The Feign'd Curtizans E-Book

Aphra Behn

• Herausgeber: Interactive Media
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2016

Beschreibung

The Feign'd Curtizans

Leseprobe

Aphra Behn

Aphra Behn

The Feign’d Curtizans

New Edition

LONDON ∙ NEW YORK ∙ TORONTO ∙ SAO PAULO ∙ MOSCOW

PARIS ∙ MADRID ∙ BERLIN ∙ ROME ∙ MEXICO CITY ∙ MUMBAI ∙ SEOUL ∙ DOHA

TOKYO ∙ SYDNEY ∙ CAPE TOWN ∙ AUCKLAND ∙ BEIJING

New Edition

Published by Sovereign Classic

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This Edition

First published in 2016

Copyright © 2016 Sovereign

All Rights Reserved.

ISBN: 9781911495598

Contents

ARGUMENT.

PROLOGUE,

DRAMATIS PERSONAE.

EPILOGUE.

ARGUMENT.

Marcella and Cornelia, nieces to Count Morosini and sisters to Julio, who is contracted to Laura Lucretia, a lady of quality, sister of Count Octavio, in order to avoid Marcella’s marriage with this nobleman, secretly leave Viterbo where they live, and accompanied only by their attendants, Petro and Philippa, come to Rome, and there pass for courtezans under the names of Euphemia and Silvianetta. Their beauty wins them great renown in the gay world, and Sir Harry Fillamour, who loves Marcella, and Frank Galliard, two English travellers, are keenly attracted by this reputation. Sir Harry, however, is anxious for matrimony, Galliard for an intrigue. Marcella in her turn is already enamoured of Fillamour whom she has met at Viterbo. Morosini and Octavio follow the fugitives to Rome, whilst Laura Lucretia, who loves Galliard, disguises herself in male attire and takes a house on the Corso next door to the supposed courtezans. Fillamour and Galliard encounter the two ladies in the gardens of the Villa Medici, and Fillamour takes Marcella for a courtezan, whilst Galliard engages with Cornelia. Octavio passing with his followers spies and attacks his rival. A general mêlée ensues. Julio, who has not seen his family for seven years, next appears, having taken Cornelia for a cyprian and followed her from St. Peter’s. Marcella, in boy’s attire, then gives Fillamour a letter from herself, signed under her own name, making an appointment for that night; but at the same time Galliard, claiming a former promise, drags his friend off to visit Euphemia. The intrigue is complicated by the ridiculous amours of two foolish travellers, Sir Signal Buffoon and Mr. Tickletext, a puritan divine, his tutor. These, unknown to each other, make assignations with the two bona robas by means of Petro, who dupes them thoroughly by his clever tricks, and pockets their money. Whilst Galliard and Sir Harry are serenading the ladies, Octavio, Julio and their bravos attack them. After the scuffle Laura Lucretia coming from her house leads in Julio, mistaking him for Galliard, and he her for Silvianetta. Next Sir Harry and Galliard arrive in safety at the sisters’ house, and Marcella, as a courtezan, tempts her lover, who, however, refuses to yield and leaves her, to her secret joy. Tickletext has been placed by Petro in bed to await, as he supposes, Silvianetta, when Galliard in error entering the room in the dark gropes his way to the bed and finding a man, closes with him. The tutor escapes, and Cornelia coming in in the course of her wooing by Galliard informs him she is not really a courtezan as he supposed. In anger her gallant departs. Whilst he is telling Sir Harry this tale Cornelia, dressed as a page, follows him and delivers Fillamour a challenge as from Marcella’s brother, Julio, summoning him to the Piazza di Spagna. Julio himself, newly come from Laura Lucretia, meeting Galliard relates to him how he passed the night with Silvianetta, which confirms the opinion the Englishman had already formed of her treachery and deceit. Laura Lucretia overhears and sends her maid to bring her Galliard; but whilst he is with her, Cornelia, who has jealously followed, feigning to be Julio’s page, gives the amorous dame a letter as from her betrothed. The trick fails, Cornelia is laughed at as a saucy lad, repulsed and obliged to retire. Sir Harry is then met by Marcella dressed as a man and calling herself Julio. Julio himself happens to be at the Piazza di Spagna and he interrupts the quarrel. Octavio and Morosini speedily join him, as Crapine has tracked the runaways to their lodging. All these hurry into the courtezans’ house, where they find Fillamour and Galliard. Mutual explanations follow. Octavio nobly renounces Marcella in favour of Fillamour who claims her hand, whilst Cornelia gives herself to Galliard in sober wedlock. Tickletext and Sir Signal are then discovered to be concealed in the room, and their mutual frailties exposed. It is promised that the money of which Petro has choused them shall be restored, and everything is forgiven, since “’twas but one night’s intrigue, in which all were a little faulty.”

SOURCE.

The plot of The Feign’d Curfezans; or, A Night’s Intrigue is wholly original. It is one of those bustling pieces, quick with complicated intrigue, of the Spanish comedias de capa y espada school, which Mrs. Behn loved, and which none could present more happily or wittily than she. To quote the Biographia Dramatics, ‘the play contains a vast deal of business and intrigue; the contrivance of the two ladies to obtain their differently disposed lovers, both by the same means, viz. by assuming the characters of courtezans, being productive of great variety.’ Some incidents, indeed, recall The Rover; and the accident of Tickletext being discovered in bed by Galliard is similar to that when Carlo comes upon Fetherfool in the same circumstance, Rover II, Act iv, iv. On the whole, however, The Feign’d Curtezans is the better play, and may not unjustly claim to be, if not Mrs. Behn’s masterpiece (a title it disputes with The Rover, Part I, and The Lucky Chance), at least one of the very best and wittiest of her sparkling comedies.

THEATRICAL HISTORY.

The Feign’d Curtezans; or, A Night’s Intrigue was produced at the Duke’s Theatre, Dorset Garden, in 1679. The cast was a star one, and Downes remarks that it was ‘well acted’; but though favourably received it does not, for some unaccountable reason, seem to have met with the triumphant success it certainly deserved. It continued to be played from time to time, and there was a notable revival on 8 August, 1716, at Lincoln’s Inn Fields. Galliard was acted by J. Leigh; Sir Harry, Smith; Sir Signal, Bullock; Tickletext, Griffin; Pedro, Spiller; Julio, Bull jun. Cornelia, Mrs. Cross; Marcella, Mrs. Thurmond; Laura Lucretia, Mrs. Spiller. It was performed three times that season, but soon after disappears from the repertory.

TO MRS. ELLEN GUIN.

Madam,

‘Tis no wonder that hitherto I followed not the good example of the believing Poets, since less faith and zeal then you alone can inspire, had wanted power to have reduc’t me to the true worship: Your permission, Madam, has inlightened me, and I with shame look back on my past Ignorance, which suffered me not to pay an Adoration long since, where there was so very much due, yet even now though secure in my opinion, I make this Sacrifice with infinite fear and trembling, well knowing that so Excellent and perfect a Creature as your self differs only from the Divine powers in this; the Offerings made to you ought to be worthy of you, whilst they accept the will alone; and how Madam, would your Altars be loaded, if like heaven you gave permission to all that had a will and desire to approach ‘em who now at distance can only wish and admire, which all mankinde agree to do; as if Madam, you alone had the pattent from heaven to ingross all hearts and even those distant slaves whom you conquer with your fame, pay an equall tribute to those that have the blessing of being wounded by your Eyes, and boast the happiness of beholding you dayly; insomuch that succeeding ages who shall with joy survey your History shall Envy us who lived in this, and saw those charming wonders which they can only reade of, and whom we ought in charity to pity, since all the Pictures, pens or pencills can draw, will give ‘em but a faint Idea of what we have the honour to see in such absolute Perfection; they can only guess She was infinitely fair, witty, and deserving, but to what Vast degrees in all, they can only Judge who liv’d to Gaze and Listen; for besides Madam, all the Charms and attractions and powers of your Sex, you have Beauties peculiar to your self, an eternal sweetness, youth and ayr, which never dwelt in any face but yours, of which not one unimitable Grace could be ever borrow’d, or assumed, though with never so much industry, to adorn another, they cannot steal a look or smile from you to inhance their own beauties price, but all the world will know it yours; so natural and so fitted are all your Charms and Excellencies to one another, so intirely design’d and created to make up in you alone the most perfect lovely thing in the world; you never appear but you glad the hearts of all that have the happy fortune to see you, as if you were made on purpose to put the whole world into good Humour, whenever you look abroad, and when you speak, men crowd to listen with that awfull reverence as to Holy Oracles or Divine Prophesies, and bears away the precious words to tell at home to all the attentive family the Graceful things you utter’d and cry, but oh she spoke with such an Ayr, so gay, that half the beauty’s lost in the repetition. ‘Tis this that ought to make your Sex vain enough to despise the malicious world that will allow a woman no wit, and bless our selves for living in an Age that can produce so wondrous an argument as your undeniable self, to shame those boasting talkers who are Judges of nothing but faults.

But how much in vain Madam, I endeavour to tell you the sence of all mankinde with mine, since to the utmost Limits of the Universe your mighty Conquests are made known: And who can doubt the Power of that Illustrious Beauty, the Charms of that tongue, and the greatness of that minde, who has subdu’d the most powerfull and Glorious Monarch of the world: And so well you bear the honours you were born for, with a greatness so unaffected, an affability so easie, an Humour so soft, so far from Pride or Vanity, that the most Envious & most disaffected can finde no cause or reason to wish you less, Nor can Heaven give you more, who has exprest a particular care of you every way, and above all in bestowing on the world and you, two noble Branches, who have all the greatness and sweetness of their Royal and beautiful stock; and who give us too a hopeful Prospect of what their future Braveries will perform, when they shall shoot up and spread themselves to that degree, that all the lesser world may finde repose beneath their shades; and whom you have permitted to wear those glorious Titles which you your self Generously neglected, well knowing with the noble Poet; ‘tis better far to merit Titles then to wear ‘em.

Can you then blame my Ambition, Madam, that lays this at your feet, and begs a Sanctuary where all pay so great a Veneration? ‘twas Dedicated yours before it had a being, and overbusy to render it worthy of the Honour, made it less grateful; and Poetry like Lovers often fares the worse by taking too much pains to please; but under so Gracious an Influence my tender Lawrells may thrive, till they become fit Wreaths to offer to the Rays that improve their Growth: which Madam, I humbly implore, you still permit her ever to do, who is,

Madam,

Your most Humble,

and most Obedient Servant,

A. Behn.

PROLOGUE,

Spoken by Mrs. Currer.

The Devil take this cursed plotting Age,

‘T has ruin’d all our Plots upon the Stage;

Suspicions, New Elections, Jealousies,

Fresh Informations, New Discoveries,

Do so employ the busy fearful Town,

Our honest Calling here is useless grown:

Each Fool turns Politician now, and wears

A formal Face, and talks of State-affairs;

Makes Acts, Decrees, and a new Model draws

For Regulation both of Church and Laws;

Tires out his empty Noddle to invent

What Rule and Method’s best in Government:

But Wit, as if ‘twere Jesuitical,

Is an Abomination to ye all.

To what a wretched pass will poor Plays come?

This must be damn’d, the Plot is laid in Rome;

‘Tis hard—yet—

Not one amongst ye all I’ll undertake,

E’er thought that we should suffer for Religion’s sake:

Who wou’d have thought that wou’d have been th’ occasion

Of any contest in our hopeful Nation?

For my own Principles, faith let me tell ye,

I’m still of the Religion of my Cully;

And till these dangerous times they’d none to fix on,

But now are something in mere Contradiction,

And piously pretend these are not days,

For keeping Mistresses, and seeing Plays:

Who says this Age a Reformation wants,

When Betty Currer’s Lovers all turns Saints?

In vain, alas, I flatter, swear, and vow,

You’ll scarce do any thing for Charity now:

Yet I am handsom still, still young and mad,

Can wheedle, lye, dissemble, jilt—egad,

As well and artfully as e’er I did;

Yet not one Conquest can I gain or hope,

No Prentice, not a Foreman of a Shop,

So that I want extremely new Supplies;

Of my last Coxcomb, faith, these were the Prize;

And by the tatter’d Ensigns you may know,

These Spoils were of a Victory long ago:

Who wou’d have thought such hellish Times to have seen,

When I shou’d be neglected at Eighteen?

That Youth and Beauty shou’d be quite undone,

A Pox upon the Whore of Babylon.

DRAMATIS PERSONAE.

ITALIANS.

Morosini, an old Count, Uncle to Julio. Mr. Norris. Julio, his Nephew, a young Count, contracted to Laura Lucretia. Mr. Crosby. Octavio a young Count, contracted to Marcella, deformed, revengeful. Mr. Gillo. Crapine, Morosini’s Man. Petro, supposed Pimp to the two Curtezans. Mr. Leigh. Silvio, Page to Laura Lucretia. Antonio, an Attendant to Laura Lucretia. Page to Julio.

ENGLISH.

Sir Harry Fillamour, in love with _Marcella. Mr. Smith.

Mr. Galliard, in love with Cornelia. Mr. Betterton.

Sir Signal Buffoon, a Fool. Mr. Nokes.

Mr. Tickletext, his Governour. Mr. Underbill.

Jack, Sir Signal’s Man.

Page to Fillamour.

WOMEN.

Laura Lucretia_, a young Lady of Quality, contracted

to Julio, in love with Galliard, and

Sister to Octavio. Mrs. Lee.

Marcella, Mrs. Currer.

and

Cornelia, Mrs. Barry.

Sisters to Julio, and Nieces to Morosini,

and pass for Curtezans by the names of

Euphemia and Silvianetta.

Philippa, their Woman. Mrs. Norris.

Sabina, Confident to Laura Lucretia. Mrs. Seymour.

Pages, Musick, Footmen, and Bravos.

SCENE, Rome.

ACT I.

SCENE I. A Street.

Enter Laura Lucretia, and Silvio richly drest; Antonio attending, coming all in haste.

Sil. Madam, you need not make such haste away, the Stranger that follow’d us from St. Peter’s Church pursues us no longer, and we have now lost sight of him: Lord, who wou’d have thought the approach of a handsome Cavalier should have possest Donna Laura Lucretia with fear?

Lau. I do not fear, my Silvio, but I wou’d have this new Habitation which I have design’d for Love, known to none but him to whom I’ve destin’d my Heart:—ah, wou’d he knew the Conquest he has made, [Aside.] Nor went I this Evening to Church with any other Devotion, but that which warms my heart for my young English Cavalier, whom I hop’d to have seen there; and I must find some way to let him know my Passion, which is too high for Souls like mine to hide.

Sil. Madam, the Cavalier’s in view again, and hot in the pursuit.

Lau. Let’s haste away then; and, Silvio, do you lag behind, ‘twill give him an opportunity of enquiring, whilst I get out of sight.—Be sure you conceal my Name and Quality, and tell him—any thing but truth—tell him I am La Silvianetta, the young Roman Curtezan, or what you please to hide me from his knowledge.

[Exeunt Lau. and Ant.

Enter Julio and Page in pursuit.

Jul. Boy, fall you into discourse with that Page, and learn his Lady’s Name—whilst I pursue her farther. [Ex. Jul.

[Page salutes Silvio, who returns it; they go out as talking to each other.

Enter Sir Harry Fillamour and Galliard.

Fil. He follows her close, whoe’er they be: I see this trade of Love goes forward still.

Gal. And will whilst there’s difference in Sexes. But, Harry, the Women, the delicate Women I was speaking of?

Fil. Prithee tell me no more of thy fine Women, Frank; thou hast not been in Rome above a Month, and thou’ast been a dozen times in love, as thou call’s! it; to me there is no pleasure like Constancy.

Gal. Constancy! and wou’dst thou have me one of those dull Lovers, who believe it their Duty to love a Woman ‘till her Hair and Eyes change Colour, for fear of the scandalous Name of an Inconstant? No, my Passion, like great Victors, hates the lazy stay; but having vanquisht, prepares for new Conquests.

Fil. Which you gain as they do Towns by Fire, lose ‘em even in the taking; thou wo’t grow penitent, and weary of these dangerous Follys.

Gal. But I am yet too young for both: Let old Age and Infirmity bring Repentance,—there’s her feeble Province, and even then too we find no plague like being deprived of dear Woman-kind.

Fil. I hate playing about a Flame that will consume me.

Gal. Away with your antiquated Notions, and let’s once hear sense from thee: Examine but the whole World, Harry, and thou wilt find a beautiful Woman the Desire of the noblest, and the Reward of the bravest.

Fil. And the common Prize of Coxcombs: Times are alter’d now, Frank; why else shou’d the Virtuous be cornuted, the Coward be caress’d, the Villain roll with six, and the Fool lie with her Ladyship?

Gal. Mere accident, Sir; and the kindness of Fortune: but a pretty witty young Creature, such as this Silvianetta and Euphemia, is certainly the greatest Blessing this wicked World can afford us.

Fil. I believe the lawful enjoyment of such a Woman, and honest too, wou’d be a Blessing.

Gal. Lawful Enjoyment! Prithee what’s lawful Enjoyment, but to enjoy ‘em according to the generous indulgent Law of Nature; enjoy ‘em as we do Meat, Drink, Air, and Light, and all the rest of her common Blessings?— Therefore prithee, dear Knight, let me govern thee but for a Day, and I will shew thee such a Signiora, such a Beauty, another manner of piece than your so admired Viterboan, Donna Marcella, of whom you boast so much.

Fil. And yet this rare piece is but a Curtezan, in coarse plain English a very Whore,—who filthily exposes all her Beauties to him can give her most, not love her best.

Gal. Why, faith, to thy comfort be it spoken, she does distribute her Charms at that easy rate.

Fil. Oh, the vast distance between an innocent Passion, and a poor faithless Lust!

Gal. Innocent Passion at Rome! Oh, ‘tis not to be nam’d but in some Northern Climate: to be an Anchoret here, is to be an Epicure in Greenland; impossibilities, Harry. Sure thou hast been advising with Sir Signal Buffoon’s Governour, that formal piece of Nonsense and Hypocrisy.

Fil. No, faith, I brought the humour along with me to Rome; and for your Governour I have not seen him yet, though he lodge in this same House with us, and you promis’d to bring me acquainted with him long since.

Gal. I’ll do’t this very minute.

Fil. No, I’m oblig’d not to engage my self this Evening, because I expect the arrival of Count Julio, whose last Letters assured me it would be to night.

Gal. Julio! What, the young Italian Count you made me acquainted with last Summer in England?

Fil. The same, the Ambassador’s Nephew, a good Youth, and one I esteem.

Enter Julio.

Jul. I hope my Page will bring intelligence who this Beauty is.

Fil. Hah, Julio! Welcome, dear Friend. [Embraces him.

Jul. Sir Harry Fillamour! how glad am I to meet you in a Country, where I have power to repay you all those Friendships I receiv’d when I was a stranger in yours. Monsieur Galllard too! nay, then I’m sure to want no diversion whilst I stay in Rome. [Salutes Galliard.

Fil. But, pray, what made you leave England so soon?

Jul. E’en the great business of Mankind, Matrimony. I have an Uncle here, who has provided me Fetters, which I must put on, he says they will be easy; I lik’d the Character of my Mistress well enough, a brave masculine Lady, a Roman of Quality, Donna Laura Lucretia; till as luck wou’d have it, at my arrival this Evening, stepping into St. Peter’s Church, I saw a Woman there that fir’d my heart, and whom I followed to her house: but meeting none that cou’d inform me who she was, I left my Page to make the discovery, whilst I with equal impatience came to look you out; whose sight I prefer even to a new Amour, resolving not to visit home, to which I have been a stranger this seven years, till I had kist your hands, and gained your promise to accompany me to Viterbo.

Fil. Viterbo! is that your place of Residence?

Jul. Yes, ‘tis a pretty Town, and many noble Familys inhabit there, stor’d too with Beauties, at least ‘twas wont to be: have you not seen it?

Gal. Yes, and a Beauty there too, lately, for his repose, who has made him sigh and look so like an Ass ever since he came to Rome.

Jul. I am glad you have so powerful an Argument, to invite you back; I know she must be rare and of quality, that cou’d engage your heart.

Fil. She’s both; it most unluckily fell out, that I was recommended by a Person of Quality in England to a Nobleman at Viterbo, who being a Man of a Temper frank and gallant, received me with less Ceremony than is usual in Italy. I had the freedom of the House, one of the finest Villa’s belonging to Viterbo, and the pleasure to see and converse at a distance with one of the loveliest Persons in the World, a Niece of this old Count’s.

Jul. Very well, and cou’d you see her but at a distance, Sir [...]