The Maids Tragedy. Beaumont Francis

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The Maids Tragedy - Beaumont Francis


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sounds it like the coyness of a Bride.

      Amin. Is flesh so earthly to endure all this?

                       Are these the joyes of Marriage? Hymen keep

                       This story (that will make succeeding youth

                       Neglect thy Ceremonies) from all ears.

                       Let it not rise up for thy shame and mine

                       To after ages; we will scorn thy Laws,

                       If thou no better bless them; touch the heart

                       Of her that thou hast sent me, or the world

                       Shall know there's not an Altar that will smoak

                       In praise of thee; we will adopt us Sons;

                       Then vertue shall inherit, and not blood:

                       If we do lust, we'l take the next we meet,

                       Serving our selves as other Creatures do,

                       And never take note of the Female more,

                       Nor of her issue. I do rage in vain,

                       She can but jest; Oh! pardon me my Love;

                       So dear the thoughts are that I hold of thee,

                       That I must break forth; satisfie my fear:

                       It is a pain beyond the hand of death,

                       To be in doubt; confirm it with an Oath, if this be true.

      Evad. Do you invent the form:

                        Let there be in it all the binding words

                        Devils and Conjurers can put together,

                        And I will take it; I have sworn before,

                        And here by all things holy do again,

                        Never to be acquainted with thy bed.

                        Is your doubt over now?

      Amint. I know too much, would I had doubted still;

                        Was ever such a marriage night as this!

                        You powers above, if you did ever mean

                        Man should be us'd thus, you have thought a way

                        How he may bear himself, and save his honour:

                        Instruct me in it; for to my dull eyes

                        There is no mean, no moderate course to run,

                         I must live scorn'd, or be a murderer:

                        Is there a third? why is this night so calm?

                        Why does not Heaven speak in Thunder to us,

                        And drown her voice?

      Evad. This rage will do no good.

      Amint. Evadne, hear me, thou hast ta'ne an Oath,

                       But such a rash one, that to keep it, were

                       Worse than to swear it; call it back to thee;

                       Such vows as those never ascend the Heaven;

                       A tear or two will wash it quite away:

                       Have mercy on my youth, my hopeful youth,

                        If thou be pitiful, for (without boast)

                       This Land was proud of me: what Lady was there

                       That men call'd fair and vertuous in this Isle,

                       That would have shun'd my love? It is in thee

                       To make me hold this worth—Oh! we vain men

                       That trust out all our reputation,

                       To rest upon the weak and yielding hand

                       Of feeble Women! but thou art not stone;

                       Thy flesh is soft, and in thine eyes doth dwell

                       The spirit of Love, thy heart cannot be hard.

                       Come lead me from the bottom of despair,

                       To all the joyes thou hast; I know thou wilt;

                       And make me careful, lest the sudden change

                       O're-come my spirits.

      Evad. When I call back this Oath, the pains of hell inviron me.

      Amin. I sleep, and am too temperate; come to bed, or by Those hairs, which if thou hast a soul like to thy locks, Were threads for Kings to wear about their arms.

      Evad. Why so perhaps they are.

      Amint. I'le drag thee to my bed, and make thy tongue

                        Undo this wicked Oath, or on thy flesh

                        I'le print a thousand wounds to let out life.

      Evad. I fear thee not, do what thou dar'st to me;

                         Every ill-sounding word, or threatning look

                         Thou shew'st to me, will be reveng'd at full.

      Amint. It will not sure Evadne.

      Evad. Do not you hazard that.

      Amint. Ha'ye your Champions?

      Evad. Alas Amintor, thinkst thou I forbear

                        To sleep with thee, because I have put on

                        A


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