Cast. Monimia, Monimia!She's gone; Fast bound in chains, to be chastised at will. Enter POLYDORE and Page at the door. If he should chance to meet Monimia, make [Exit Pol. Enter MONIMIA and CASTALIO. Tis thus the false hyæna makes her moan, And all, that pity you, are made your prey. Cast. What means my love? Oh, how have I deserved This language, from the sovereign of my joys? Mon. Oh, you are false, Castalio, most forsworn! Attempt no farther to delude my faith; durst Profane the sacred business of my love? VoL. I. Mon. And was your love so very tame, to shrink? Or, rather than lose him, abandon me? Cast. I, knowing him precipitate and rash, To calm his heat, and to conceal my happiness, Seemed to comply with his unruly will; Talked as he talked, and granted all he asked; Lest he in rage might have our loves betrayed, And I for ever had Monimia lost. Mon. Could you then? did you? can you own it too? 'Twas poorly done, unworthy of yourself! And I can never think you meant me fair. Cast. Is this Monimia ? surely no; till now I ever thought her dove-like, soft, and kind. Who trusts his heart with woman is surely lost. You were made fair on purpose to undo us, While greedily we snatch the alluring bait, And ne'er distrust the poison, that it hides. Mon. When love ill-placed would find a means to break Cast. It never wants pretences or excuse. Mon. Man therefore was a lord-like creature nade, Rongh as the winds, and as inconstant too ; Cast. Who can hear this and bear an equal mind! Since you will drive me from you, I must go; But, oh, Monimia! When thou hast banished Pol. WERE they so kind? Express it to me all In words; 'twill make me think I saw it too. Page. At first I thought they had been mortal foes; Monimia raged, Castalio grew disturbed; Each thought the other wronged; yet both so haughty, They scorned submission: though love all the while The rebel played, and scarce could be contained. Pol. But what succeeded? Page. Oh, 'twas wondrous pretty! For, of a sudden, all the storm was past, A gentle calm of love succeeded it; Monimia sighed and blushed, Castalio swore; As you, my lord, I well remember, did To my young sister, in the orange grove, When I was first preferred to be your page. Pol. Happy Castalio! Now, by my great soul, My ambitious soul, that languishes for glory, I'll have her yet, by my best hopes I will!" She shall be mine, in spite of all her arts. But for Castalio why was I refused? Has he supplanted me by some foul play? Traduced my honour? Death! he durst not do it. It must be so we parted, and he met her, Half to compliance brought by me; surprised Her sinking virtue, till she yielded quite. So poachers basely pick up tired game, While the fair hunter is cheated of his prey. Boy! Page, My lord! Pol. Go to your chamber, and prepare your lute: Find out some song to please me, that describes Women's hypocrisies, their subtle wiles, Betraying smiles, feigned tears, inconstancies; Their painted outsides, and corrupted minds; The sum of all their follies, and their falsehoods. Enter Servant. His eyes distorted grew; his visage pale; Acast. Support me; give me air; I'll yet reco ver. 'Twas but a slip decaying nature made; Serv. My lord, I've searched, as you commanded, all the house; He and Monimia are not to be found. Acast. Not to be found! then where are all my friends? "Tis well; I hope they'll pardon an unhappy fault Enter CASTALIO and MONIMIA. Cast. Angels preserve my dearest father's life, Bless it with long uninterrupted days! Oh, may he live till time itself decay, "Till good men wish him dead, or I offend him! Acast. Thank you, Castalio; give me both your hands, And bear me up; I'd walk. So, now, methinks, Enter Chaplain. Chap. Heaven guard your lordship, and restore Acast. I have provided for thee, if I die. Serv. Oh, the unhappiest tidings tongue e'er Only to sweet Monimia I have bequeathed told! Pol. The matter! Sero. Oh! your father, my good master, As with his guests he sat, in mirth raised high, And chased the goblet round the joyful board, A sudden trembling seized on all his limbs; Ten thousand crowns; a little portion for her, Be not less friends because you are brothers; shun The man that's singular; his mind's unsound, His spleen o'erweighs his brains; but, above all, Calls saucy loud suspicion public zeal, 1 If you have children, never give them knowledge; Ser. My father! Fix to the earth. Ne'er let my eyes have rest, For thou art a wondrous extract of all goodness, Born for my joy, and no pains felt when near thee. Chamont! Whilst I, at friendly distance, see him blest, And, as my son, the third of all my fortune But keep thy eyes from wandering, man of frailty. They put false beauty off to all the world, tune. Mon., Hear ye that, my lord? Pol. Yes, my fair monitor, old men always talk thus. Acast. Chamont, you told me of some doubts, that pressed you; Are you vet satisfied that I'm your friend? For any blessing I could wish for. so too. My friends, 'tis late; Now my disorder seems all past and over, Acast. Yes, I'll to bed; old men must humour weakness: Let me have music, then, to lull and chase To-morrow early we'll salute the day, Cha. If you're at leisure, sir, we'll waste an hour. 'Tis yet too soon to sleep, and 'twill be charity To lend your conversation to a stranger. Chap. Sir, you are a soldier? Cha. Yes. Nor I gravely whimsical; he has good nature, His sons too are civil to me, because I do not pretend to be wiser than they are. I meddle with no man's business but my own; I rise in a morning early, study moderately, Cha. Why, what affrights thee? Who are not to be trusted with the secret. And hardly shall be mad enough to-night So meet with respect, and am not the jest of the To trust you with my ruin, family. Cha. I'm glad you are so happy. A pleasant fellow this, and may be useful. [Aside. Chap. I did, and was most sorry, when we lost Cha. Why? didst thou love him? Cha. I could embrace thee for that very notion. Cha. Then prithee tell me, Think'st thou the lord Castalio loves my sister? office Of all thy tribe that's honest? In your schools Cha. If thou wouldst have me not contemn And character, think all thy brethren knaves, Cha. How! wronged her? Have a care, for A scene of mischief to undo us all. Cha. This is a secret worth a monarch's for- What shall I give thee for it? Thou dear physician Chap. I would hide nothing from you willingly. Cha. Art thou then So far concerned in it? What has been thy office? Chap. Sir, I am not often used thus. Chap. So I shall be to the trust, Cha. By the reverenced soul Of that great honest man, that gave me being, honour, Cha. How, married! Cha. Then my soul's at peace. But why would you so long delay to give it. Chap. Not knowing what reception it may find Cha. What's the cause Keep still the secret; for it ne'er shall escape | But speak not the least word; for if you should, Cast. Young Chamont and the chaplain? sure 'tis they! No matter what's contrived, or who consulted, The heavenly powers were sure displeased to-day; And as your hand was kindly joined with mine, What should that mean? Cast. Oh, thou art tender all! Gentle and kind as sympathising nature! When a sad story has been told, I have seen Thy little breasts, with soft compassion swelled, Move up and down, and heave like dying birds. But now let fear be banished, think no more Of danger; for there's safety in my arms; Let them receive thee. Heaven grows jealous now; Sure she's too good for any mortal creature! ness. But wherefore do I dally with my bliss? You know your father's chamber is next to mine, Cast. Impossible! impossible! alas: Is it impossible to live one hour without thee? Let me behold those eyes; they'll tell me truth. Hast thou no longing? art thou still the same Cold, icy virgin? No; thou art altered quite : Haste, haste to bed, and let loose all thy wishes. Mon. 'Tis but one night, my lord; I pray be ruled. Cast. Try if thou hast power to stop a flowing tide, Or in a tempest make the seas be calm; And, when that is done, I'll conquer my desires. And at that signal you shall gain admittance : 'Tis surely heard, and all will be betrayed. Cast. My Polydore, how dost thou ? Cast. Doubtless, well: A cruel beauty, with her conquest pleased, Pol. Is she the same Monimia still she was? May we not hope she's made of mortal mould? Cast. She's not woman else: Though I am grown weary of this tedious hoping; We have in a barren desert strayed too long. Pol. Yet may relief be unexpected found, And love's sweet manna cover all the field. Met ye to-day? Cast. No; she has still avoided me: Her brother, too, is jealous of her grown, And has been hinting something to my father. I wish I had never meddled with the matter: And would enjoin thee, Polydore Pol. To what? Cast. To leave this peevish beauty to herself. Pol. What, quit my love? As soon I would quit my post In fight, and, like a coward, run away. Cast. Nay, she has beauty, that might shake the leagues Of mighty kings, and set the world at odds; What are they? Came ye to her window here, Cast. Grant I do; |