Chapter 74

_Discovers a Room hung with Black, a Hearse standing in it with Tapers round about it_, Alcippus _weeping at it, with_ Isillia, _and other Women with long black Veils round about the Hearse_.

_Isil_. I humbly beg, my Lord, you would forbear.

_Alcip_. Oh _Isillia_, Thou knowest not what vast Treasure this incloses, This sacred Pile; is there no Sorrow due to it? Alas, I bad her not farewel at parting. Nor did receive so much as one poor Kiss. --Ah wretched, wretched Man!

_Enter the_ Prince.

How, the Prince! How suddenly my Grief submits to Rage.

_Phi. Alcippus_, why dost thou gaze thus on me? What Horror have I in my looks that frights thee?

_Alcip_. Why, Sir, what makes you here? I have no more Wives, no more _Erminias_; Alas, she is dead-- Will you not give her leave to rest in peace?

_Phi_. Is this the Gratitude you pay my Favours, That gave ye life, after your wrongs to me? But ‘twas my Sister’s Kindness that preserv’d thee And I prefer’d my Vengeance to the Gods.

_Alcip_. Your Sister is a Saint whom I adore; But I refuse a Life that comes from you.

_Isil_. What mean you, Sir?

_Alcip_. To speak a truth, as dying Men should do.

_Phi. Alcippus_, for my Sister’s sake who loves you, I can bear more than this--you know my power, And I can make you fear. [_Offers to go out_.

_Alcip_. No, Prince, not whilst I am in love with dying.

_Phi_. Your love to that I see has made you impudent.

_Isil_. The Storm comes on, your Highness should avoid it.

_Phi_. Let him give place, I’ll keep possession here.

_Isil_. It is the Prince’s pleasure, Sir, you quit the Presence.

_Alcip_. No, this I call my Home; And since _Erminia’s_ here that does entitle it so, I will not quit the Presence.

_Phi_. Gave thee a Title to’t, _Alcippus_?

_Alcip_. Me, _Philander_!

[_They come to each other’s breast, and so draw_.

_Phi_. Thee.

_Alcip_. Me, what dare you now?

_Phi_. I dare declare that I can hear no more; Be witness, Heaven, how justly I’m compell’d.

_Alcip_. Now, Sir, you are brave and love _Erminia_ too.

[_The Women run all away crying; they draw out some one way, and some another, leaving some their Veils behind them, some half off, half on_.

_Phi_. We are here not safe, these Women will betray us.

_Alcip_. Sir, ‘tis a work that will soon be dispatcht, And this a place and time most proper for’t.

[_A pass or two_. Fal. _peeps in and runs away.

Enter_ Pisaro, _runs between_.

_Pis_. Hold, Sir, are you grown desperate? What means your Highness? [_To the_ Prince. _Alcippus_, what is’t you design in this?

_Alcip_. To fight, _Pisaro_, and be kill’d.

_Pis_. By Heaven, you shall not fight, unless with me, And you have so anger’d me with this rash action, I could almost provoke you to it.

_Enter_ Alcander.

_Alcan_. Gods, Sir, that you should thus expose your self, The World’s great Heir, against a desperate Madman!

_Pis_. Have you forgot your Apparition, Sir?

_Alcip_. Oh, ‘twas an idle lying one, _Pisaro_, And came but to intrap me.

_To them_ Galatea, Aminta, _and_ Olinda.

_Gal_. Ah, Brother, why so cruel to your Sister?

_Phi_. Here, _Galatea_, punish my misfortune, For yet I want the will to injure thee. Heaven knows what provocations I receiv’d E’er I would draw a Sword on him you lov’d.

_Gal_. Unjust _Alcippus_, how dost thou reward me?

_Alcip_. Ah, Madam, I have too much shame to live. Had Heaven preserv’d my Innocence intire, That I with confidence might have ador’d you, Though I had been successless; Yet I had liv’d and hop’d, and aim’d to merit you: But since all hopes of that are taken from me, My Life is but too poor a Sacrifice, To make atonement for my Sins to you.

_Gal_. I will not answer thee to what thou hast said, But only beg thou wilt preserve thy life, Without which mine will be of little use to me.

_Alcip_. Might I without a sin believe this Blessing, Sure I should be immortal.

Falatio _peeps in again_.

_Fal_. I think I may venture, the fury is past, and the great shot spent, the mad Captain General’s wounded; so, I hope ‘twill let out some of his hot blood--

_Enter the_ King, Cleontius, _and Attendants_.

_King_. My Love, _Alcippus_, is despis’d I see, And you in lieu of that return you owe me, Endeavour to destroy me. --Is this an Object for your Rage to work on? Behold him well, _Alcippus_, ‘tis your Prince. --Who dares gaze on him with irreverend Eyes? The good he does you ought to adore him for, But all his evils ‘tis the Gods must punish, Who made no Laws for Princes.

_Alcip_. Sir, I confess I’m culpable, And were it not a sin equal to that, To doubt you could forgive me, I durst not hope your mercy after it.

_King_. I think with all the Tenderness I’m guilty of, I hardly shall be brought to pardon thee.

_Phi_. I humbly beg you will forgive him, Sir, I drew him to it against his will; I forc’d him, And gave him language not to be indur’d By any gallant man.

_King_. Whilst you intreat for him, who pleads for you? For you are much the guiltier of the two, And need’st a greater interest to persuade me.

_Alcip_. It were not just to contradict my Prince, A Prince to whom I’ve been so late a Traitor; But, Sir, ‘tis I alone am criminal, And ‘twas I, Justly I thought provok’d him to this hazard: ’.is I was rude, impatient, insolent, Did like a Madman animate his Anger, Not like a generous Enemy. Sir, when you weigh my Sorrows with this Action, You’ll find no base Design, no Villany there; But being weary of a Life I hated, I strove to put it off, and missing that way, I come to make an offer of it here.

_King_. If I should take it, ‘twere no more than just; Yet once again I will allow it thee, That thou mayst owe me for’t a second time: Manage it better than the last I gave-- [_Ex_. King.

_Phi. Alcippus_, may I credit what thou’st said, Or do you feign repentance to deceive me?

_Alcip_. I never could dissemble at my best, And now methinks your Highness should believe me, When my despairs and little love to life Make me despise all ways that may preserve it.

_Phi_. If thou wouldst have me credit thee, _Alcippus_, Thou shouldst not disesteem a Life, which ought To be preserv’d, to give a proof that what thou say’st Is true, and dispossess me of those fears I have, That ‘tis my Life makes thine displeasing to thee.

_Alcip_. ‘Tis a high proof to give you of my Duty, Yet that’s more ease to me than your Unbelief.

_Phi_. Let me embrace and thank thee for this goodness. [_He offers to embrace him, but he is shy, and keeps a little off_. Why dost receive me coldly? I’m in earnest; As I love Honour, and esteem thee generous, I mean thee nothing but a perfect Friendship; By all my hopes I’ve no more quarrels to thee, All ends in this Embrace, and to confirm it I give thee here my Sister to thy Wife.

_Alcip_. Your Pardon, Sir, I must refuse your bounty, till I know By what strange turn of Fate I came thus blest. To you, my Prince, I’ve done unheard-of injuries, And though your Mercy do afford me life, With this rich present too; Till I could know I might deserve them both, That Life will prove a Plague, and this great Gift Turn to the torment of it.

_Phi. Alcippus_, ‘tis not kind to doubt me still, Is this a present for a Man I hate?

_Alcip_. ‘Tis true, Sir, and your bounty does amaze me; Can I receive a blessing of this magnitude With hands, yet have not wash’d away the sin Of your _Erminia’s_ murder? think of that, Sir; For though to me it did appear most just, Yet you must hate the Man that has undone you.

_Gal_. I see _Erminia_ still usurps your thoughts.

_Alcip_. I must confess my Soul is scarce diverted Of that fond Passion which I had for her; But I protest before the Gods and you, Did she still live, and I might still possess her, I would refuse it, though I were ignorant Of what the Gods and your fair self design me.

_Phi_. To doubt thee were a sin below my nature, And to declare my faith above my fear, Behold what I present thee with.

[_Goes out, and enters again with_ Erminia.

_Alcip_. Ha--_Erminia_? [_He looks afrighted_. --It is the same appear’d to me last night, --And my deluded Fancy Would have persuaded me ‘twas but a dream.

_Phi_. Approach her, Sir, ‘tis no fantasm.

_Alcip_. ‘Tis she her self, Oh Gods, _Erminia_! [_She goes a little back, as afraid, he kneels_. --Ah, Madam, do not fear me in this posture, Which I will never quit till you have pardon’d me; It was a fault the most excusable, That ever wretched Lover did commit; And that which hinder’d me from following thee, Was that I could not well repent the Crime; But like a surly Sinner fac’d it out, And said, I thought ‘twas just, yes, fair _Erminia_; Hadst thou been mine, I would i’th’ face of Heaven, Proclaim it just and brave revenge: But, Madam, you were Wife to my Prince, And that was all my sin: Alas, in vain I hop’d for some return, And grew impatient of th’unkind delay, And frantickly I then out-run my happiness.

_Er_. Rise, I forgive thee, from my soul I do; Mayst thou be happier In thy more glorious Passion for the Princess, And all the Joys thou e’er couldst hope from me, Mayst thou find there repeated.

_Enter_ King, Orgulius, _and the rest_.

_Org_. First, I’ll keep my word with thee, Receive the welcome present which I promis’d.

[_Gives him_ Erminia, _she kneels_.

_Er_. Can you forgive the Griefs I’ve made you suffer?

_Org_. I can forgive, though ‘twas not kind To let me languish in a desperate Error; Why was this Blessing hid from me alone?

_Er_. Ah, Sir, so well I knew you lov’d _Alcippus_, That had you known it e’er the Prince had own’d me, I fear you had restor’d me back again, A Sin too great to load your Soul withal.

_Org_. My King already has forgiven that Error, And now I come to make my Peace with thee, And that I may with greatest speed obtain it, --To you, Sir, I resign her with as much Joy, [_To the Prince_. And when they undeceiv’d me Of my opinion of her being dead--

_Phi_. And I with greater Joy receive your gift. [_Bows and takes her_.

_King_. My Lord _Alcippus_, are you pleas’d with this?

_Alcip_. Sir, I am so pleas’d, so truly pleas’d with it, That Heaven, without this Blessing on my Prince, Had found but little trouble from my thanks, For all they have shower’d on me; ’.was all I wisht, next my Pretensions here.

_King_. Then to compleat thy happiness, Take _Galatea_, since her Passion merits thee, As do thy Virtues her.

[_Gives him_ Gal. _they both bow_.

_Er_. Sir, I’ve an humble suit t’your Majesty.

_King_. Conclude it granted then.

_Er. Falatius_, Sir, has long made love t’ _Isillia_, And now he’as gain’d her Heart, he slights the Conquest, Yet all the fault he finds is that she’s poor.

_King. Isillia’s_ Beauty can supply that want; _Falatius_, what d’ye say to’t?

_Fal_. By _Jove_, Sir, I’ll agree to any thing; for I believe a handsome young Wife at Court may bring a Man a greater Fortune than he can in Conscience desire. [_Takes_ Isillia.

_Er. Aminta_, be persuaded. [_Aside to_ Am.

_Am_. He’d use me scurvily then.

_Alcan_. That’s according as you behav’d yourself, _Aminta_.

_Am_. I should domineer.

_Alcan_. I then should make love elsewhere.

_Am_. Well, I find we shall not agree then.

_Alcan_. Faith--now we have disputed a point I never thought on before, I would willingly pursue it for the humour on’t, not that I think I shall much approve on’t.

_Pis_. Give him your hand, _Aminta_, and conclude, ’.is time this haughty humour were subdu’d. By your submission, whatsoe’er he seem, In time you’ll make the greater Slave of him.

_Am_. Well--not from the hope of that, but from my Love, His change of humour I’m content to prove. Here take me, _Alcander_; Whilst to Inconstancy I bid adieu, I find variety enough in you.

[_He takes her and bows_.

_King_. Come my brave Youths, we’ll toil our selves with Joys, And when we’re weary of the lazy play, We’ll search abroad to find new Conquests out, And get fresh Appetites to new Delights: It will redouble your vast stock of Courage, And make th’uneasy Humour light and gentle; When you remember even in heat of Battle, That after all your Victories and Spoil, You’ll meet calm Peace at home in soft Embraces. Thus may you number out your happy years,

_Till Love and Glory no more proofs can give Of what they can bestow, or you receive_.

[_Exeunt_.

EPILOGUE,

By a Woman.

_We charged you boldly in our first advance, And gave the Onset_ à la mode de France, _As each had been a_ Joan of Orleance.

_Like them our Heat as soon abated too; Alas we could not vanquish with a Show, Much more than that goes to the conquering you.

The Trial though will recompense the Pain, It having wisely taught us how to reign; ’.is Beauty only can our Power maintain.

But yet, as tributary Kings, we own It is by you that we possess that Throne, Where had we Victors been, we’ad reign’d alone.

And we have promised what we could not do; A fault, methinks, might be forgiven too, Since ‘tis but what we learnt of some of you.

But we are upon equal treatment yet, For neither conquer, since we both submit; You to our Beauty bow, we to your Wit_.

THE EMPEROR OF THE MOON.

ARGUMENT.

Doctor Baliardo, a Neapolitan philosopher, has so applied himself to the study of the Moon, and is enraptured to such an extent with the mysteries of that orb, that he has come steadfastly to believe in a lunar world, peopled, ruled and regulated like the earth. This wholly fills and absorbs his every waking thought, and, in consequence, he denies his daughter Elaria and his niece Bellemante to their respective lovers, the Viceroy’s two nephews, Don Cinthio and Don Charmante, as being men of men of mere terrestial mould. The girls are, however, secretly assisted in their amours by Scaramouch, the doctor’s man, who is himself a rival of Harlequin, Cinthio’s valet, for the hand of Mopsophil, duenna to the young ladies. Harlequin, hoping to find his way to his mistress, gets to Bellemante’s chamber but when she appears conceals himself. The doctor, however, who has been hastily summoned to the bedside of his brother, reported dying, returns a moment after he has set out for a key which has been accidently dropped from his bunch and finds Cinthio and Elaria. The gallant can only escape by pretending to be a lunatic brought to the house for medical treatment and cure. But during the doctor’s subsequent absence, whilst the two lovers are, as they suppose, securely entertaining their mistresses, the father is suddenly heard to return. For the moment they evade him by feigning to be figures in a rich tapestry (their masquing habits aiding the trick), which Scaramouch declares he has just purchased. But this sham being discovered, Scaramouch runs off with the candles and all slip away in the darkness and confusion, leaving him to return in his shirt as newly risen from bed. The doctor is bawling for help when the wily servant totters out yawning and rubbing his eyes to explain the whole affair away as a delusion or a vision produced by lunar agency, declaring that there has been a visit from the Moon World of their King and the Prince of Thunderland, who have descended a-courting Elaria and Bellemante. This is borne out by the girls themselves, who have previously been well primed by Mopsophil. After some intriguing between Harlequin and Scaramouch for the duenna’s hand, in the course of which the former disguises himself in female attire and again as a country lad, the latter as a learned apothecary, Charmante visits the doctor, and feigning to be a cabalist profound in occult lore, bids him prepare that night to receive Irednozor, monarch of the Moon, and the Prince of Thunderland who will appear to wed his daughter and his niece. Harlequin shortly after makes his entry as an ambassador from the celestial spheres to confirm this news, and as Baliardo, overjoyed, is conversing with him strains of music are heard to herald the arrival of the lunar potentates. All repair to an ancient gallery, long disused, whence the sound proceeds, and here, indeed, a pageant has been secretly arranged. The room is discovered to be richly adorned with costly hangings and pictures, ablaze with lights, and presently, after various masqueraders have appeared dressed as the astronomers Keplair and Galileus, as the different signs of the zodiac, and in other fantastic garbs, Cinthio and Charmante are seen in a silver chariot like a half-moon, attended by a train of heroes and amorini. There is no delay, the lovers are united in matrimony, Baliardo being overwhelmed at the honour done his house. But when Scaramouch and Harlequin fight a ridiculous duel, in which the former wins, for the favour of Mopsophil, the doctor discovers the whole trick, to wit, that the lunar courtiers are in reality his own friends and neighbours. He soon, however, yields to the persuasions of the lovers and the common-sense of his physician, who has taken part in the masque, and, realizing the folly of the fables he has so long implicitly believed, condemns his books to the fire and joins in the nuptial rejoicings with a merry heart.

SOURCE.

Mrs. Behn’s farce is derived from _Arlequin Empereur dans la Lune_, which was played in Paris by Guiseppe-Domenico Biancolelli, a famous Harlequin and the leading member of the Italian theatre there from 1660 to 1688. The original Italian scenes from which the French farce is taken belonged to that impromptu Comedy, ‘Commedia dell’ Arte all’ Improviso,’ which so far from being printed was but rarely even committed to writing. ‘The development of the intrigue by dialogue and action was left to the native wit of the several players,’ writes J.A. Symonds in his excellent and most scholarly introduction prefacing Carlo Gozzi’s _Memoirs_. In the case of a new play, or rather a new theme, the choregus or manager would call the company together, read out the plot, sketch the scenario, explain all business, and leave the dialogue to the humour and smartness of the individual performer. Their aptitude was amazing. In Kyd’s _Spanish Tragedy_ we find Heironymo, who wishes to have a subject mounted in a hurry, saying:--

The Italian tragedians were so sharp of wit, That in one hour’s meditation They would perform anything in action.

And Lorenzo rejoins:--

I have seen the like In Paris, among the French tragedians.

Of course much was bound to become stereotyped and fixed, but much was ever fluctuating and new.

When Biancolelli died on 2 August, 1688, of pneumonia, contracted through neglecting to change damp clothes, the loss to the Italian theatre seemed irreparable, but in the following year an equally celebrated Harlequin, finer and wittier if not more popular than he, appeared in the person of Evariste Gherardi. Gherardi was a man of culture, and he collected and edited a number of scenes, written in French, which were on the boards intermingled and played with the Italian farces in order to raise the tone of, and give something more solid and durable to, these entertainments. In 1695 three volumes of these scenes were published at Amsterdam, ‘chez Adrian Braakman,’ under the title _Le Théâtre Italien, ou le Recueil de toutes les Comédies et Scènes Françoises qui ont été jouées sur le Théâtre Italien par la Troupe des Comediens du Roy de l’.ôtel de Bourgogne à Paris.

Arlequin Empereur dans la Lune_ had been published in its entirety eleven years previously (1684), but it was sufficiently popular for Gherardi to include various scenes therefrom in his collection. Accordingly he commences his first volume by giving the ‘Scène de la Fille de Chambre’, where Harlequin, disguised as a woman, pretends to be seeking a place as waiting-maid to the Doctor--_Emperor of the Moon_,