The Works of Aphra Behn
TextThe King, enrag’d at this Delay, hastily demanded the Name of the bold Man, that had married a Woman of her Degree, without his Consent. Imoinda seeing his Eyes fierce, and his Hands tremble, (whether with Age or Anger, I know not, but she fancy’d the last) almost repented she had said so much, for now she fear’d the Storm would fall on the Prince; she therefore said a thousand Things to appease the raging of his Flame, and to prepare him to hear who it was with Calmness: but before she spoke, he imagin’d who she meant, but would not seem to do so, but commanded her to lay aside her Mantle, and suffer herself to receive his Caresses, or, by his Gods he swore, that happy Man whom she was going to name should die, tho’ it was even Oroonoko himself. Therefore (said he) deny this Marriage, and swear thyself a Maid. That (reply’d Imoinda) by all our Powers I do; for I am not yet known to my Husband. ’Tis enough (said the King) ’tis enough both to satisfy my Conscience and my Heart. And rising from his Seat, he went and led her into the Bath; it being in vain for her to resist.
In this Time, the Prince, who was return’d from Hunting, went to visit his Imoinda, but found her gone; and not only so, but heard she had receiv’d the Royal Veil. This rais’d him to a Storm; and in his Madness, they had much ado to save him from laying violent Hands on himself. Force first prevail’d, and then Reason: They urg’d all to him, that might oppose his Rage; but nothing weigh’d so greatly with him as the King’s old Age, uncapable of injuring him with Imoinda. He would give Way to that Hope, because it pleas’d him most, and flatter’d best his Heart. Yet this serv’d not altogether to make him cease his different Passions, which sometimes rag’d within him, and soften’d into Showers. ’Twas not enough to appease him, to tell him, his Grandfather was old, and could not that Way injure him, while he retain’d that awful Duty which the young Men are us’d there to pay to their grave Relations. He could not be convinc’d he had no Cause to sigh and mourn for the Loss of a Mistress, he could not with all his Strength and Courage retrieve, and he would often cry, ‘Oh, my Friends! were she in wall’d Cities, or confin’d from me in Fortifications of the greatest Strength; did Inchantments or Monsters detain her from me; I would venture thro’ any Hazard to free her; But here, in the Arms of a feeble old Man, my Youth, my violent Love, my Trade in Arms, and all my vast Desire of Glory, avail me nothing. Imoinda is as irrecoverably lost to me, as if she were snatch’d by the cold Arms of Death: Oh! she is never to be retrieved. If I would wait tedious Years; till Fate should bow the old King to his Grave, even that would not leave me Imoinda free; but still that Custom that makes it so vile a Crime for a Son to marry his Father’s Wives or Mistresses, would hinder my Happiness; unless I would either ignobly set an ill Precedent to my Successors, or abandon my Country, and fly with her to some unknown World who never heard our Story.’
But it was objected to him, That his Case was not the same: for Imoinda being his lawful Wife by solemn Contract, ’twas he was the injur’d Man, and might, if he so pleas’d, take Imoinda back, the Breach of the Law being on his Grandfather’s Side; and that if he could circumvent him, and redeem her from the Otan, which is the Palace of the King’s Women, a sort of Seraglio, it was both just and lawful for him so to do.
This Reasoning had some Force upon him, and he should have been entirely comforted, but for the Thought that she was possess’d by his Grandfather. However, he lov’d her so well, that he was resolv’d to believe what most favour’d his Hope, and to endeavour to learn from Imoinda’s own Mouth, what only she could satisfy him in, whether she was robb’d of that Blessing which was only due to his Faith and Love. But as it was very hard to get a Sight of the Women, (for no Men ever enter’d into the Otan but when the King went to entertain himself with some one of his Wives or Mistresses; and ’twas Death, at any other Time, for any other to go in) so he knew not how to contrive to get a Sight of her.
While Oroonoko felt all the Agonies of Love, and suffer’d under a Torment the most painful in the World, the old King was not exempted from his Share of Affliction. He was troubled, for having been forc’d, by an irresistible Passion, to rob his Son of a Treasure, he knew, could not but be extremely dear to him; since she was the most beautiful that ever had been seen, and had besides, all the Sweetness and Innocence of Youth and Modesty, with a Charm of Wit surpassing all. He found, that however she was forc’d to expose her lovely Person to his wither’d Arms, she could only sigh and weep there, and think of Oroonoko; and oftentimes could not forbear speaking of him, tho’ her Life were, by Custom, forfeited by owning her Passion. But she spoke not of a Lover only, but of a Prince dear to him to whom she spoke; and of the Praises of a Man, who, ’till now, fill’d the old Man’s Soul with Joy at every Recital of his Bravery, or even his Name. And ’twas this Dotage on our young Hero, that gave Imoinda a thousand Privileges to speak of him without offending; and this Condescension in the old King, that made her take the Satisfaction of speaking of him so very often.
Besides, he many times enquir’d how the Prince bore himself: And those of whom he ask’d, being entirely Slaves to the Merits and Virtues of the Prince, still answer’d what they thought conduc’d best to his Service; which was, to make the old King fancy that the Prince had no more Interest in Imoinda, and had resign’d her willingly to the Pleasure of the King; that he diverted himself with his Mathematicians, his Fortifications, his Officers, and his Hunting.
This pleas’d the old Lover, who fail’d not to report these Things again to Imoinda, that she might, by the Example of her young Lover, withdraw her Heart, and rest better contented in his Arms. But, however she was forc’d to receive this unwelcome News, in all Appearance, with Unconcern and Content; her Heart was bursting within, and she was only happy when she could get alone, to vent her Griefs and Moans with Sighs and Tears.
What Reports of the Prince’s Conduct were made to the King, he thought good to justify, as far as possibly he could, by his Actions; and when he appear’d in the Presence of the King, he shew’d a Face not at all betraying his Heart: so that in a little Time, the old Man, being entirely convinc’d that he was no longer a Lover of Imoinda he carry’d him with him in his Train to the Otan, often to banquet with his Mistresses. But as soon as he enter’d, one Day, into the Apartment of Imoinda, with the King, at the first Glance from her Eyes, notwithstanding all his determined Resolution, he was ready to sink in the Place where he stood; and had certainly done so, but for the Support of Aboan, a young Man who was next to him; which, with his Change of Countenance, had betray’d him, had the King chanc’d to look that Way. And I have observ’d, ’tis a very great Error in those who laugh when one says, A Negro can change Colour: for I have seen ’em as frequently blush, and look pale, and that as visibly as ever I saw in the most beautiful White. And ’tis certain, that both these Changes were evident, this Day, in both these Lovers. And Imoinda, who saw with some Joy the Change in the Prince’s Face, and found it in her own, strove to divert the King from beholding either, by a forc’d Caress, with which she met him; which was a new Wound in the Heart of the poor dying Prince. But as soon as the King was busy’d in looking on some fine Thing of Imoinda’s making, she had Time to tell the Prince, with her angry, but Love-darting Eyes, that she resented his Coldness, and bemoan’d her own miserable Captivity. Nor were his Eyes silent, but answer’d her’s again, as much as Eyes could do, instructed by the most tender and most passionate Heart that ever lov’d: And they spoke so well, and so effectually, as Imoinda no longer doubted but she was the only Delight and Darling of that Soul she found pleading in ’em its Right of Love, which none was more willing to resign than she. And ’twas this powerful Language alone that in an Instant convey’d all the Thoughts of their Souls to each other; that they both found there wanted but Opportunity to make them both entirely happy. But when he saw another Door open’d by Onahal (a former old Wife of the King’s, who now had Charge of Imoinda) and saw the Prospect of a Bed of State made ready, with Sweets and Flowers for the Dalliance of the King, who immediately led the trembling Victim from his Sight, into that prepar’d Repose; what Rage! what wild Frenzies seiz’d his Heart! which forcing to keep within Bounds, and to suffer without Noise, it became the more insupportable, and rent his Soul with ten thousand Pains. He was forc’d to retire to vent his Groans, where he fell down on a Carpet, and lay struggling a long Time, and only breathing now and then – Oh Imoinda! When Onahal had finished her necessary Affair within, shutting the Door, she came forth, to wait till the King called; and hearing some one sighing in the other Room, she pass’d on, and found the Prince in that deplorable Condition, which she thought needed her Aid. She gave him Cordials, but all in vain; till finding the Nature of his Disease, by his Sighs, and naming Imoinda, she told him he had not so much Cause as he imagined to afflict himself: for if he knew the King so well as she did, he would not lose a Moment in Jealousy; and that she was confident that Imoinda bore, at this Minute, Part in his Affliction. Aboan was of the same Opinion, and both together persuaded him to re-assume his Courage; and all sitting down on the Carpet, the Prince said so many obliging Things to Onahal, that he half-persuaded her to be of his Party: and she promised him, she would thus far comply with his just Desires, that she would let Imoinda know how faithful he was, what he suffer’d, and what he said.
This Discourse lasted till the King called, which gave Oroonoko a certain Satisfaction; and with the Hope Onahal had made him conceive, he assumed a Look as gay as ’twas possible a Man in his Circumstances could do: and presently after, he was call’d in with the rest who waited without. The King commanded Musick to be brought, and several of his young Wives and Mistresses came all together by his Command, to dance before him; where Imoinda perform’d her Part with an Air and Grace so surpassing all the rest, as her Beauty was above ’em, and received the Present ordained as a Prize. The Prince was every Moment more charmed with the new Beauties and Graces he beheld in this Fair-One; and while he gazed, and she danc’d, Onahal was retired to a Window with Aboan.
This Onahal, as I said, was one of the Cast-Mistresses of the old King; and ’twas these (now past their Beauty) that were made Guardians or Governantees to the new and the young ones, and whose Business it was to teach them all those wanton Arts of Love, with which they prevail’d and charm’d heretofore in their Turn; and who now treated the triumphing Happy-ones with all the Severity, as to Liberty and Freedom, that was possible, in Revenge of the Honours they rob them of; envying them those Satisfactions, those Gallantries and Presents, that were once made to themselves, while Youth and Beauty lasted, and which they now saw pass, as it were regardless by, and paid only to the Bloomings. And certainly, nothing is more afflicting to a decay’d Beauty, than to behold in itself declining Charms, that were once ador’d; and to find those Caresses paid to new Beauties, to which once she laid Claim; to hear them whisper, as she passes by, that once was a delicate Woman. Those abandon’d ladies therefore endeavour to revenge all the Despights and Decays of Time, on these flourishing Happy-ones. And ’twas this Severity that gave Oroonoko a thousand Fears he should never prevail with Onahal to see Imoinda. But, as I said, she was now retir’d to a Window with Aboan.
This young Man was not only one of the best Quality, but a Man extremely well made, and beautiful; and coming often to attend the King to the Otan, he had subdu’d the Heart of the antiquated Onahal, which had not forgot how pleasant it was to be in love. And tho’ she had some Decays in her Face, she had none in her Sense and Wit; she was there agreeable still, even to Aboan’s Youth: so that he took Pleasure in entertaining her with Discourses of Love. He knew also, that to make his Court to these She-favourites, was the Way to be great; these being the Persons that do all Affairs and Business at Court. He had also observed, that she had given him Glances more tender and inviting than she had done to others of his Quality. And now, when he saw that her Favour could so absolutely oblige the Prince, he fail’d not to sigh in her Ear, and look with Eyes all soft upon her, and gave her Hope that she had made some Impressions on his Heart. He found her pleas’d at this, and making a thousand Advances to him: but the Ceremony ending, and the King departing, broke up the Company for that Day, and his Conversation.
Aboan fail’d not that Night to tell the Prince of his Success, and how advantageous the Service of Onahal might be to his Amour with Imoinda. The Prince was overjoy’d with this good News, and besought him, if it were possible, to caress her so, as to engage her entirely, which he could not fail to do, if he comply’d with her Desires: For then (said the Prince) her Life lying at your Mercy, she must grant you the Request you make in my Behalf. Aboan understood him, and assur’d him he would make Love so effectually, that he would defy the most expert Mistress of the Art, to find out whether he dissembled it, or had it really. And ’twas with Impatience they waited the next Opportunity of going to the Otan.
The Wars came on, the Time of taking the Field approached; and ’twas impossible for the Prince to delay his going at the Head of his Army to encounter the Enemy; so that every Day seem’d a tedious Year, till he saw his Imoinda: for he believed he could not live, if he were forced away without being so happy. ’Twas with Impatience therefore that he expected the next Visit the King would make; and, according to his Wish, it was not long.
The Parley of the Eyes of these two Lovers had not pass’d so secretly, but an old jealous Lover could spy it; or rather, he wanted not Flatterers who told him they observ’d it: so that the Prince was hasten’d to the Camp, and this was the last Visit he found he should make to the Otan; he therefore urged Aboan to make the best of this last Effort, and to explain himself so to Onahal, that she deferring her Enjoyment of her young Lover no longer, might make Way for the Prince to speak to Imoinda.
The whole Affair being agreed on between the Prince and Aboan, they attended the King, as the Custom was, to the Otan; where, while the whole Company was taken up in beholding the Dancing, and Antick Postures the Women-Royal made to divert the King, Onahal singled out Aboan, whom she found most pliable to her Wish. When she had him where she believed she could not be heard, she sigh’d to him, and softly cry’d, ‘Ah, Aboan! when will you be sensible of my Passion? I confess it with my Mouth, because I would not give my Eyes the Lye; and you have but too much already perceived they have confess’d my Flame: nor would I have you believe, that because I am the abandon’d Mistress of a King, I esteem myself altogether divested of Charms: No, Aboan; I have still a Rest of Beauty enough engaging, and have learn’d to please too well, not to be desirable. I can have Lovers still, but will have none but Aboan. Madam, (reply’d the half-feigning Youth) you have already, by my Eyes, found you can still conquer; and I believe ’tis in pity of me you condescend to this kind Confession. But, Madam, Words are used to be so small a Part of our Country-Courtship, that ’tis rare one can get so happy an Opportunity as to tell one’s Heart; and those few Minutes we have, are forced to be snatch’d for more certain Proofs of Love than speaking and sighing: and such I languish for.’
He spoke this with such a Tone, that she hoped it true, and could not forbear believing it; and being wholly transported with Joy for having subdued the finest of all the King’s Subjects to her Desires, she took from her Ears two large Pearls, and commanded him to wear ’em in his. He would have refused ’em, crying, Madam these are not the Proofs of our Love that I expect; ’tis Opportunity, ’tis a Lone-Hour only, that can make me happy. But forcing the Pearls into his Hand, she whisper’d softly to him; Oh! do not fear a Woman’s Invention, when Love sets her a thinking. And pressing his Hand, she cry’d, This Night you shall be happy. Come to the Gate of the Orange-Grove, behind the Otan, and I will be ready about midnight to receive you. ’Twas thus agreed, and she left him, that no Notice might be taken of their speaking together.
The Ladies were still dancing, and the King, laid on a Carpet, with a great deal of Pleasure was beholding them, especially Imoinda, who that Day appeared more lovely than ever, being enlivened with the good Tidings Onahal had brought her, of the constant Passion the Prince had for her. The Prince was laid on another Carpet at the other End of the Room, with his Eyes fixed on the Object of his Soul; and as she turned or moved, so did they; and she alone gave his Eyes and Soul their Motions. Nor did Imoinda employ her Eyes to any other use, than in beholding with infinite Pleasure the Joy she produced in those of the Prince. But while she was more regarding him than the Steps she took, she chanced to fall, and so near him, as that leaping with extreme Force from the Carpet, he caught her in his Arms as she fell; and ’twas visible to the whole Presence, the Joy wherewith he received her. He clasped her close to his Bosom, and quite forgot that Reverence that was due to the Mistress of a King, and that Punishment that is the Reward of a Boldness of this Nature. And had not the Presence of Mind of Imoinda (fonder of his Safety than her own) befriended him, in making her spring from his Arms, and fall into her Dance again, he had at that Instant met his Death; for the old King, jealous to the last Degree, rose up in Rage, broke all the Diversion, and led Imoinda to her Apartment, and sent out Word to the Prince, to go immediately to the Camp; and that if he were found another Night in Court, he should suffer the Death ordained for disobedient Offenders.
You may imagine how welcome this News was to Oroonoko, whose unseasonable Transport and Caress of Imoinda was blamed by all Men that loved him: and now he perceived his Fault, yet cry’d, That for such another Moment he would be content to die.
All the Otan was in Disorder about this Accident; and Onahal was particularly concern’d, because on the Prince’s Stay depended her Happiness; for she could no longer expect that of Aboan: So that e’er they departed, they contrived it so, that the Prince and he should both come that Night to the Grove of the Otan, which was all of Oranges and Citrons, and that there they would wait her Orders.
They parted thus with Grief enough ’till Night, leaving the King in Possession of the lovely Maid. But nothing could appease the Jealousy of the old Lover; he would not be imposed on, but would have it, that Imoinda made a false Step on Purpose to fall into Oroonoko’s Bosom, and that all things looked like a Design on both Sides; and ’twas in vain she protested her Innocence: He was old and obstinate, and left her, more than half assur’d that his Fear was true.
The King going to his Apartment, sent to know where the Prince was, and if he intended to obey his Command. The Messenger return’d, and told him, he found the Prince pensive, and altogether unprepar’d for the Campaign; that he lay negligently on the Ground, and answer’d very little. This confirmed the Jealousy of the King, and he commanded that they should very narrowly and privately watch his Motions; and that he should not stir from his Apartment, but one Spy or other should be employ’d to watch him: So that the Hour approaching, wherein he was to go to the Citron-Grove; and taking only Aboan along with him, he leaves his Apartment, and was watched to the very Gate of the Otan; where he was seen to enter, and where they left him, to carry back the Tidings to the King.
Oroonoko and Aboan were no sooner enter’d, but Onahal led the Prince to the Apartment of Imoinda; who, not knowing any thing of her Happiness, was laid in Bed. But Onahal only left him in her Chamber, to make the best of his Opportunity, and took her dear Aboan to her own; where he shewed the Height of Complaisance for his Prince, when, to give him an Opportunity, he suffered himself to be caressed in Bed by Onahal.
The Prince softly waken’d Imoinda, who was not a little surpriz’d with Joy to find him there; and yet she trembled with a thousand Fears. I believe he omitted saying nothing to this young Maid, that might persuade her to suffer him to seize his own, and take the Rights of Love. And I believe she was not long resisting those Arms where she so longed to be; and having Opportunity, Night, and Silence, Youth, Love, and Desire, he soon prevail’d, and ravished in a Moment what his old Grandfather had been endeavouring for so many Months.
’Tis not to be imagined the Satisfaction of these two young Lovers; nor the Vows she made him, that she remained a spotless Maid till that Night, and that what she did with his Grandfather had robb’d him of no Part of her Virgin-Honour; the Gods, in Mercy and Justice, having reserved that for her plighted Lord, to whom of Right it belonged. And ’tis impossible to express the Transports he suffer’d, while he listen’d to a Discourse so charming from her loved Lips; and clasped that Body in his Arms, for whom he had so long languished; and nothing now afflicted him, but his sudden Departure from her; for he told her the Necessity, and his Commands, but should depart satisfy’d in this, That since the old King had hitherto not been able to deprive him of those Enjoyments which only belonged to him, he believed for the future he would be less able to injure him; so that, abating the Scandal of the Veil, which was no otherwise so, than that she was Wife to another, he believed her safe, even in the Arms of the King, and innocent; yet would he have ventur’d at the Conquest of the World, and have given it all to have had her avoided that Honour of receiving the Royal Veil. ’Twas thus, between a thousand Caresses, that both bemoan’d the hard Fate of Youth and Beauty, so liable to that cruel Promotion: ’Twas a Glory that could well have been spared here, tho’ desired and aim’d at by all the young Females of that Kingdom.
But while they were thus fondly employ’d, forgetting how Time ran on, and that the Dawn must conduct him far away from his only Happiness, they heard a great Noise in the Otan, and unusual Voices of Men; at which the Prince, starting from the Arms of the frighted Imoinda, ran to a little Battle-Ax he used to wear by his Side; and having not so much Leisure as to put on his Habit, he opposed himself against some who were already opening the Door: which they did with so much Violence, that Oroonoko was not able to defend it; but was forced to cry out with a commanding Voice, ‘Whoever ye are that have the Boldness to attempt to approach this Apartment thus rudely; know, that I, the Prince Oroonoko, will revenge it with the certain Death of him that first enters: Therefore stand back, and know, this Place is sacred to Love and Me this Night; To-morrow ’tis the King’s.’
This he spoke with a Voice so resolv’d and assur’d, that they soon retired from the Door; but cry’d, ‘’Tis by the King’s Command we are come; and being satisfy’d by thy Voice, O Prince, as much as if we had enter’d, we can report to the King the Truth of all his Fears, and leave thee to provide for thy own Safety, as thou art advis’d by thy Friends.’
At these Words they departed, and left the Prince to take a short and sad Leave of his Imoinda; who, trusting in the Strength of her Charms, believed she should appease the Fury of a jealous King, by saying, she was surprized, and that it was by Force of Arms he got into her Apartment. All her Concern now was for his Life, and therefore she hasten’d him to the Camp, and with much ado prevail’d on him to go. Nor was it she alone that prevail’d; Aboan and Onahal both pleaded, and both assured him of a Lye that should be well enough contrived to secure Imoinda. So that at last, with a Heart sad as Death, dying Eyes, and sighing Soul, Oroonoko departed, and took his way to the Camp.
It was not long after, the King in Person came to the Otan; where beholding Imoinda, with Rage in his Eyes, he upbraided her Wickedness, and Perfidy; and threatning her Royal Lover, she fell on her Face at his Feet, bedewing the Floor with her Tears, and imploring his Pardon for a Fault which she had not with her Will committed; as Onahal, who was also prostrate with her, could testify: That, unknown to her, he had broke into her Apartment, and ravished her. She spoke this much against her Conscience; but to save her own Life, ’twas absolutely necessary she should feign this Falsity. She knew it could not injure the Prince, he being fled to an Army that would stand by him, against any Injuries that should assault him. However, this last Thought of Imoinda’s being ravished, changed the Measures of his Revenge; and whereas before he designed to be himself her Executioner, he now resolved she should not die. But as it is the greatest Crime in Nature amongst them, to touch a Woman after having been possess’d by a Son, a Father, or a Brother, so now he looked on Imoinda as a polluted thing wholly unfit for his Embrace; nor would he resign her to his Grandson, because she had received the Royal Veil: He therefore removes her from the Otan, with Onahal; whom he put into safe Hands, with Order they should be both sold off as Slaves to another Country, either Christian or Heathen, ’twas no Matter where.
This cruel Sentence, worse than Death, they implor’d might be reversed; but their Prayers were vain, and it was put in Execution accordingly, and that with so much Secrecy, that none, either without or within the Otan, knew any thing of their Absence, or their Destiny.
The old King nevertheless executed this with a great deal of Reluctancy; but he believed he had made a very great Conquest over himself, when he had once resolved, and had perform’d what he resolved. He believed now, that his Love had been unjust; and that he could not expect the Gods, or Captain of the Clouds (as they call the unknown Power) would suffer a better Consequence from so ill a Cause. He now begins to hold Oroonoko excused; and to say, he had reason for what he did. And now every body could assure the King how passionately Imoinda was beloved by the Prince; even those confess’d it now, who said the contrary before his Flame was not abated. So that the King being old, and not able to defend himself in War, and having no Sons of all his Race remaining alive, but only this, to maintain him on his Throne; and looking on this as a man disobliged, first by the Rape of his Mistress, or rather Wife, and now by depriving him wholly of her, he fear’d, might make him desperate, and do some cruel thing, either to himself or his old Grandfather the Offender, he began to repent him extremely of the Contempt he had, in his Rage, put on Imoinda. Besides, he consider’d he ought in Honour to have killed her for this Offence, if it had been one. He ought to have had so much Value and Consideration for a Maid of her Quality, as to have nobly put her to Death, and not to have sold her like a common Slave; the greatest Revenge, and the most disgraceful of any, and to which they a thousand times prefer Death, and implore it; as Imoinda did, but could not obtain that Honour. Seeing therefore it was certain that Oroonoko would highly resent this Affront, he thought good to make some Excuse for his Rashness to him; and to that End, he sent a Messenger to the Camp, with Orders to treat with him about the Matter, to gain his Pardon, and endeavour to mitigate his Grief: but that by no Means he should tell him she was sold, but secretly put to Death; for he knew he should never obtain his Pardon for the other.
When the Messenger came, he found the Prince upon the Point of engaging with the Enemy; but as soon as he heard of the Arrival of the Messenger, he commanded him to his Tent, where he embraced him, and received him with Joy; which was soon abated by the down-cast Looks of the Messenger, who was instantly demanded the Cause by Oroonoko; who, impatient of Delay, ask’d a thousand Questions in a Breath, and all concerning Imoinda. But there needed little Return; for he could almost answer himself of all he demanded, from his Sight and Eyes. At last the Messenger casting himself at the Prince’s Feet, and kissing them with all the Submission of a Man that had something to implore which he dreaded to utter, besought him to hear with Calmness what he had to deliver to him, and to call up all his noble and heroick Courage, to encounter with his Words, and defend himself against the ungrateful Things he had to relate. Oroonoko reply’d, with a deep Sigh, and a languishing Voice, —I am armed against their worst Efforts – For I know they will tell me, Imoinda is no more – And after that, you may spare the rest. Then, commanding him to rise, he laid himself on a Carpet, under a rich Pavilion, and remained a good while silent, and was hardly heard to sigh. When he was come a little to himself, the Messenger asked him Leave to deliver that Part of his Embassy which the Prince had not yet divin’d: And the Prince cry’d, I permit thee– Then he told him the Affliction the old King was in, for the Rashness he had committed in his Cruelty to Imoinda; and how he deign’d to ask Pardon for his Offence, and to implore the Prince would not suffer that Loss to touch his Heart too sensibly, which now all the Gods could not restore him, but might recompense him in Glory, which he begged he would pursue; and that Death, that common Revenger of all Injuries, would soon even the Account between him and a feeble old Man.