Enter Polydore and Page.Pol.Were they so kind? Express it to me allIn words; 'twill make me think I saw it too.Page.At first I thought they had been mortal foes:Monimia rag'd, Castalio grew disturb'd:Each thought the other wrong'd; yet both so haughty,They scorn'd submission, though love all the whileThe rebel play'd, and scarce could be contain'd.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 sigh'd and blush'd; Castalio swore;As you, my lord, I well remember, didTo my young sister, in the orange grove,When I was first preferr'd to be your page.Pol.Boy, go to your chamber, and prepare your lute.[exit Page.Happy Castalio! now, by my great soul,My ambitious soul, that languishes to 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 refus'd?Has he supplanted me by some foul play?Traduc'd my honour? death! he durst not do't.It must be so: we parted, and he met her,Half to compliance brought by me; surpris'dHer sinking virtue, till she yielded quite.So poachers pick up tir'd game,While the fair hunter's cheated of his prey.Boy!Enter a Servant.Serv.Oh, the unhappiest tidings tongue e'er told!Pol.The matter?Serv.Oh! your father, my good master,As with his guests he sat in mirth rais'd high,And chas'd the goblet round the joyful board,A sudden trembling seiz'd on all his limbs;His eyes distorted grew, his visage pale,His speech forsook him, life itself seem'd fled,And all his friends are waiting now about him.Enter Acasto and Attendants.Acas.Support me, give me air, I'll yet recover.'Twas but a slip decaying nature made;For she grows weary near her journey's end.Where are my sons? come near, my Polydore!Your brother—where's Castalio?Serv.My lord,I've search'd, as you commanded, all the house!He and Monimia are not to be found.Acas.Not to be found? then where are all my friends?'Tis well—I hope they'll pardon an unhappy faultMy unmannerly infirmity has made!Death could not come in a more welcome hour;For I'm prepar'd to meet him; and, methinks,Would live and die with all my friends about me.Enter Castalio.Cas.Angels preserve my dearest father's life!Oh! may he live till time itself decay,Till good men wish him dead, or I offend him!Acas.Thank you, Castalio: give me both your hands.So now, methinks,I appear as great as Hercules himself,Supported by the pillars he has rais'd.Enter Serina.Ser.My father!Acas.My heart's darling!Ser.Let my kneesFix to the earth. Ne'er let my eyes have rest,But wake and weep, till heaven restore my father.Acas.Rise to my arms, and thy kind pray'rs are answer'd.For thou'rt a wondrous extract of all goodness;Born for my joy, and no pain's felt when near thee.Chamont!Enter Chamont.Cham.My lord, may't prove not an unlucky omen!Many I see are waiting round about you,And I am come to ask a blessing too.Acas.May'st thou be happy!Cham.Where?Acas.In all thy wishes.Cham.Confirm me so, and make this fair one mine:I am unpractis'd in the trade of courtship,And know not how to deal love out with art:Onsets in love seem best like those in war,Fierce, resolute, and done with all the force;So I would open my whole heart at once,And pour out the abundance of my soul.Acas.What says Serina? canst thou love a soldier?One born to honour, and to honour bred?One that has learn'd to treat e'en foes with kindness,To wrong no good man's fame, nor praise himself?Ser.Oh! name not love, for that's ally'd to joy;And joy must be a stranger to my heart,When you're in danger. May Chamont's good fortuneRender him lovely to some happier maid!Whilst I, at friendly distance, see him blest,Praise the kind gods, and wonder at his virtues.Acas.Chamont, pursue her, conquer, and possess her,And, as my son, a third of all my fortuneShall be thy lot.Chamont, you told me of some doubts that press'd you:Are you yet satisfy'd that I'm your friend?Cham.My lord, I would not lose that satisfaction,For any blessing I could wish for:As to my fears, already I have lost them:They ne'er shall vex me more, nor trouble you.Acas.I thank you.My friends, 'tis late:Now my disorder seems all past and over,And I, methinks, begin to feel new health.Cas.Would you but rest, it might restore you quite.Acas.Yes, I'll to bed; old men must humour weakness.Good night, my friends! Heaven guard you all! Good night!To-morrow early we'll salute the day,Find out new pleasures, and renew lost time.[exeunt all but Chamont and Chaplain.Cham.If you're at leisure, sir, we'll waste an hour:'Tis yet too soon to sleep, and t'will be charityTo lend your conversation to a stranger.Chap.Sir, you're a soldier?Cham.Yes.Chap.I love a soldier;And had been one myself, but that my parentsWould make me what you see me.Cham.Have you had long dependance on this family?Chap.I have not thought it so, because my time'sSpent pleasantly. My lord's not haughty nor imperious,Nor I gravely whimsical; he has good nature.His sons too are civil to me, becauseI do not pretend to be wiser than they are;I meddle with no man's business but my own,So meet with respect, and am not the jest of the family.Cham.I'm glad you are so happy.A pleasant fellow this, and may be useful.[aside.Knew you my father, the old Chamont?Chap.I did; and was most sorry when we lost him.Cham.Why, didst thou love him?Chap.Ev'ry body lov'd him; besides, he was my patron's friend.Cham.I could embrace thee for that very notion:If thou didst love my father, I could thinkThou wouldst not be an enemy to me.Chap.I can be no man's foe.Cham.Then pr'ythee, tell me;Think'st thou the lord Castalio loves my sister?Chap.Love your sister?Cham.Ay, love her.Chap.Either he loves her, or he much has wrong'd her.Cham.How wrong'd her? have a care; for this may layA scene of mischief to undo us all.But tell me, wrong'd her, saidst thou?Chap.Ay, sir, wrong'd her.Cham.This is a secret worth a monarch's fortune:What shall I give thee for't? thou dear physicianOf sickly wounds, unfold this riddle to me,And comfort mine——Chap.I would hide nothing from you willingly.Cham.By the reverenc'd soulOf that great honest man that gave me being,Tell me but what thou know'st concerns my honour,And, if I e'er reveal it to thy wrong,May this good sword ne'er do me right in battle!May I ne'er know that blessed peace of mind,That dwells in good and pious men like thee!Chap.I see your temper's mov'd and I will trust you.Cham.Wilt thou?Chap.I will; but if it ever 'scape you——Cham.It never shall.Chap.Then, this good day, when all the house was busy,When mirth and kind rejoicing fill'd each room,As I was walking in the grove I met them.Cham.What, met them in the grove together?Chap.I, by their own appointment, met them there,Receiv'd their marriage vows, and join'd their hands.Cham.How! married?Chap.Yes, sir.Cham.Then my soul's at peace:But why would you so long delay to give it?Chap.Not knowing what reception it may findWith old Acasto; may be, I was too cautiousTo trust the secret from me.Cham.What's the causeI cannot guess, though 'tis my sister's honour,I do not like this marriage,Huddled i'the dark, and done at too much venture;The business looks with an unlucky face.Keep still the secret: for it ne'er shall 'scape me,Not e'en to them, the new-match'd pair. Farewel!Believe the truth, and know me for thy friend.[exeunt.Re-enter Castalio, with Monimia.Cas.Young Chamont and the chaplain! sure 'tis they!No matter what's contriv'd, or who consulted,Since my Monimia's mine; though this sad lookSeems no good boding omen to our bliss;Else, pr'ythee, tell me why that look cast down,Why that sad sigh, as if thy heart was breaking?Mon.Castalio, I am thinking what we've done;The heavenly powers were sure displeas'd to-day;For, at the ceremony as we stood,And as your hand was kindly join'd with mine,As the good priest pronounc'd the sacred words,Passion grew big, and I could not forbear:Tears drown'd my eyes, and trembling seiz'd my soul.What should that mean?Cas.O, thou art tender all!Gentle and kind as sympathising nature!Re-enter Polydore, unobserved.But wherefore do I dally with my bliss?The night's far spent, and day draws on apace;To bed, my love, and wake till I come thither.Mon.'Twill be impossible:You know your father's chamber's next to mine,And the least noise will certainly alarm him.Cas.No more, my blessing.What shall be the sign?When shall I come? for to my joys I'll steal,As if I ne'er had paid my freedom for them.Mon.Just three soft strokes upon the chamber door,And at that signal you shall gain admittance:But speak not the least word; for, if you should,'Tis surely heard, and all will be betray'd.Cas.Oh! doubt it not, Monimia; our joysShall be as silent as the ecstatic blissOf souls, that by intelligence converse.Away, my love! first take this kiss. Now, haste:I long for that to come, yet grudge each minute past.My brother wand'ring too so late this way![exit Mon.Pol.Castalio!Cas.My Polydore, how dost thou?How does our father? is he well recover'd?Pol.I left him happily repos'd to rest:He's still as gay as if his life was young.But how does fair Monimia?Cas.Doubtless, well:A cruel beauty, with her conquest pleas'd,Is always joyful, and her mind in health.Pol.Is she the same Monimia still she was?May we not hope she's made of mortal mould?Cas.She's not woman else:Though I'm grown weary of this tedious hoping;We've in a barren desart stray'd too long.Pol.Yet may relief be unexpected found,And love's sweet manna cover all the field.Met ye to-day?Cas.No; she has still avoided me;I wish I'd never meddled with the matter,And would enjoin thee, Polydore——Pol.To what?Cas.To leave this peevish beauty to herself.Pol.What, quit my love? as soon I'd quit my postIn fight, and like a coward run away.No, by my stars, I'll chase her till she yieldsTo me, or meets her rescue in another.Cas.But I have wond'rous reasons on my side,That would persuade thee, were they known.Pol.Then speak 'em:What are they? Came ye to her window hereTo learn 'em now? Castalio, have a care;Use honest dealing with a friend and brother.Believe me, I'm not with my love so blinded,But can discern your purpose to abuse me.Quit your pretences to her.You say you've reasons: why are they conceal'd?Cas.To-morrow I may tell you.Pol.Why not now?Cas.It is a matter of such consequence,As I must well consult ere I reveal.But pr'ythee cease to think I would abuse thee,Till more be known.Pol.When you, Castalio, ceaseTo meet Monimia unknown to me,And then deny it slavishly, I'll ceaseTo think Castalio faithless to his friend.Did I not see you part this very moment?Cas.It seems you've watch'd me, then?Pol.I scorn the office.Cas.Pr'ythee avoid a thing thou may'st repent.Pol.That is, henceforward making league with you.Cas.Nay, if ye're angry, Polydore, good night.[exit.Pol.Good night, Castalio, if ye're in such haste.He little thinks I've overheard th' appointment:But to his chamber's gone to wait awhile,Then come and take possession of my love.This is the utmost point of all my hopes;Or now she must, or never can, be mine.Oh, for a means now how to counterplot,And disappoint this happy elder brotherIn every thing we do or undertake,He soars above me, mount what height I can,And keeps the start he got of me in birth.Cordelio!Re-enter Page.Page.My lord!Pol.Come hither, boy!Thou hast a pretty, forward, lying face,And may'st in time expect preferment. Canst thouPretend to secresy, cajole and flatterThy master's follies, and assist his pleasures?Page.My lord, I could do any thing for you,And ever be a very faithful boy.Command, whate'er's your pleasure I'll observe;Be it to run, or watch, or to conveyA letter to a beauteous lady's bosom:At least, I am not dull, and soon should learn.Pol.'Tis pity then thou shouldst not be employ'd.Go to my brother, he's in his chamber now,Undressing, and preparing for his rest;Find out some means to keep him up awhile:Tell him a pretty story, that may pleaseHis ear; invent a tale, no matter what:If he should ask of me, tell him I'm goneTo bed, and sent you there to know his pleasure,Whether he'll hunt to-morrow.But do not leave him till he's in his bed;Or, if he chance to walk again this way,Follow, and do not quit him, but seem fondTo do him little offices of service.Perhaps at last it may offend him; thenRetire, and wait till I come in. Away!Succeed in this, and be employ'd again.Page.Doubt not, my lord: he has been always kindTo me; would often set me on his knee,Then give me sweetmeats, call me pretty boy,And ask me what the maids talk'd of at nights.Pol.Run quickly then, and prosp'rous be thy wishes.Here I'm alone, and fit for mischief.[exit Page.I heard the sign she order'd him to give."Just three soft strokes against the chamber door;But speak not the least word, for, if you should,It's surely heard, and we are both betray'd."Blest heav'ns, assist me but in this dear hour,And, my kind stars, be but propitious now,Dispose of me hereafter as you please.Monimia! Monimia![gives the sign.Flo.[At the window.] Who's there?Pol.'Tis I.Flo.My lord Castalio?Pol.The same.How does my love, my dear Monimia?Flo.Oh!She wonders much at your unkind delay;You've staid so long, that at each little noiseThe wind but makes, she asks if you are coming.Pol.Tell her I'm here, and let the door be open'd.[Florella withdraws.Now boast, Castalio, triumph now, and tellThyself strange stories of a promis'd bliss![exit.Re-enter Castalio and Page.Page.Indeed, my lord, 'twill be a lovely morning:Pray, let us hunt.Cas.Go, you're an idle prattler:I'll stay at home to-morrow; if your lordThinks fit, he may command my hounds. Go, leave me:I must to bed.Page.I'll wait upon your lordship,If you think fit, and sing you to repose.Cas.No, my kind boy.Good night: commend me to my brother.Page.Oh!You never heard the last new song I learn'd;It is the finest, prettiest, song indeed,Of my lord and my lady, you know who, that were caughtTogether, you know where. My lord, indeed it is.Cas.You must be whipp'd, youngster,if you get such songs as those are.What means this boy's impertinence to-night?[aside.Page.Why, what must I sing, pray, my dear lord?Cas.Psalms, child, psalms.Page.O dear me! boys that go to school learn psalms;But pages, that are better bred, sing lampoons.Cas.Well, leave me; I'm weary.Page.Indeed, my lord, I can't abide to leave you.Cas.Why, wert thou instructed to attend me?Page.No, no, indeed, my lord, I was not.But I know what I know.Cas.What dost thou know?——'Sdeath! what can all this mean?[aside.Page.Oh! I know who loves somebody.Cas.What's that to me, boy?Page.Nay, I know who loves you too.Cas.That's a wonder! pr'ythee, tell it me.Page.'Tis—'tis—I know who—but willYou give me the horse, then?Cas.I will, my child.Page.It is my lady Monimia, look you; but don't you tell her Itold you: she'll give me no more playthings then. I heard her sayso, as she lay abed, man.Cas.Talk'd she of me when in her bed, Cordelio?Page.Yes; and I sung her the song you made too; and she didso sigh, and look with her eyes!Cas.Hark! what's that noise?Take this; be gone, and leave me.You knave, you little flatterer, get you gone.[ex. Page.Surely it was a noise, hist!——only fancy;For all is hush'd, as nature were retir'd.'Tis now, that, guided by my love, I goTo take possession of Monimia's arms.Sure Polydore's by this time gone to bed.[knocks.She hears me not? sure, she already sleeps!Her wishes could not brook so long delay,And her poor heart has beat itself to rest.[knocks.Once more——Flo.[at the window] Who's there,That comes thus rudely to disturb our rest?Cas.'Tis I.Flo.Who are you? what's your name?Cas.Suppose the lord Castalio.Flo.I know you not.The lord Castalio has no business here.Cas.Ha! have a care! what can this mean?Whoe'er thou art, I charge thee, to Monimia fly:Tell her I'm here, and wait upon my doom.Flo.Whoe'er you are, you may repent this outrage:My lady must not be disturb'd. Good night!Cas.She must! tell her, she shall; go, I'm in haste,And bring her tidings from the state of love.Flo.Sure the man's mad!Cas.Or this will make me so.Obey me, or, by all the wrongs I suffer,I'll scale the window and come in by force,Let the sad consequence be what it will!This creature's trifling folly makes me mad!Flo.My lady's answer is, you may depart.She says she knows you: you are Polydore,Sent by Castalio, as you were to-day,T'affront and do her violence again.Cas.I'll not believe't.Flo.You may, sir.Cas.Curses blast thee!Flo.Well, 'tis a fine cool ev'ning! and I hopeMay cure the raging fever in your blood!Good night.Cas.And farewell all that's just in woman!This is contriv'd, a study'd trick, to abuseMy easy nature, and torment my mind!'Tis impudence to think my soul will bear it!Let but to-morrow, but to-morrow, come,And try if all thy arts appease my wrong;Till when, be this detested place my bed;[lies down.Where I will ruminate on woman's ills,Laugh at myself, and curse th' inconstant sex.Faithless Monimia! O Monimia!Enter Ernesto.Ern.EitherMy sense has been deluded, or this wayI heard the sound of sorrow; 'tis late night,And none, whose mind's at peace, would wander now.Cas.Who's there?Ern.Castalio!—My lord, why in this posture,Stretch'd on the ground? your honest, true, old servant,Your poor Ernesto, cannot see you thus.Rise, I beseech you.Cas.Oh, leave me to my folly.Ern.I can't leave you,And not the reason know of your disorders.Remember how, when young, I in my armsHave often borne you, pleas'd you in your pleasures,And sought an early share in your affection.Do not discard me now, but let me serve you.Cas.Thou canst not serve me.Ern.Why?Cas.Because my thoughtsAre full of woman; thou, poor wretch, art past them.Ern.I hate the sex.Cas.Then I'm thy friend, Ernesto![rises.I'd leave the world for him that hates a woman!Woman, the fountain of all human frailty!What mighty ills have not been done by woman?Who was't betray'd the capitol?—a woman!Who lost Mark Antony the world?—a woman!Who was the cause of a long ten years' war,And laid at last old Troy in ashes?—Woman!Destructive, damnable, deceitful woman!Woman, to man first as a blessing given;When innocence and love were in their prime.Happy awhile in Paradise they lay;But quickly woman long'd to go astray:Some foolish new adventure needs must prove,And the first devil she saw, she chang'd her love:To his temptations lewdly she inclin'dHer soul, and for an apple damn'd mankind.[exeunt.
Enter Castalio.Cas.Wish'd morning's come! And now upon the plains,And distant mountains, where they feed their flocks,The happy shepherds leave their homely huts,And with their pipes proclaim the new-born day.There's no condition sure so curs'd as mine——Monimia! O Monimia!Enter Monimia and Florella.Mon.I come!I fly to my ador'd Castalio's arms,My wishes' lord. May every morn beginLike this; and, with our days, our loves renew!Cas.Oh——Mon.Art thou not well, Castalio? Come, leanUpon my breast, and tell me where's thy pain.Cas.'Tis here—'tis in my head—'tis in my heart—'Tis every where: it rages like a madness,And I most wonder how my reason holds.No more, Monimia, of your sex's arts:They're useless all—I'm not that pliant tool;I know my charter better——I am man,Obstinate man, and will not be enslav'd!Mon.You shall not fear't; indeed, my nature's easy:I'llever live your most obedient wife!Nor ever any privilege pretendBeyond your will; for that shall be my law;—Indeed, I will not.Cas.Nay, you shall not, madam;By yon bright heaven, you shall not: all the dayI'll play the tyrant, and at night forsake thee;Nay, if I've any too, thou shalt be madeSubservient to my looser pleasures;For thou hast wrong'd Castalio.Mon.Oh, kill me here, or tell me my offence!I'll never quit you else; but, on these knees,Thus follow you all day, till they're worn bare,And hang upon you like a drowning creature.Castalio!——Cas.Away!——Last night! last night!——Mon.It was our wedding night.Cas.No more!—Forget it!Mon.Why! do you then repent?Cas.I do.Mon.O heaven!And will you leave me thus?—Help! help! Florella![Castalio drags her to the door, breaks from her, and exit.Help me to hold this yet lov'd, cruel man!Castalio!—Oh! how often has he sworn,Nature should change—the sun and stars grow dark,Ere he would falsify his vows to me!Make haste, confusion, then! Sun, lose thy light!And, stars, drop dead with sorrow to the earth,For my Castalio's false!False as the wind, the waters, or the weather!Cruel as tigers o'er their trembling prey!I feel him in my breast; he tears my heart,And at each sigh he drinks the gushing blood!Must I be long in pain?Enter Chamont.Cham.In tears, Monimia!Mon.Whoe'er thou art,Leave me alone to my belov'd despair!Cham.Lift up thy eyes, and see who comes to cheer thee!Tell me the story of thy wrongs, and thenSee if my soul has rest, till thou hast justice.Mon.My brother!Cham.Yes, Monimia, if thou think'stThat I deserve the name, I am thy brother.Mon.O Castalio!Cham.Ha!Name me that name again! my soul's on fireTill I know all!—There's meaning in that name:—I know he is thy husband; therefore, trust meWith the following truth.Mon.Indeed, Chamont,There's nothing in it but the fault of nature:I'm often thus seiz'd suddenly with grief,I know not why.Cham.You use me ill, Monimia;And I might think, with justice, most severelyOf this unfaithful dealing with your brother.Mon.Truly I'm not to blame. Suppose I'm fond,And grieve for what as much may please another?Should I upbraid the dearest friend on earthFor the first fault? You would not do so, would you?Cham.Not if I'd cause to think it was a friend.Mon.Why do you then call this unfaithful dealing?I ne'er conceal'd my soul from you before:Bear with me now, and search my wounds no further;For every probing pains me to the heart.Cham.'Tis sign there's danger in't, and must be prob'd.Where's your new husband? Still that thought disturbs you—What! only answer me with tears?—Castalio!Nay, now they stream:—Cruel, unkind, Castalio!—Is't not so?Mon.I cannot speak;—grief flows so fast upon me,It chokes, and will not let me tell the cause.Oh!——Cham.My Monimia! to my soul thou'rt dearAs honour to my name!Why wilt thou not repose within my breastThe anguish that torments thee?Mon.Oh! I dare not.Cham.I have no friend but thee. We must confideIn one another.—Two unhappy orphans,Alas! we are! and when I see thee grieve,Methinks it is a part of me that suffers.Mon.Could you be secret?Cham.Secret as the grave.Mon.But when I've told you, will you keep your furyWithin its bounds? Will you not do some rashAnd horrid mischief? For, indeed, Chamont,You would not think how hardly I've been us'dFrom a dear friend—from one that has my soulA slave, and therefore treats it like a tyrant.Cham.I will be calm.—But has Castalio wrong'd thee?Has he already wasted all his love?What has he done?—quickly! for I'm all tremblingWith expectation of a horrid tale!Mon.Oh! could you think it?Cham.What?Mon.I fear, he'll kill me!Cham.Ha!Mon.Indeed, I do: he's strangely cruel to me;Which, if it last, I'm sure must break my heart.Cham.What has he done?Mon.Most barbarously us'd me.Just as we met, and I, with open arms,Ran to embrace the lord of all my wishes,Oh then——Cham.Go on!Mon.He threw me from his breast,Like a detested sin.Cham.How!Mon.As I hung tooUpon his knees, and begg'd to know the cause,He dragg'd me, like a slave, upon the earth,And had no pity on my cries.Cham.How! did heDash thee disdainfully away, with scorn?Mon.He did.Cham.What! throw thee from him?Mon.Yes, indeed, he did!Cham.So may this armThrow him to th' earth, like a dead dog despis'd.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 conceal'd?Alas, I love him still; and though I ne'erClasp him again within these longing arms,Yet bless him, bless him, gods, where'er he goes!Enter Acasto.Acas.Sure some ill fate is tow'rds me; in my houseI only meet with oddness and disorder.Just this very momentI met Castalio too——Cham.Then you met a villain.Acas.Ha!Cham.Yes, a villain!Acas.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.Cham.Curse on thy scandalous age,Which hinders me to rush upon thy throat,And tear the root up of that cursed bramble!Acas.Ungrateful ruffian! sure my good old friendWas ne'er thy father! Nothing of him's in thee!What have I done, in my unhappy age,To be thus us'd? I scorn to upbraid thee, boy!But I could put thee in remembrance——Cham.Do.Acas.I scorn it.Cham.No, I'll calmly hear the story;For I would fain know all, to see which scaleWeighs most.——Ha! is not that good old Acasto?What have I done?—Can you forgive this folly?Acas.Why dost thou ask it?Cham.'Twas the rude o'erflowingOf too much passion—Pray, my lord, forgive me.[kneels.Acas.Mock me not, youth! I can revenge a wrong.Cham.I know it well—but for this thought of mine,Pity a madman's frenzy, and forget it.Acas.I will; but henceforth pr'ythee be more kind.Whence came the cause?[raises him.Cham.Indeed, I've been to blame;For you've been my father—You've been her father too.[takes Monimia's hand.Acas.Forbear the prologue,And let me know the substance of thy tale.Cham.You took her up, a little tender flower,Just sprouted on a bank, which the next frostHad nipp'd; and with a careful, loving hand,Transplanted her into your own fair garden,Where the sun always shines: there long she flourish'd;Grew sweet to sense, and lovely to the eye;Till at the last a cruel spoiler came,Cropp'd this fair rose, and rifled all its sweetness,Then cast it like a loathsome weed away.Acas.You talk to me in parables, Chamont:You may have known that I'm no wordy man.Fine speeches are the instruments of knaves,Or fools, that use them when they want good sense.But honestyNeeds no disguise or ornament. Be plain.Cham.Your son——Acas.I've two; and both, I hope, have honour.Cham.I hope so too; but——Acas.Speak.Cham.I must inform you,Once more, Castalio——Acas.Still Castalio!Cham.Yes;Your son Castalio has wrong'd Monimia!Acas.Ha! wrong'd her?Cham.Marry'd her.Acas.I'm sorry for't.Cham.Why sorry?By yon blest heaven, there's not a lordBut might be proud to take her to his heart.Acas.I'll not deny't.Cham.You dare not; by the gods,You dare not. All your family combin'dIn one damn'd falsehood, to outdo Castalio,Dare not deny't.Acas.How has Castalio wrong'd her?Cham.Ask that of him. I say, my sister's wrong'd:Monimia, my sister, born as highAnd noble as Castalio.—Do her justice,Or, by the gods, I'll lay a scene of bloodShall make this dwelling horrible to nature.I'll do't.—Hark you, my lord, your son Castalio,Take him to your closet, and there teach him manners.Acas.You shall have justice.Cham.Nay, I will have justice!Who'll sleep in safety that has done me wrong?My lord, I'll not disturb you to repeatThe cause of this; I beg you (to preserveYour house's honour) ask it of Castalio.[exit.Acas.Farewell, proud boy.—Monimia!Mon.My lord.Acas.You are my daughter.Mon.I am, my lord, if you'll vouchsafe to own me.Acas.When you'll complain to me, I'll prove a father.[exit.Mon.Now I'm undone for ever! Who on earthIs there so wretched as Monimia?First by Castalio cruelly forsaken;I've lost Acasto now: his parting frownsMay well instruct me, rage is in his heart.I shall be next abandon'd to my fortune,Thrust out, a naked wand'rer to the world,And branded for the mischievous Monimia!What will become of me? My cruel brotherIs 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.[sits down.Enter Polydore.Pol.Monimia weeping!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 causeNone 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 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 heardHis oaths, your vows, and to my torment sawYour wild embraces; heard the appointment made;I did, Monimia, and I curs'd the sound.Wilt thou be sworn, my love? wilt thou be ne'erUnkind again?Mon.Banish such fruitless hopes!Have you sworn constancy to my undoing?Will you be ne'er my friend again?Pol.What means my love?Mon.What meant my lord?Last night?Pol.Is that a question now to be demanded?Mon.Was it well doneT' assault my lodging at the dead of night,And threaten me if I deny'd admittance——You said you were Castalio.Pol.By those eyes,It was the same: I spent my time much better.Mon.Ha!—have a care!Pol.Where is the danger near me?Mon.I fear you're on a rock will wreck your 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'd trust thee with my life; on that soft bosomBreathe out the choicest secrets of my heart,Till I had nothing in it left but love.Mon.Nay, I'll conjure you, by the gods and angels,By the honour of your name, that's most concern'd,To tell me, Polydore, and tell me truly,Where did you rest last night?Pol.Within thy arms.Mon.'Tis done.[faints.Pol.She faints!—no help!—who waits?—A curseUpon my vanity, that could not keepThe secret of my happiness in silence!Confusion! we shall be surpris'd anon;And consequently all must be betrayed.Monimia!—she breathes!—Monimia!Mon.Well——Let mischiefs multiply! let every hourOf my loath'd life yield me increase of horror!O let the sun, to these unhappy eyes,Ne'er shine again, but be eclips'd for ever!May every thing I look on seem a prodigy,To fill my soul with terrors, till I quiteForget I ever had humanity,And grow a curser of the works of nature!Pol.What means all this?Mon.O Polydore! if allThe friendship e'er you vow'd to good CastalioBe not a falsehood; if you ever lov'dYour 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'm his wife!Pol.What says Monimia?Mon.I am Castalio's wife!Pol.His marry'd, wedded, wife?Mon.Yesterday's sunSaw it perform'd!Pol.My brother's wife?Mon.As surely as we bothMust taste of misery, that guilt is thine.Pol.Oh! thou may'st yet be happy!Mon.Couldst thou beHappy, with such a weight upon thy soul?Pol.It may be yet a secret—I'll go tryTo reconcile and bring Castalio to thee!Whilst from the world I take myself away,And waste my life in penance for my sin.Mon.Then thou wouldst more undo me: heap a loadOf added sin upon my wretched head!Wouldst thou again have me betray thy brother,And bring pollution to his arms?—Curs'd thought!Oh! when shall I be mad indeed![exit.Pol.Then thus I'll go;—Full of my guilt, distracted where to roam:I'll find some place where adders nest in winter,Loathsome and venomous; where poisons hangLike gums against the walls: there I'll inhabit,And live up to the height of desperation.Desire shall languish like a with'ring flower,Horrors shall fright me from those pleasing harms,And I'll no more be caught with beauty's charms.[exit.