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ness,

He could not do a wrong! How would you serve Acas. I cannot guess your drift; him ?

Distrust you me? Cas. I'd serve him with my fortune here at Cham. No, but I fear her weakness home,

May make her pay her debt at any rate : And serve him with my person in his wars: And, to deal freely with your lordship's good Watch for him, fight for him, bleed for him. Pol. Die for him,

I've heard a story lately much disturbs me. As every true-born, loyal subject ought.

Acas. Then first charge her; and if th' offence Acas. Let me embrace ye both! now, by the

be found souls

Within my reach, though it should touch my Of my brave ancestors, I'm truly happy!

nature, For this, be ever bless'd my marriage day! In my own offspring, by the dear remembrance Bless'd be your mother's memory, that bore you; Of thy brave father, whom my heart rejoic'd in, And doubly bless'd be that auspicious hour I'd prosecute it with severest vengeance. (Ezk. That gave ye birth ?

Cham. I thank you, from my soul.

Mon. Alas, my brother! what have I done ? Enter a SERVANT.

My heart quakes in me; in your settled face, Sero. My lord, th' expected guests are just ar- And clouded brow, methinks I see my fate. riv'd.

You will not kill me? Acas, Go you and give 'em welcome and re- Cham. Pr’ythee, why dost thou talk so ? ception.

Mon. Look kindly on me then; I canot bear [Eruent Castalio and POLYDORE. Severity; it daunts, and does amaze me; Cham. My lord, I stand in need of your as- My heart's so tender, should you charge me rough, sistance,

I should but weep, and answer you with sobbing; In something that concerns my peace and honour, But use me gently, like a loving brother, Acas. Spoke like the son of that brave man I And search through all the secrets of my soul. lov'd!

Cham. Fear nothing, I will show myself a So freely, friendly, we convers'd together.

brother.
Whate'er it be, with confidence impart it; A tender, honest, and a loving brother.
Thou shalt command my fortune, and my sword. You've not forgot our father?
Cham. I dare not doubt your friendship, nor Mon. I never shall.

(man your justice,

Cham. Then you'll remember too he was a Your bounty shown to what I hold most dear,

That liv’d, up to the standard of his honour, My orphan sister, must not be forgotten! And priz'd that jewel more than mines of wealth: Acas. Pr’ythee no more of that, it grates my He'd not have done a shameful thing but once: nature.

Though kept in darkness from the world, and Cham. When our dear parents died, they died hidden, Logether;

He could not have forgiven it to himself. One fate surpris'd 'em, and one grave receiv'd This was the only portion that he left us;

And I more glory in't than if possess'd My father, with his dying breath, bequeath'd Of all that ever fortune threw on fools. Her to my love; my mother, as she lay 'Twas a large trust, and must be manag'd nicely; Languishing by him, call'd me to her side, Now, if by any chance, Monimia, Touk me in her fainting arms, wept, and em- You have soil'd this gem, and taken from its brac'd me;

How will you account with me? (value, Then press'd me close, and, as she observ'd my Mon. I challenge envy, tears,

Malice, and all the practices of hell, Kiss'd them away: said she, “Chamont, my son, To censure all the actions of my past By this, and all the love I ever show'd thee, Unhappy life, and taint me if they can! Be careful of Monimia: watch her youth;

Cham. I'll tell thee, then; three nights ago, as 1 Let not her wants betray her to dishonour; Lay musing on my bed, all darkness round me, Perhaps, kind Heaven may raise some friend." A sudden damp struck to my heart, cold sweat Then sigh’d,

Dew'd all my face, and trembling seiz'd my limbs: Kiss'd me again; so bless'd us, and expir'd. My bed shook under me, the curtains started, Pardon my grief.

And to my tortur'd fancy there appeard Acas. It speaks an honest nature.

The form of thee, thus beauteous as thou art; Cham. The friend Heaven rais'd was you; you Thy garments flowing loose, and in each hand took her up,

A wanton lover, who by turns caress'd thee An infant, to the desert world expos'd,

With all the freedom of unbounded pleasure. And prov'd another parent.

I snatch'd my sword, and in the very moment Acas. I've not wrong'd her.

Darted it at the phantom; straight it left me; Cham. Far be it from my fears.

Then rose, and call’d for lights, when, o dire Acas. Then why this argument ?

omen! Cham. My lord, my nature's jealous, and you'll I found my weapon had the arras pierc'd, bear it.

Just where that famous tale was interwoven, Acas. Go on.

How the unhappy Theban slew his father, Cham. Great spirits bear misfortunes hardly; Mon. And for this cause my virtue is suspected! Good offices claim gratitude; and pride, Because in dreams your fancy has been ridden, Where power is wanting, will usurp a little, I must be tortur'd waking! And make us (rather than be thought behind Cham. Have a care; hand)

Labour not to be justified too fast: Par över price.

Hear all, and then let justice hold the scale.

'em;

you?

What follow'd was the riddle that confounds me. For, O, Castalio, thou too much hast wrong'd Through a lose lane, as I pursu'd my journey,

me, And meditating on the last night's vision, In leaving me to Polydore's ill usage. | spy'd a wrinkled hag, with age grown double, He comes; and now, for once, O Love, stand Picking dry sticks, and mumbling to herself;

neuter, Her eyes with scalding rheum were gall’d and Whilst a hard part's performed; for I must tempt, red:

(wither'd, Wound his soft nature, though my heart aches Cold palsy shook her head, her hand seem'd

for't. And on her crooked shoulders had she wrapp'd

Re-enter CASTALIO.
The tatter'd remnant of an old striped hanging,
Which serv'd to keep her carcass from the cold:

Cas. Monimia, my angel ! 'twas not kind

To leave me here alone.
So there was nothing of a piece about her.
Her lower weeds were all o'er coarsely patch'd

Re-enter POLYDORE, with Page, at the door. With different colour'd rags, black, red, white, Pol. Here place yourself, and watch my broyellow,

ther thoroughly; And seem'd to speak variety of wretchedness. Pass not one circumstance without remark. I ask'd her of my way, which she inform'd me;

[Apart to Page, and erů. Then crav'd my charity, and bade me hasten Cas. When thou art from me, every place is To save a sister! at that word, I started !

desert, Mon. The common cheat of beggars; every And I, methinks, am savage and forlorn: day

Thy presence only 'tis can make me bless'd, They flock about our doors, pretend to gifts Heal my unquiet mind, and tune my soul. Of prophecy, and telling fools their fortunes. Mon. o the bewitching tongues of faithless Cham. Oh! but she told me such a tale, Mo

men! nimia,

'Tis thus the false hyena makes her moan, As in it bore great circumstance of truth: To draw the pitying traveller to her den: Castalio and Polydore, my sister.

Your sex are so, such false dissemblers all ; Mon. Ha !

With sighs and plaints y' entice poor women's Cham. What, alter'd ? does your courage fail hearts,

And all that pity you are made your prey. Now, by my father's soul, the witch was honest. Cas. What means my love ? Oh, how have 1 Answer me, if thou hast not lost them

deserv'd Thy honour at a sordid game?

This language from the sovereign of my joys ? Mon. I will,

Stop, stop these tears, Monimia, for they fall I must, so hardly my misfortune loads me :- Like baneful dew from a distemper'd sky: l'hat both have offer'd me their love 's most true. I feel 'em chill me to my very heart. Cham. And 'tis as true too they have both un- Mon. Oh, you are false, Castalio, most for. done thee.

sworn! Mon. Though they both with earnest vows Attempt no further to delude my faith, Have press'd my heart, if e'er in thought I yielded My heart is fix'd, and you shall shake't no more. To any but Castalio

Cas. Who told you so; what hell-bred villain Cham. But Castalio!

durst Mon. Still will you cross the line of my discourse. Profane the sacred business of my love ? Yes, I confess that he hath won my soul

Mon. Your brother, knowing on what terms By generous love and honourable vows,

I'm here, Which he this day appointed to complete, Th' unhappy object of your father's charity, And make himself by holy marriage mine. Licentiously discours'd to me of love, Cram. Art thou then spotless ? 'hast thou still And durst affront me with his brutal passion. preserv'd

Cas. 'Tis I have been to blame, and only I; Thy virtue white, without a blot, untainted ? False to my brother, and unjust to thee. Mon. When I'm unchaste, may Heaven reject For, oh! he loves thee too, and this day own'd it, my prayers;

Tax'd me with mine, and claim'd a right above O more, to make me wretched, may you know it! Cham. Oh, then, Monimia, art thou dearer to Mon. And was your love so very tame, man

shrink? Than all the comforts ever yet bless'd man. Or, rather than lose him, abandon me? But let not marriage bait thee to thy ruin. Cas. I, knowing him precipitate and rash, Trust not a man; we are by nature false, Seem'd to comply with his unruly will; Dissembling, subtle, cruel, and inconstant : Lest he in rage might have our loves betray'd, When a man talks of love, with caution trust And I for ever had Monimia lost.

Mon. Could you then, did you, can you own it But if he swears, he'll certainly deceive thee.

too? I charge thee, let no more Castalio soothe thee; 'Twas poorly done, unworthy of yourself? Avoid it, as thou wouldst preserve the peace And I can never think you meant me fair. Of a poor brother, to whose soul thou’rt precious. Cas. Is this Monimia ? Surely, no! till now Mon. I will

I ever thought her dove-like, soft, and kind. Cham. Appear as cold, when next you meet, Who trusts his heart with woman 's surely lost; as great ones,

You were made fair on purpose to undo us, When merit begs; then shalt thou see how soon While greedily we snatch th' alluring bait, His heart will cool, and all his pains grow easy.

And ne'er distrust the poison that it hides.

(Erit. Mon. When love, ill-plac'd, would find a means Mon. Yes, I will try him, torture him severely;

to break

me.

me

him;

Cos It never wants pretences or excuse.

Enter a SERVANT. Mo 1. Man therefore was a lord-like creature Sero. Oh, the unhappiest tidings tongue e'er made

told ! Rough as the winds, and as inconstant too:

Pol. The matter? A lofty aspect given him for command;

Sero. Oh! your father, my good master, Easily soften'd when he would betray.

As with his guests he sat in mirth rais'd high, Like conquering tyrants, you our breasts invade; And chas'd the goblet round the joyful board, But soon you find new conquests out, and leave A sudden trembling seiz'd on all his limbs; The ravag'd province ruinate and waste. His eyes distorted grew, his visage pale, If so, Castalio, you have serv'd my heart, His speech forsook him, life itself seemd fled, I find that desolation 's settled there,

And all his friends are waiting now about him. And I shall ne'er recover peace again. Cas. Who can hear this and bear an equal

Enter Acasto and Attendants. mind?

Acas. Support me, give me air, I'll yet recover. Since you will drive me from you, I must go: 'Twas but a slip decaying nature made; But, O Monimia ! when thou hast banish

me, For she grows weary near her journey's end. No creeping slave, though tractable and dull, Where are my sons ? come near, my Polydore! As artful woman for her ends would choose, Your brother—where 's Castalio? Shall ever dote as I have done.

Serv. My lord, Mon. Castalio, stay! we must not part. I find I've search'd, as you commanded, all the house! My rage ebbs out, and love flows in apace. He and Monimia are not to be found. These little quarrels love must needs forgive. Acas. Not to be found ? then where are all my Oh! charm me with the music of thy tongue,

friends? I'm ne'er so bless'd as when I hear thy vows, 'Tis wellAnd listen to the language of thy heart. I hope they'll pardon an unhappy fault Cas. Where am I? Surely, Paradise is round My unmannerly infirmity has made ! me!

Death could not come in a more welcome hour; Sweets planted by the hand of Heaven grow For I'm prepar'd to meet him; and, methinks, here,

Would live and die with all my friends about me. And every sense is full of thy perfection.

Enter Castalio.
Sure, framing thee, Heaven took unusual care;
As its own beauty it design'd thee fair,

Cas. Angels preserve my dearest father's life! And form'd thee by the best lov'd angel there.

Oh! may he live till time itself decay, (Eseunt.

Till good men wish him dead, or I offend him!

Acas. Thank you, Castalio : give me both your ACT III.

hands.

So now, methinks,
SCENE I.-A Garden,

1 appear as great as Hercules himself,
Enter POLYDORE and Page.

Supported by the pillars he has rais'd. Pol. Were they so kind ? Express it to me all

Enter SERINA. In words; twill make me think I saw it too.

Ser. My father! Page. At first I thought they had been mortal

Acas. My heart's darling. foes :

Ser. Let my knees Monimia rag'd, Castalio grew disturb'd:

Fix to the earth. Ne'er let my eyes have rest Each thought the other wrong'd; yet both so

But wake and weep, till Heaven restore my father haughty,

Acas. Rise to my arms, and thy kind prayers They scorn'ó submission, though love all the For thou’rt a wondrous extract of all goodness;

are answer'd. while The rebel play'd, and scarce could be contain'd.

Born for my joy, and no pain 's felt when near Pol. But what succeeded ?

Chamont !

(thee Page. Oh, 'twas wondrous pretty!

Enter CHAMONT. For of a sudden all the storm was past:

Cham. My lord, may't prove not an unlucky A gentle calm of love succeeded it:

omen! Monimia sigh'd and blush'd; Castalio swore; Many I see are waiting round about you, As you, my lord, I well remember, did

And I am come to ask a blessing too.
To my young sister, in the orange grove,

Aras. May'st thou be happy!
When I was first preferr'd to be your page. Cham. Where?
Pol. Boy, go to your chamber, and prepare Acas. In all thy wishes.

[Erit PAGE. Cham. Confirm me so, and make this fan Happy Castalio! now, by my great soul,

one mine: My ambitious soul, that languishes to glory, I am unpractis'd in the trade of courtship, L'll have her yet; by my best hopes, I will; And know not how to deal love out with art: She shall be mine, in spite of all her arts. Onsets in love seem best like those in war, But for Castalio, why was I refus'd ?

Fierce, resolute, and done with all the force; Has he supplanted me by some foul play? So I would open my whole heart at once, Traduc'd my honour ? death! he durst not do't. And pour out the abundance of my soul. It must be so: we parted, and he met her,

Acas. What says Serina ? canst thou love a Half to compliance brought by me; surpris'd

soldier ? TIer sinking virtue, till she yielded quite. One born to honour, and to honour bred? So poachers pick up tired game,

One that has learn'd to treat e'en foes with kind While the fair hunter 's cheated of his prey.

ness, Boy!

To wrong no good man's fame, nor praise him

your lute.

trust you.

Ser. Oh! name not love, for that 's allied to Cham. How wrong'd her ? have a care; for joy;

this may lay And joy must be a stranger to my heart, A scene of mischief to undo us all. When you're in danger. May Chamont's good But tell me, wrong'd her, saidst thou ? fortune

Chap. Ay, Sir, wrong'd her. Render him lovely to some happier maid !

Cham. This is a secret worth a monarch's forWhilst I, at friendly distance, see him bless'd,

tune:

(cian Praise the kind gods, and wonder at his virtues. What shall I give thee for't ? thou dear physiAcas. Chamont, pursue her, conquer, and pos- of sickly wounds, unfold this riddle to me, sess her,

And comfort mineAnd, as my son, a third of all my fortune Chap. I would hide nothing from you willingly. Shall be thy lot.

Cham. By the reverenc'd soul Chamont, you told me of some doubts that press's Of that great honest man that gave me being, you:

Tell me but what thou know'st concerns my Are you yet satisfied that I'm your friend?

honour, Cham. My lord, I would not lose that satisfac- And, if I e'er reveal it to thy wrong, tion,

May this good sworu ne'er do me right in battle! For any blessing I could wish for:

May I ne'er know that blessed peace of mind, As to my fears, already I have lost them: That dwells in good and pious men like thee! They ne'er shall vex me more, nor trouble you. Chap. I see your temper's mov'd and I will

Acas. I thank you. My friends, 'tis late:

Cham. Wilt thou ? Now my disorder seems all past and over,

Chap. I will; but if it ever 'scape you— And I, methinks, begin to feel new health. [quite.

Cham. It never shall. Cas. Would you but rest, it might restore you Chap. Then, this good day, when all the house Acas. Yes, I'll to bed; old men must humour

was busy, weakness.

When mirth and kind rejoicing fill'd each room, Good night, my friends! Heaven guard you all! As I was walking in the grove I met them. Good night!

Cham. What, met them in the grove together ? To-morrow early we'll salute the day,

Chap. 1, by their own appointment, met them Find out new pleasures, and renew lost time.

there,

[hands. (Eseunt all but Chamont and CHAPLAIN. Receiv'd their marriage vows, and join'd their Cham. If you're at leisure, Sir, we'll waste an

Cham. How ! married ? hour:

Chap. Yes, Sir. 'Tis yet too soon to sleep, and 'twill be charity Cham. Then my soul 's at peace: To lend your conversation to a stranger. But why would you so long delay to give it? Chap. Sir, you're a soldier ?

Chap. Not knowing what reception it may find Cham. Yes.

With old Acasto; may be, I was too cautious Chap. I love a soldier ;

To trust the secret from me. And had been one myself, but that my parents

Cham. What 's the cause Would make me what you see me.

I cannot guess, though 'tis my sister's honour, Cham. Have you had long dependence on this I do not like this marriage, family

Huddled i' the dark, and done at too much venChap. I have not thought it so, because my The business looks with an unlucky face. time 's

Keep still the secret : for it ne'er shall ’scape me, Spent pleasantly. My lord 's not haughty nor Not e’en to them, the new-match'd pair. Farewell! imperious,

Believe the truth, and me for thy friend. (Ereunt. Nor I gravely whimsical: he has good nature.

Re-enter Castalio, with MONIMIA.
His sons too are civil to me, because
I do not pretend to be wiser than they are;

Cas. Young Chamont and the chaplain! sure I meddle with no man's business but my own,

'tis they!

No matter what's contriv’d, or who consulted, So meet with respect, and am not the jest of the Since my Monimia's mine; though this sad look family.

Seems no good boding omen to our bliss; Cham. I'm glad you are so happy.

Else, pr’ythee, tell me why that look cast down, A pleasant fellow this, and may be useful.

Why that sad sigh, as if thy heart was breaking ? [Aside.

Mon. Castalio, I am thinking what we've Knew you my father, the old Chamont ? Chap. I did: and' was most sorry when we The heavenly powers were sure displeas'd to.

[day; lost him.

For, at the ceremony as we stood, Cham. Why, didst thou love him? Chap. Every body loved him; besides, he was As the good priest pronounc'd the sacred words,

And as your hand was kindly join'd with mine, my patron's friend. Cham. I could embrace thee for that very notion: Tears drown'd my eyes, and trembling seiz'd my

Passion grew big, and I could not forbear: If thou didst love my father, I could think

soul. Thou wouldst not be an enemy to me.

What should that mean? Chap. I can be no man's foe.

Cas. 0, thou art tender all!
Cham. Then pr’ythee, tell me;

Gentle and kind as sympathising nature !
Think'st thou the lord Castalio loves my sister ?
Chap. Love your sister ?

Re-enter POLYDORE, unobserved.
Cham. Ay, love her.

But wherefore do I dally with my bliss ? Chap. Either he loves her or he much has The night 's far spent, and day draws on apace . wrong'd her.

To bed, my love, and wake till I come thither

(ture;

done;

tut Mon. 'Twill be impossible : WOH

Pol. That is, henceforward making league You know your father's chamber's next to mine, And the least noise will certainly alarm him. Cas. Nay, if ye're angry, Polydore, goed Cas. No more, my blessing wees om night.

Rrit. What shall be the sign?

Pol. Good night, Castalio, if ye're in such When shall I come for to my joys I'll steal,

haste. As if I ne'er had paid my freedom for them. He little thinks I've overheard th' appointment: Mon. Just three soft strokes upon the chamber But to his chamber 's gone to wait awhile, door,

Then come and take possession of my love. And at that signal you shall gain admittance: This is the utmost point of all my hopes; But speak not the least word; for, if you should, Or now she must, or never can be mine. 'Tis surely heard, and all will be betray'd. Oh, for a means now how to counterplot,

Cas. Oh! doubt it not, Monimia; our joys And disappoint this happy elder brother! Shall be as silent as the ecstatic bliss

In every thing we do or undertake, Of souls, that by intelligence converse.

He soars above me, mount what height I can, Away, my love! first take this kiss. Now, And keeps the start he got of me in birth. Tolmin haste:

Cordelio I long for that to come, yet grudge each minute

Re-enter PAGE. past.

ya My brother wand'ring too so late this way! Page. My lord !

[Exit MONIMIA.

Pol. Come hither, boy! Pol. Castalio!

Thou hast a pretty, forward, lying face, Cas. My Polydore, how durst thou? And may'st in time expect preferment. Canst How does our father is he well recover'd ?

thou ser Pol. I left hine happily repos'd to rest

:) Pretend to secrecy, cajole and flatter He's still as gay as if his life was young. Thy master's follies, and assist his pleasures! But how does fair Monimia ?

Page. My lord, I could do any thing for you, Cas. Doubtless, well:

And ever be a very faithful boy. A cruel beauty, with her conquest pleas'd, Command, whate'er 's your pleasure I'll observe; is always joyful, and her mind in health. Be it to run, or watch, or to convey a Pol. Is she the same Monimia still she was? A letter to a beauteous lady's bosom: May we not hope she's made of mortal mould ? At least, I am not dull, and soon should learn. Čas. She 's not woman else:

Pol. 'Tis pity then thou shouldst not be em Though I'm grown weary of this tedious hoping; ployd. We've in a barren desert stray'd too long. Go to my brother, he's in his chamber now,

Pol. Yet may relief be unexpected found, Undressing, and preparing for his rest; And love's sweet manna cover all the field. Find out some means to keep him up awhile: Met ye to-day?

V Tell him a pretty story, that may please Cas. No; she has still avoided me; taunit His ear; invent a tale, no matter what: I wish I'd never meddled with the matter If he should ask of me, tell him I'm gone And would enjoin thee, Polydore

To bed, and sent you there to know his pleasure, Pol. To what?

Whether he'll hunt to-morrow. - Cas. To leave this peevish beauty to herself. But do not leave him till he's in his bed; Pol. What, quit my love? as soon I'd quit my Or, if he chance to walk again this way, post

Follow, and do not quit him, but seem fond In fight, and like a coward run away.

To do him little offices of service.
No, by my stars, I'll chase her till she yields Perhaps at last it may offend him; then
To me, or meets her rescue in another. Retire, and wait till I come in. Away!

Cas. But I have wondrous reasons on my side, Succeed in this, and be employ'd again.
That would persuade thee, were they known. Page. Doubt not, my lord: he has been al-

Pol. Then speak 'em:
What are they? Came ye to her window here To me; would often set me on his knee,
To learn 'em now? Castalio, have a care; Then give me sweetmeats, call me pretty boy,
Use honest dealing with a friend and brother. And ask me what the maids talk'd of at nights.
Believe me, I'm not with my love so blinded, Pol. Run quickly then, and prosp'rous be thy
But can discern your purpose to abuse me.

I wishes. Quit your pretences to her.

Here I'm alone, and fit for mischief. You say you've reasons: why are they conceal'd? I heard the sign she order'd him to give. Cas. To-morrow I may tell you.

"Just three soft strokes against the chamber door Pol. Why not now?

But speak not the least word, for, if you should, Cas. It is a matter of such consequence, It 's surely heard, and we are both betray'd." As I must well consult ere I reveal.

Bless'd Heaven, assist me but in this dear hour, But pr’ythee cease to think I would abuse thee, And, my kind stars, be but propitious now, Till more be known.

Dispose of me hereafter as you please. Pol. When you, Castalio, cease

Monimia! Monimia ! [ Gives the sign To meet Monimia unknown to me,

Flo. (At the windoro.] Who's there? And then deny it slavishly, I'll cease

Pol. 'Tis I. To think Castalio faithless to his friend

Flo. My lord Castalio ?

Do Did I not see you part this very moment? Pol. The same.

Cas. It seems you've watch'd me, then? 108 How does my love, my dear Monimia ? 6 Pol. I scorn the office.

TI

Flo. Oh!
Cas. Pr’ythee avoid a thing thou may'st repent. She wonders much at your unkind delay;

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