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Dash thee disdainfully away? with scorn?

Mon. He did! and more, I fear, will ne'er be friends,

Though I still love him with unbated passion.
Cha. What, throw thee from him!
Mon. Yes, indeed he did.

Cha. So may this arm
Throw him to the earth, like a dead dog despised!
Lameness and leprosy, blindness and lunacy,
Poverty, shame, pride, and the name of villain,
Light on me, if, Castalio, I forgive thee!

Mon. Nay, now, Chamont, art thou unkind as he is!

Didst thou not promise me thou wouldst be calm?

Keep my disgrace concealed? Why shouldst thou kill him?

By all my love, this arm should do him vengeance.
Alas! I love him still, and though I ne'er
Clasp him again within these longing arms,
Yet bless him, bless him, gods! where'er he goes.
Enter ACASTO.

Acast. Sure some ill fate is towards me; in
my house

I only meet with oddness and disorder;
Each vassal has a wild distracted face,
And looks as full of business as a blockhead
In times of danger. Just this very moment
I met Castalio-

Cha. Then you met a villain.

Acast. Ha!

Cha. Yes, a villain.

Acast. Have a care, young soldier,

How thou'rt too busy with Acasto's fame.

I have a sword, my arm's good old acquaintance; Villain to thee!

Cha. Curse on thy scandalous age,
Which hinders me to rush upon thy throat,
And tear the root up of that cursed bramble!
Acast. Ungrateful ruffian! sure my good old
friend

Was ne'er thy father; nothing of him is in thee.
What have I done in my unhappy age,
To be thus used? I scorn to upbraid thee, boy;
But I could put thee in remembrance-

Cha. Do.

Acast. I scorn it

Cha. No, I'll calmly hear the story, For I would fain know all, to see which scale Weighs most-Ha! is not that good old Acasto? What have I done? Can you forgive this folly?

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Whence came the cause?

Cha. Indeed I've been to blame;

[Raises him.

But I'll learn better; for you've been my father.

You have been her father too

[Takes MON. by the hand. Acast. Forbear the prologue And let me know the substance of thy tale.

Cha. You took her up, a little tender flower, Just sprouted on a bank, which the next frost Had nipped; and, with a careful loving hand, Transplanted her into your own fair garden, Where the sun always shines. There long she flourished,

Grew sweet to sense, and lovely to the eye;
"Till at the last a cruel spoiler came,
Cropt this fair rose, and rifled all its sweetness,
Then cast it, like a loathsome weed, away.

Acast. You talk to me in parables, Chamont.
You may have known, that I am no wordy man;
Fine speeches are the instruments of knaves,
Of fools, that use them, when they want good

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Your son Castalio has wronged Monimia.

Acast. Ha! wronged her?

Cha. Married her.

Acast. I am sorry for it.

Cha. Why sorry?

By yon blest heaven, there's not a lord
But might be proud to take her to his heart!
Acast. I'll not deny it.

Cha. You dare not! By the gods you dare not; All your family combined

In one damned falsehood to outdo Castalio,
Dare not deny it.

Acast. How has Castalio wronged her?
Cha. Ask that of him. I say, my sister's
wronged:
Monimia, my sister, born as high
And noble as Castalio-Do her justice,
Or, by the gods, I'll lay a scene of blood,
Shall make this dwelling horrible to nature.
I'll do't. Hark you, my lord! your son Castalio;

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Is there so wretched as Monimia?
First by Castalio cruelly forsaken;
I've lost Acasto now: his parting frowns
May well instruct me, rage is in his heart:
I shall be next abandoned to my fortune,
Thrust out a naked wanderer to the world,
And branded for the mischievous Monimia!
What will become of me? my cruel brother
Is framing mischiefs too, for aught I know,
That may produce bloodshed and horrid murder.
I would not be the cause of one man's death
To reign the empress of the earth; nay more,
I'd rather lose, for ever, my Castalio,
My dear unkind Castalio!

Enter POLYDORE.

Pol. Monimia, weeping!

So morning dews on new-blown roses lodge,
By the sun's amorous heat to be exhaled."
I come, my love, to kiss all sorrow from thee:
What mean these sighs? And why thus beats thy
heart?

Mon. Let me alone to sorrow. 'Tis a cause
None e'er shall know: but it shall with me die.
Pol. Happy, Monimia, he, to whom these sighs,
These tears, and all these languishings, are paid!
I am no stranger to your dearest secret:
I know your heart was never meant for me;
That jewel's for an elder brother's price.
Mon. My lord!

Pol. Nay, wonder not; last night I heard His oaths, your vows, and to my torment saw Your wild embraces; heard the appointment

made;

I did, Monimia, and cursed the sound.

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quiet,

And drown your soul in wretchedness for ever;
A thousand horrid thoughts crowd on my memory.
Will you be kind, and answer me one question?
Pol. I'll trust thee with my life; on these soft
breasts

Breathe out the choicest secrets of my heart,
Till I have nothing in my heart but love.
Mon. Nay, I'll conjure you by the gods and
angels,

By the honour of your name, that's most concerned,

To tell me, Polydore, and tell me truly,
Where did you rest last night?

Pol. Within thy arms

I triumphed! rest had been my foe.
Mon. 'Tis done-

[She faints.
Pol. She faints! No help! who waits? A curse
Upon my vanity, that could not keep
The secret of my happiness in silence.
Confusion! we shall be surprised anon,
And consequently all must be betrayed.
Monimia! She breathes-Monimia-
Mon. Well-

Let mischiefs multiply! Let every hour
Of my loathed life yield me increase of horror!
Oh, let the sun to these unhappy eyes
Ne'er shine again, but be eclipsed for ever;
May every thing, I look on, seem a prodigy,
To fill my soul with terrors, till I quite
Forget I ever had humanity,
And grow a curser of the works of nature!
Pol. What means all this?

Mon. Oh, Polydore, if all

The friendship e'er you vowed to good Castalio
Be not a falsehood; if you ever loved
Your brother, you've undone yourself and me.
Pol. Which way can ruin reach the man that's
rich,

As I am, in possession of thy sweetness?
Mon. Oh! I am his wife.

Pol. What says Monimia! ha!

Wilt thou be sworn, my love? wilt thou be ne'er Speak that again. Unkind again?

Mon. Banish such fruitless hopes !

Have you swore constancy to my undoing?
Will you be ne'er my friend again?
Pol. What means my love?

Mon. Away; what meant my lord

Last night?

Pol. Is that a question now to be demanded? I hope Monimia was not much displeased.

Mon. I am Castalio's wife.
Pol. His married, wedded wife?
Mon. Yesterday's sun

Saw it performed.

Pol. And then, have I enjoyed My brother's wife?

Mon. As surely as we both

Must taste of misery, that guilt is thine.

Pol. Must we be miserable then?

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Mon. To become a thing

More wretched than its parents, to be branded
With all our infamy, and curse its birth.
Pol. That's well contrived.
Then thus I'll go,

Full of my guilt, distracted where to roam,
Like the first wretched pair expelled their para-
dise.

I'll find some place, where adders nest in winter,
Loathsome and venomous: where poisons hang,
Like gums, against the walls: where witches meet
By night, and feed upon some pampered imp,
Fat with the blood of babes: there I'll inhabit,
And live up to the height of desperation;
Desire shall languish like a withering flower,
And no distinction of the sex be thought of.
Horrors shall fright me from those pleasing harms,
And I'll no more be caught with beauty's charms,
But, when I'm dying, take me in thy arms.

[Exeunt.

ACT V.

SCENE I.-A Garden.

CASTALIO lying on the ground.-Soft music.

SONG.

Come, all ye youths, whose hearts e'er bled
By cruel beauty's pride;

Bring each a garland on his head,
Let none his sorrows hide:

But hand in hand around me move,
Singing the saddest tales of love;

And see, when your complaints ye join,
If all your wrongs can equal mine.
The happiest mortal once was I;
My heart no sorrows knew ;
Pity the pain with which I die,
But ask not whence it grew.
Yet if a tempting fair you find,
That's very lovely, very kind,

Though bright as heaven, whose stamp she bears,
Think of my fute, and shun her snares.

See where the deer trot after one another,
Male, female, father, daughter, mother, son,
Brother and sister, mingled all together.
No discontent they know; but in delightful
Wildness and freedom, pleasant springs, fresh
herbage,

Calm arbours, lusty health and innocence,
Enjoy their portion; if they see a man,
How will they turn together all, and gaze
Upon the monster-

Once in a season too they taste of love:
Only the beast of reason is its slave,

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To my own choice.

Acast. I say, no more dispute.

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Complaints are made to me, that you have I promised you to do Monimia right,

wronged her.

Cast. Who has complained?

And thought my word a pledge, I would not for

feit:

Acast. Her brother, to my face, proclaimed her But you, I find, would fright us to performance.

wronged,

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Cha. Where is the hero, famous and renowned For wronging innocence and breaking vows? Whose mighty spirit, and whose stubborn heart, No woman can appease, nor man provoke?

Acust. I guess, Chamont, you come to seek Castalio.

Cha. I come to seek the husband of Monimia. Cast. The slave is here.

Cha. I thought e'er now to have found you Atoning for the ills you have done Chamont; For you have wronged the dearest part of him. Monimia, young lord, weeps in this heart; And all the tears, thy injuries have drawn From her poor eyes, are drops of blood from

hence.

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Cast. Sir, in my younger years, with care you

taught me,

That brave revenge was due to injured honour:
Oppose not then the justice of my sword,
Lest you should make me jealous of your love.
Cha. Into thy father's arms thou fliest for
safety,

Because thou knowest that place is sanctified
With the remembrance of an ancient friendship.

Cast. I am a villain, if I will not seek thee, Till I may be revenged for all the wrongs, Done me by that ungrateful fair, thou plead'st for. Cha. She wronged thee! by the fury in my

heart,

Thy father's honour's not above Monimia's; Nor was thy mother's truth and virtue fairer.

Acast. Boy, don't disturb the ashes of the dead With thy capricious follies. The remembrance Of the loved creature, that once filled these

arms

Cha. Has not been wronged. Cast. It shall not.

Cha. No, nor shall

Monimia, though a helpless orphan, destitute
Of friends and fortune, though the unhappy sister
Of poor Chamont, whose sword is all his portion,
Be opprest by thee, thou proud imperious traitor!
Cast. Ha! set me free.
Cha, Come both.

Enter SERINA.

Ser. Alas! alas!

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Sheath up thy angry sword, and don't affright me.
Chamont, let once Serina calm thy breast:
If any of my friends have done thee injuries,
I'll be revenged, and love thee better for it.

Cast. Sir, if you'd have me think you did not take

This opportunity to shew your vanity,
Let's meet some other time, when by ourselves
We fairly may dispute our wrongs together.
Cha. Till then, I am Castalio's friend.

Cast. Serina,

Farewell: I wish much happiness attend you. Ser. Chamont's the dearest thing I have on earth;

Give me Chamont, and let the world forsake me.
Cha. Witness the gods, how happy I'm in thee!
No beauteous blossom of the fragrant spring,
Though the fair child of nature, newly born,
Can be so lovely. Angry, unkind Castalio,
Suppose I should a while lay by my passions,
And be a beggar in Monimia's cause,
Might I be heard?

Cast. Sir, 'twas my last request,
You would, though I find you'll not be satisfied;
So, in a word, Monimia is my scorn;
She basely sent you here to try my fears;
That was your business;

No artful prostitute, in falsehoods practised,
To make advantage of her coxcomb's follies,
Could have done more.-Disquiet vex her for it!
Cha, Farewell.
[Exit CHA. and SER:

Cast. Farewell-My father, you seem troubled.
Acast. Would I'd been absent, when this
boisterous brave

Came to disturb thee thus, I'm grieved I hin

dered

Thy just resentment. But Monimia

Cast. Damn her.

Acast. Don't curse her,

Cast. Did I?

Acast. Yes.

Cast. I'm sorry for it,

Except she see you, sure she'll grow distracted.
Cast. Ha! will she? Does she name Castalio?
And with such tenderness? Conduct me quickly
To the poor lovely mourner. Oh, my father!
Acast. Then wilt thou go? Blessings attend
thy purpose!

Cast. I cannot hear Monimia's soul's in sadness,
And be a man; my heart will not forget her;
But do not tell the world you saw this of me.

Acust. Delay not then, but haste and cheer thy love.

Gast. Oh! I will throw my impatient arms
about her,

In her soft bosom sigh my soul to peace,
Till through the panting breast she finds the way
To mould my heart, and make it what she will.
Monimia! oh!
[Exeunt ACASTO and CAST.

SCENE II.

A Chamber. Enter MONIMIA.
Mon. Stand off, and give me room!

I will not rest till I have found Castalio,
My wishes' lord, comely as the rising day,
Amidst ten thousand eminently known!
Flowers spring where'er he treads; his eyes,
Fountains of brightness, cheering all about him!
When will they shine on me?-Oh, stay my soul!

Acast. Methinks, if, as I guess, the fault's but I cannot die in peace till I have seen him.

small,

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Acast. I'll send and bring her hither.
Cast. No.

Acast. For my sake,

Castalio, and the quiet of my age.

Gast. Why will you urge a thing my nature starts at?

Acast. Prithee forgive her.

Cust. Lightnings first shall blast me.

I tell you, were she prostrate at my feet,
Full of her sex's best dissembled sorrows,
And all that wond'rous beauty of her own,
My heart might break, but it should never soften.

Enter FLORElla.

CASTALIO within.

Cast. Who talks of dying with a voice so sweet,
That life's in love with't?

Mon. Hark! 'tis he that answers.
So, in a camp, though at the dead of night,
If but the trumpet's cheerful noise is heard,
All at the signal leap from downy rest,

And every heart awakes, as mine does now.
Where art thou?

Cast. [Entering.] Here, my love.

Mon. No nearer, lest I vanish.

Cast. Have I been in a dream, then, all this

while?

And art thou but the shadow of Monimia ?
Why dost thou fly me thus ?

Mon. Oh, were it possible, that we could drown
In dark oblivion but a few past hours,
We might be happy.

Gast. Is't then so hard, Monimia, to forgive
A fault, where humble love, like mine, implores
thee?

For I must love thee, though it prove my ruin.
Which way shall I court thee?

Flor. My lord, where are you! Oh, Castalio! What shall I do to be enough thy slave,
Acast. Hark.

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And satisfy the lovely pride that's in thee?
I'll kneel to thee, and weep a flood before thee.
Yet prithee, tyrant, break not quite my heart;
But when my task of penitence is done,
Heal it again, and comfort me with love.

Mon. If I am dumb, Castalio, and want words
To pay thee back this mighty tenderness,
It is because I look on thee with horror,
And cannot see the man I so have wronged.
Cast. Thou hast not wronged me.
Mon. Ah! alas, thou talk'st

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