The amorous prince, or, The curious husband a comedy / by Mrs. A. Behn.

SCENE III.

Enter Lorenzo Drunk, with a Page, and Musick as in the dark.

Lor.

Here's the door, begin and play your best, But let them be soft low Notes, do you hear?

[They Play.

Enter Antonio.

Ant.

Musick at my Lodgings, it is Alberto; Oh how I love him for't—if Clarina stand his Courtship, I am made; I languish between hope and fear.

Lor.

Stay Friend, I hear some body.

[Musick ceases.

Page.

'Tis no body Sir.

Enter Isabella.

Isab.

'Tis Lorenzo, and my Plots ripe;

[Aside.

Lorenzo being retir'd the while a little further▪

'Twill not sure be hard to get him, under pretence Of seeing Clarina, into my Chamber, And then I'le order him at my pleasure: Ismena is on my side, for I know all her secrets, And she must wink at mine therefore.

[She retires.

Lor.

Thou art in the right Boy, I think indeed 'twas nothing.

[Plays again.

Enter Alberto.

Alb.

She yields, bad woman! Why so easily won? By me too, who am thy Husbands friend▪ Oh dangerous boldness! uncconsidering woman, I lov'd thee, whilst I thought thou could'st not yield; But now that easiness has undone thy interest in my heart▪ I'le back and tell thee that it was to try thee.

Lor.

No, no, 'twas my fears, away with the Song, I'le take it on your word that 'tis fit for my purpose.

Fid.

I'le warrant you my Lord.

SONG.

IN vain I have labour'd the Victor to prove, Of a heart that can ne're give attendance to Love; So hard to be done, That nothing so young Could e're have resisted a passion so long.

Yet nothing I left unattempted or said, That might soften the heart of this pitiless Maid; But still she was shye, And would blushing deny, Whilst her willinger eyes gave her Language the lye.

Since Phillis, my passion you vow to despise, Withdraw the false hopes from your flattering eyes, For whilst they inspire A resistless vain fire. We shall grow to abhor, what we now do admire.

[Ex. Musick.

Alb.

What's this, and at Clarina's lodgings too? Sure 'tis Antonio impatient of delay, Gives her a Serenade for me.

Enter Isabella.

Isab.

'Tis the fool himself— My Lord, where are you?

Alb.

How, a womans voice! 'tis dark, I'le advance.

Lor.

Thou Simpleton, I told thee there was some-body.

Pag.

Lord, Sir, 'tis only Isabella that calls you.

Lor.

Away Sirrah, I find by my fears 'tis no woman,

[Goes out with the Page.

Isab.

Why don't you come, here's no body.

Alb.

Here I am.

Isab.

Where?

Alb.

Here.

[Gives her his Hand.

Isab.

My Lord, you may venture, Clarina will be Alone within this hour, where you shall entertain

Her at your freedom; but you must stay a while in my Chamber till my Lords a bed, For none but I must know of the favour she designs you.

Alb.

Oh gods! what language do I here— False and perfidious woman, I might have thought, Since thou wer't gain'd so easily by me, Thou wouldst with equal haste yield to another.

Isab.

It is not Lorenzo, what shall I do?

[She steals in.

Enter Lorenzo and Page.

Lor.

A Pox of all Damn'd Cowardly fear, Now did I think I had drunk Nature up to resolution; I have heard of those that could have dar'd in their drink, But I find, drunk or sober, 'tis all one in me.

Alb.

The Traytor's here, Whom I will kill who e're he be.

Lor.

Boy, go see for Isabella.

Boy.

I see a man should not be a Coward and a Lover At once—Isabella, Isabella, she's gone Sir.

[Calls.

Alb.

Yes villain, she's gone, and in her room Is one that will chastise thy boldness.

Lor.

That's a proud word though, who e're thou be, But how I shall avoid it, is past my understanding.

Alb.

Where art thou slave?

[Alberto gropes for him, he avoids him.

Pag.

Take heart Sir, here's company which I will Get to assist you—

[Enter Antonio!

Sir, as you are a Gentleman, assist a stranger set upon by Thieves.

[They fight, Antonio with Alberto, Alberto falls, is wounded.

[Lor. runs away the while.

Alb.

Who e're thou be'st that takes the Traytors part, Commend me to the wrong'd Antonio.

Ant.

Alberto! dear Alberto, is it thee?

Alb.

Antonio

Ant.

I am asham'd to say I am Antonio; Oh gods, why would you suffer this mistake?

Alb.

I am not wounded much, My greatest pain is my concern for thee; Friend thou art wrong'd, falsly and basely wrong'd;

Clarina whom you lov'd and fear'd, Has now betray'd thy Honour with her own.

Ant.

Without that sad addition to my grief, I should not long have born the weight of life, Having destroy'd thine by a dire mistake.

Alb.

Thou art deceiv'd.

Ant.

Alas, why was it not permitted me To lose my Friend, or Wife, had one surviv'd, I might have dy'd in silence for the other; Oh my Alberto! oh Clarina too—

[Weeps.

Alb.

Come, do not grieve for me, I shall be well, I yet find strength enough to get a way; And then I'le let thee know my fate and thine.

[Exeunt.