The Works of Aphra Behn
Chapter 21 : [Offers to fight. _Flor_. runs in._Flor._ Oh, hold! whoe'er you be, I do conjure y

[Offers to fight. _Flor_. runs in.

_Flor._ Oh, hold! whoe'er you be, I do conjure you hold.

If you strike here-- I die-- [To _Belv._

_Pedro._ _Florinda!_

_Belv._ _Florinda_ imploring for my Rival!

_Pedro._ Away, this Kindness is unseasonable.

[Puts her by, they fight; she runs in just as _Belv._ disarms _Pedro_.

_Flor._ Who are you, Sir, that dare deny my Prayers?

_Belv._ Thy Prayers destroy him; if thou wouldst preserve him.

Do that thou'rt unacquainted with, and curse him. [She holds him.

_Flor._ By all you hold most dear, by her you love, I do conjure you, touch him not.

_Belv._ By her I love!

See-- I obey-- and at your Feet resign The useless Trophy of my Victory. [Lays his sword at her Feet.

_Pedro._ _Antonio_, you've done enough to prove you love _Florinda._

_Belv._ Love _Florinda_!

Does Heaven love Adoration, Pray'r, or Penitence?

Love her! here Sir,-- your Sword again.

[s.n.a.t.c.hes up the Sword, and gives it him.

Upon this Truth I'll fight my Life away.

_Pedro._ No, you've redeem'd my Sister, and my Friends.h.i.+p.

_Belv._ Don _Pedro_!

[He gives him _Flor._ and pulls off his Vizard to shew his Face, and puts it on again.

_Pedro._ Can you resign your Claims to other Women, And give your Heart intirely to _Florinda_?

_Belv._ Intire, as dying Saints Confessions are.

I can delay my happiness no longer.

This minute let me make _Florinda_ mine:

_Pedro._ This minute let it be-- no time so proper, This Night my Father will arrive from _Rome_, And possibly may hinder what we propose.

_Flor._ Oh Heavens! this Minute! [Enter Masqueraders, and pa.s.s over.

_Belv._ Oh, do not ruin me!

_Pedro._ The place begins to fill; and that we may not be observ'd, do you walk off to St. _Peter's_ Church, where I will meet you, and conclude your Happiness.

_Belv._ I'll meet you there-- if there be no more Saints Churches in _Naples_.

[Aside.

_Flor._ Oh stay, Sir, and recall your hasty Doom: Alas I have not yet prepar'd my Heart To entertain so strange a Guest.

_Pedro._ Away, this silly Modesty is a.s.sum'd too late.

_Belv._ Heaven, Madam! what do you do?

_Flor._ Do! despise the Man that lays a Tyrant's Claim To what he ought to conquer by Submission.

_Belv._ You do not know me-- move a little this way.

[Draws her aside.

_Flor._ Yes, you may even force me to the Altar, But not the holy Man that offers there Shall force me to be thine. [_Pedro_ talks to _Callis_ this while.

_Belv._ Oh do not lose so blest an opportunity!

See-- 'tis your _Belvile_-- not _Antonio_, Whom your mistaken Scorn and Anger ruins. [Pulls off his Vizard.

_Flor._ _Belvile!_ Where was my Soul it cou'd not meet thy Voice, And take this knowledge in?

[As they are talking, enter _Willmore_ finely drest, and _Frederick_.

_Will._ No Intelligence! no News of _Belvile_ yet-- well I am the most unlucky Rascal in Nature-- ha!-- am I deceiv'd-- or is it he-- look, _Fred_.-- 'tis he-- my dear _Belvile_.

[Runs and embraces him. _Belv._ Vizard falls out on's Hand.

_Belv._ h.e.l.l and Confusion seize thee!

_Pedro._ Ha! _Belvile!_ I beg your Pardon, Sir.

[Takes _Flor._ from him.

_Belv._ Nay, touch her not, she's mine by Conquest, Sir. I won her by my Sword.

_Will._ Did'st thou so-- and egad, Child, we'll keep her by the Sword.

[Draws on _ Pedro_, _Belv._ goes between.

_Belv._ Stand off.

Thou'rt so profanely leud, so curst by Heaven, All Quarrels thou espousest must be fatal.

_Will._ Nay, an you be so hot, my Valour's coy, And shall be courted when you want it next. [Puts up his Sword.

_Belv._ You know I ought to claim a Victor's Right, [To Pedro.

But you're the Brother to divine _Florinda_, To whom I'm such a Slave-- to purchase her, I durst not hurt the Man she holds so dear.

_Pedro._ 'Twas by _Antonio's_, not by _Belvile's_ Sword, This Question should have been decided, Sir: I must confess much to your Bravery's due, Both now, and when I met you last in Arms.

But I am nicely punctual in my word, As Men of Honour ought, and beg your Pardon.

--For this Mistake another Time shall clear.

--This was some Plot between you and Belvile: But I'll prevent you. [Aside to _Flor._ as they are going out.

[_Belv._ looks after her, and begins to walk up and down in a Rage.