam, without inchanted Sword or Buckler, I'm your Man.

_Giant._ My Man? my Mouse. I'll marry none whose Person and Courage shall not bear some Proportion to mine.

_Feth._ Your Mightiness I fear will die a Maid then.