Mon.So soon returned from hunting? this fair daySeems as if sent to invite the world abroad.Passed not Castalio and Polydore this way?Page.Madam, just now.Mon.Sure some ill fate's upon me;Distrust and heaviness sit round my heart,And apprehension shocks my timorous soul.Why was I not laid in my peaceful graveWith my poor parents, and at rest as they are?Instead of that, I'm wandering into cares.Castalio! O Castalio! thou hast caughtMy foolish heart; and, like a tender child,That trusts his plaything to another hand,I fear its harm, and fain would have it back.Come near, Cordelio. I must chide you, sir.Page.Why, madam, have I done you any wrong?Mon.I never see you now; you have been kinder;Sat by my bed, and sung me pretty songs:Perhaps I've been ungrateful: here's money for you:Will you oblige me? shall I see you oftener?Page.Madam, I'd serve you with my soul;But in a morning when you call me to you,As by your bed I stand and tell you stories,I am ashamed to see your swelling breasts,It makes me blush, they are so very white.Mon.O men, for flattery and deceit renowned!Thus when you're young ye learn it all like him,Till, as your years increase, that strengthens too,To undo poor maids, and make our ruin easy.Tell me, Cordelio, for thou oft hast heardTheir friendly converse and their bosom-secrets;Sometimes, at least, have they not talked of me?Page.O madam! very wickedly they've talked:But I'm afraid to name it; for they sayBoys must be whipped that tell their master's secrets.Mon.Fear not, Cordelio! it shall ne'er be known;For I'll preserve the secret as 'twere mine.Polydore cannot be so kind as I.I'll furnish thee for all thy harmless sportsWith pretty toys, and thou shalt be my page.Page.And truly, madam, I had rather be so.Methinks you love me better than my lord,For he was never half so kind as you are.What must I do?Mon.Inform me how thou'st heardCastalio, and his brother, use my name.Page.With all the tenderness of love.You were the subject of their last discourse:At first I thought it would have fatal proved;But, as the one grew hot, the other cooled,And yielded to the frailty of his friend;At last, after much struggling, 'twas resolved—Mon.What, good Cordelio?Page.Not to quarrel for you.Mon.I would not have them; by my dearest hopes,I would not be the argument of strife.But surely my Castalio won't forsake me,And make a mockery of my easy love?Went they together?Page.Yes, to seek you, madam.Castalio promised Polydore to bring himWhere he alone might meet you,And fairly try the fortune of his wishes.Mon.Am I then grown so cheap, just to be madeA common stake, a prize for love in jest?Was not Castalio very loth to yield it?Or was it Polydore's unruly passionThat heightened the debate?Page.The fault was Polydore's.Castalio played with love, and smiling showedThe pleasure, not the pangs of his desire.He said no woman's smiles should buy his freedom,And marriage is a mortifying thing.Mon.Then I am ruined! if Castalio's false,Where is there faith and honour to be found?Ye Gods, that guard the innocent and guideThe weak, protect and take me to your care!Oh, but I love him! there's the rock will wreck meWhy was I made with all my sex's softness,Yet want the cunning to conceal its follies?I'll see Castalio, tax him with his falsehoods,Be a true woman, rail, protest my wrongs;Resolve to hate him, and yet love him still.
Mon.So soon returned from hunting? this fair daySeems as if sent to invite the world abroad.Passed not Castalio and Polydore this way?
Page.Madam, just now.
Mon.Sure some ill fate's upon me;Distrust and heaviness sit round my heart,And apprehension shocks my timorous soul.Why was I not laid in my peaceful graveWith my poor parents, and at rest as they are?Instead of that, I'm wandering into cares.Castalio! O Castalio! thou hast caughtMy foolish heart; and, like a tender child,That trusts his plaything to another hand,I fear its harm, and fain would have it back.Come near, Cordelio. I must chide you, sir.
Page.Why, madam, have I done you any wrong?
Mon.I never see you now; you have been kinder;Sat by my bed, and sung me pretty songs:Perhaps I've been ungrateful: here's money for you:Will you oblige me? shall I see you oftener?
Page.Madam, I'd serve you with my soul;But in a morning when you call me to you,As by your bed I stand and tell you stories,I am ashamed to see your swelling breasts,It makes me blush, they are so very white.
Mon.O men, for flattery and deceit renowned!Thus when you're young ye learn it all like him,Till, as your years increase, that strengthens too,To undo poor maids, and make our ruin easy.Tell me, Cordelio, for thou oft hast heardTheir friendly converse and their bosom-secrets;Sometimes, at least, have they not talked of me?
Page.O madam! very wickedly they've talked:But I'm afraid to name it; for they sayBoys must be whipped that tell their master's secrets.
Mon.Fear not, Cordelio! it shall ne'er be known;For I'll preserve the secret as 'twere mine.Polydore cannot be so kind as I.I'll furnish thee for all thy harmless sportsWith pretty toys, and thou shalt be my page.
Page.And truly, madam, I had rather be so.Methinks you love me better than my lord,For he was never half so kind as you are.What must I do?
Mon.Inform me how thou'st heardCastalio, and his brother, use my name.
Page.With all the tenderness of love.You were the subject of their last discourse:At first I thought it would have fatal proved;But, as the one grew hot, the other cooled,And yielded to the frailty of his friend;At last, after much struggling, 'twas resolved—
Mon.What, good Cordelio?
Page.Not to quarrel for you.
Mon.I would not have them; by my dearest hopes,I would not be the argument of strife.But surely my Castalio won't forsake me,And make a mockery of my easy love?Went they together?
Page.Yes, to seek you, madam.Castalio promised Polydore to bring himWhere he alone might meet you,And fairly try the fortune of his wishes.
Mon.Am I then grown so cheap, just to be madeA common stake, a prize for love in jest?Was not Castalio very loth to yield it?Or was it Polydore's unruly passionThat heightened the debate?
Page.The fault was Polydore's.Castalio played with love, and smiling showedThe pleasure, not the pangs of his desire.He said no woman's smiles should buy his freedom,And marriage is a mortifying thing.
Mon.Then I am ruined! if Castalio's false,Where is there faith and honour to be found?Ye Gods, that guard the innocent and guideThe weak, protect and take me to your care!Oh, but I love him! there's the rock will wreck meWhy was I made with all my sex's softness,Yet want the cunning to conceal its follies?I'll see Castalio, tax him with his falsehoods,Be a true woman, rail, protest my wrongs;Resolve to hate him, and yet love him still.
Re-enterCastalioandPolydore.
He comes, the conqueror comes! lie still, my heart,And learn to bear thy injuries with scorn.Cast.Madam, my brother begs he may have leaveTo tell you something that concerns you nearly;I leave you, as becomes me, and withdraw.Mon.My Lord Castalio!Cast.Madam!Mon.Have you purposedTo abuse me palpably? what means this usage?Why am I left with Polydore alone?Cast.He best can tell you. Business of importanceCalls me away; I must attend my father.Mon.Will you then leave me thus?Cast.But for a moment.Mon.It has been otherwise; the time has been,When business might have stayed, and I been heard.Cast.I could for ever hear thee; but this timeMatters of such odd circumstances press me,That I must go.[Exit.Mon.Then go, and, if't be possible, for ever.—Well, my Lord Polydore, I guess your business,And read the ill-natured purpose in your eyes.Pol.If to desire you more than misers wealth,Or dying men an hour of added life;If softest wishes, and a heart more trueThan ever suffered yet for love disdained,Speak an ill-nature, you accuse me justly.Mon. Talk not of love, my lord; I must not hear it.Pol.Who can behold such beauty and be silent?Desire first taught us words: man, when created,At first alone, long wandered up and down,Forlorn, and silent as his vassal-beasts;But when a Heaven-born maid, like you, appeared,Strange pleasures filled his eyes, and fired his heart,Unloosed his tongue, and his first talk was love.Mon.The first-created pair, indeed, were blest;They were the only objects of each other,Therefore he courted her, and her alone;But in this peopled world of beauty, whereThere's roving room, where you may court, and ruinA thousand more, why need you talk to me?Pol.Oh! I could talk to thee for ever; thusEternally admiring, fix and gazeOn those dear eyes; for every glance they sendDarts through my soul, and almost gives enjoyment.Mon.How can you labour thus for my undoing?I must confess, indeed, I owe you moreThan ever I can hope or think to pay.There always was a friendship 'twixt our families;And therefore when my tender parents died,Whose ruined fortunes too expired with them,Your father's pity and his bounty took me,A poor and helpless orphan, to his care.Pol.'Twas Heaven ordained it so, to make me happy.Hence with this peevish virtue! 'tis a cheat;And those who taught it first were hypocrites.Come, these soft tender limbs were made for yielding!Mon.Here on my knees, by Heaven's blest power I swear,[Kneels.If you persist, I ne'er henceforth will see you,But rather wander through the world a beggar,And live on sordid scraps at proud men's doors;For, though to fortune lost, I still inheritMy mother's virtues, and my father's honour.Pol.Intolerable vanity! your sexWas never in the right; you're always false,Or silly; even your dresses are not moreFantastic than your appetites; you thinkOf nothing twice; opinion you have none:To-day you're nice, to-morrow not so free;Now smile, then frown; now sorrowful, then glad;Now pleased, now not; and all you know not why!Virtue you affect, inconstancy's your practice;And, when your loose desires once get dominion,No hungry churl feeds coarser at a feast;Every rank fool goes down—Mon.Indeed, my lord,I own my sex's follies; I've them all,And, to avoid its faults, must fly from you.Therefore, believe me, could you raise me highAs most fantastic woman's wish could reach,And lay all nature's riches at my feet,I'd rather run a savage in the woodsAmongst brute beasts, grow wrinkled and deformedAs wildness and most rude neglect could make me,So I might still enjoy my honour safeFrom the destroying wiles of faithless men.[Exit.Pol.Who'd be that sordid foolish thing called man,To cringe thus, fawn, and flatter for a pleasure,Which beasts enjoy so very much above him?The lusty bull ranges through all the field,And, from the herd singling his female out,Enjoys her, and abandons her at will.It shall be so; I'll yet possess my love,Wait on, and watch her loose unguarded hours;Then, when her roving thoughts have been abroad,And brought in wanton wishes to her heart,In the very minute when her virtue nods,I'll rush upon her in a storm of love,Beat down her guard of honour all before me,Surfeit on joys, till even desire grow sick;Then by long absence liberty regain,And quite forget the pleasure and the pain.[Exeunt.
He comes, the conqueror comes! lie still, my heart,And learn to bear thy injuries with scorn.
Cast.Madam, my brother begs he may have leaveTo tell you something that concerns you nearly;I leave you, as becomes me, and withdraw.
Mon.My Lord Castalio!
Cast.Madam!
Mon.Have you purposedTo abuse me palpably? what means this usage?Why am I left with Polydore alone?
Cast.He best can tell you. Business of importanceCalls me away; I must attend my father.
Mon.Will you then leave me thus?
Cast.But for a moment.
Mon.It has been otherwise; the time has been,When business might have stayed, and I been heard.
Cast.I could for ever hear thee; but this timeMatters of such odd circumstances press me,That I must go.[Exit.
Mon.Then go, and, if't be possible, for ever.—Well, my Lord Polydore, I guess your business,And read the ill-natured purpose in your eyes.
Pol.If to desire you more than misers wealth,Or dying men an hour of added life;If softest wishes, and a heart more trueThan ever suffered yet for love disdained,Speak an ill-nature, you accuse me justly.
Mon. Talk not of love, my lord; I must not hear it.
Pol.Who can behold such beauty and be silent?Desire first taught us words: man, when created,At first alone, long wandered up and down,Forlorn, and silent as his vassal-beasts;But when a Heaven-born maid, like you, appeared,Strange pleasures filled his eyes, and fired his heart,Unloosed his tongue, and his first talk was love.
Mon.The first-created pair, indeed, were blest;They were the only objects of each other,Therefore he courted her, and her alone;But in this peopled world of beauty, whereThere's roving room, where you may court, and ruinA thousand more, why need you talk to me?
Pol.Oh! I could talk to thee for ever; thusEternally admiring, fix and gazeOn those dear eyes; for every glance they sendDarts through my soul, and almost gives enjoyment.
Mon.How can you labour thus for my undoing?I must confess, indeed, I owe you moreThan ever I can hope or think to pay.There always was a friendship 'twixt our families;And therefore when my tender parents died,Whose ruined fortunes too expired with them,Your father's pity and his bounty took me,A poor and helpless orphan, to his care.
Pol.'Twas Heaven ordained it so, to make me happy.Hence with this peevish virtue! 'tis a cheat;And those who taught it first were hypocrites.Come, these soft tender limbs were made for yielding!
Mon.Here on my knees, by Heaven's blest power I swear,[Kneels.If you persist, I ne'er henceforth will see you,But rather wander through the world a beggar,And live on sordid scraps at proud men's doors;For, though to fortune lost, I still inheritMy mother's virtues, and my father's honour.
Pol.Intolerable vanity! your sexWas never in the right; you're always false,Or silly; even your dresses are not moreFantastic than your appetites; you thinkOf nothing twice; opinion you have none:To-day you're nice, to-morrow not so free;Now smile, then frown; now sorrowful, then glad;Now pleased, now not; and all you know not why!Virtue you affect, inconstancy's your practice;And, when your loose desires once get dominion,No hungry churl feeds coarser at a feast;Every rank fool goes down—
Mon.Indeed, my lord,I own my sex's follies; I've them all,And, to avoid its faults, must fly from you.Therefore, believe me, could you raise me highAs most fantastic woman's wish could reach,And lay all nature's riches at my feet,I'd rather run a savage in the woodsAmongst brute beasts, grow wrinkled and deformedAs wildness and most rude neglect could make me,So I might still enjoy my honour safeFrom the destroying wiles of faithless men.[Exit.
Pol.Who'd be that sordid foolish thing called man,To cringe thus, fawn, and flatter for a pleasure,Which beasts enjoy so very much above him?The lusty bull ranges through all the field,And, from the herd singling his female out,Enjoys her, and abandons her at will.It shall be so; I'll yet possess my love,Wait on, and watch her loose unguarded hours;Then, when her roving thoughts have been abroad,And brought in wanton wishes to her heart,In the very minute when her virtue nods,I'll rush upon her in a storm of love,Beat down her guard of honour all before me,Surfeit on joys, till even desire grow sick;Then by long absence liberty regain,And quite forget the pleasure and the pain.[Exeunt.
EnterAcasto,Castalio,Polydore,andAttendants.
Acast.To-day has been a day of glorious sport.When you, Castalio, and your brother left me,Forth from the thickets rushed another boar,So large, he seemed the tyrant of the woods,With all his dreadful bristles raised up high,They seemed a grove of spears upon his back;Foaming he came at me, where I was posted,Best to observe which way he'd lead the chase,Whetting his huge long tusks, and gaping wide,As if he already had me for his prey;Till, brandishing my well-poised javelin high,With this bold executing arm, I struckThe ugly brindled monster to the heart.Cast.The actions of your life were always wondrous.Acast.No flattery, boy! an honest man can't live by't:It is a little sneaking art, which knavesUse to cajole and soften fools withal;If thou hast flattery in thy nature, out with't,Or send it to a court; for there 'twill thrive.Pol.Why there?Acast.'Tis, next to money, current there;To be seen daily in as many formsAs there are sorts of vanities, and men:The supercilious[18]statesman has his sneerTo smooth a poor man off with, that can't bribe him;The grave dull fellow of small business soothesThe humourist, and will needs admire his wit.Who without spleen could see a hot-brained atheistThanking a surly doctor for his sermon?Or a grave counsellor meet a smooth young lord,Squeeze him by the hand, and praise his good complexion?Pol.Courts are the places where best manners flourish;Where the deserving ought to rise, and foolsMake show. Why should I vex and chafe my spleen,To see a gaudy coxcomb shine, when IHave seen enough to soothe him in his follies,And ride him to advantage as I please?Acast.Who merit ought indeed to rise i' the world;But no wise man that's honest should expect.What man of sense would rack his generous mind,To practise all the base formalitiesAnd forms of business, force a grave starched face,When he's a very libertine in's heart?Seem not to know this or that man in public,When privately perhaps they meet together,And lay the scene of some brave fellow's ruin?Such things are done—Cast.Your lordship's wrongs have beenSo great, that you with justice may complain;But suffer us, whose younger minds ne'er feltFortune's deceits, to court her as she's fair.Were she a common mistress, kind to all,Her worth would cease, and half the world grow idle.Acast.Go to, you're fools, and know me not; I've learntLong since to bear revenge, or scorn my wrongs,According to the value of the doer.You both would fain be great, and to that endDesire to do things worthy your ambition:Go to the camp, preferment's noblest mart,Where honour ought to have the fairest play,You'll findCorruption, envy, discontent, and faction,Almost in every band: how many menHave spent their blood in their dear country's service,Yet now pine under want, while selfish slaves,That even would cut their throats whom now they fawn on,Like deadly locusts, eat the honey up,Which those industrious bees so hardly toiled for!Cast.These precepts suit not with my active mind:Methinks I would be busy.Pol.So would I.Not loiter out my life at home, and knowNo farther than one prospect gives me leave.Acast.Busy your minds then, study arts and men:Learn how to value merit though in rags,And scorn a proud ill-mannered knave in office.
Acast.To-day has been a day of glorious sport.When you, Castalio, and your brother left me,Forth from the thickets rushed another boar,So large, he seemed the tyrant of the woods,With all his dreadful bristles raised up high,They seemed a grove of spears upon his back;Foaming he came at me, where I was posted,Best to observe which way he'd lead the chase,Whetting his huge long tusks, and gaping wide,As if he already had me for his prey;Till, brandishing my well-poised javelin high,With this bold executing arm, I struckThe ugly brindled monster to the heart.
Cast.The actions of your life were always wondrous.
Acast.No flattery, boy! an honest man can't live by't:It is a little sneaking art, which knavesUse to cajole and soften fools withal;If thou hast flattery in thy nature, out with't,Or send it to a court; for there 'twill thrive.
Pol.Why there?
Acast.'Tis, next to money, current there;To be seen daily in as many formsAs there are sorts of vanities, and men:The supercilious[18]statesman has his sneerTo smooth a poor man off with, that can't bribe him;The grave dull fellow of small business soothesThe humourist, and will needs admire his wit.Who without spleen could see a hot-brained atheistThanking a surly doctor for his sermon?Or a grave counsellor meet a smooth young lord,Squeeze him by the hand, and praise his good complexion?
Pol.Courts are the places where best manners flourish;Where the deserving ought to rise, and foolsMake show. Why should I vex and chafe my spleen,To see a gaudy coxcomb shine, when IHave seen enough to soothe him in his follies,And ride him to advantage as I please?
Acast.Who merit ought indeed to rise i' the world;But no wise man that's honest should expect.What man of sense would rack his generous mind,To practise all the base formalitiesAnd forms of business, force a grave starched face,When he's a very libertine in's heart?Seem not to know this or that man in public,When privately perhaps they meet together,And lay the scene of some brave fellow's ruin?Such things are done—
Cast.Your lordship's wrongs have beenSo great, that you with justice may complain;But suffer us, whose younger minds ne'er feltFortune's deceits, to court her as she's fair.Were she a common mistress, kind to all,Her worth would cease, and half the world grow idle.
Acast.Go to, you're fools, and know me not; I've learntLong since to bear revenge, or scorn my wrongs,According to the value of the doer.You both would fain be great, and to that endDesire to do things worthy your ambition:Go to the camp, preferment's noblest mart,Where honour ought to have the fairest play,You'll findCorruption, envy, discontent, and faction,Almost in every band: how many menHave spent their blood in their dear country's service,Yet now pine under want, while selfish slaves,That even would cut their throats whom now they fawn on,Like deadly locusts, eat the honey up,Which those industrious bees so hardly toiled for!
Cast.These precepts suit not with my active mind:Methinks I would be busy.
Pol.So would I.Not loiter out my life at home, and knowNo farther than one prospect gives me leave.
Acast.Busy your minds then, study arts and men:Learn how to value merit though in rags,And scorn a proud ill-mannered knave in office.
EnterSerina,Monimia,andFlorella.
Ser.My lord, my father!Acast.Blessings on my child,My little cherub! what hast thou to ask me?Ser.I bring you, sir, most glad and welcome news:The young Chamont, whom you've so often wished for,Is just arrived and entering.Acast.By my soul,And all my honours, he's most dearly welcome;Let me receive him like his father's friend.
Ser.My lord, my father!
Acast.Blessings on my child,My little cherub! what hast thou to ask me?
Ser.I bring you, sir, most glad and welcome news:The young Chamont, whom you've so often wished for,Is just arrived and entering.
Acast.By my soul,And all my honours, he's most dearly welcome;Let me receive him like his father's friend.
EnterChamont.
Welcome, thou relict of the best-loved man!Welcome from all the turmoils, and the hazardsOf certain danger, and uncertain fortune!Welcome as happy tidings after fears!Cham.Words would but wrong the gratitude I owe you.Should I begin to speak, my soul's so fullThat I should talk of nothing else all day.Mon.My brother!Cham.Oh my sister! let me hold theeLong in my arms. I've not beheld thy faceThese many days; by night I've often seen theeIn gentle dreams, and satisfied my soulWith fancied joy, till morning cares awaked me.—Another sister! sure it must be so;Though, I remember well, I had but one:But I feel something in my heart that promptsAnd tells me she has claim and interest there.Acast.Young soldier, you've not only studied war;Courtship, I see, has been your practice too,And may not prove unwelcome to my daughter.Cham.Is she your daughter? then my heart told true!And I'm at least her brother by adoption;For you have made yourself to me a father,And by that patent I have leave to love her.Ser.Monimia, thou hast told me men are false,Will flatter, feign, and make an art of love:Is Chamont so? No, sure he's more than man,Something that's near divine, and truth dwells in him.Acast.Thus happy, who would envy pompous power,The luxury of courts, or wealth of cities?Let there be joy through all the house this day;In every room let plenty flow at large;It is the birth-day of my royal master.You have not visited the court, Chamont,Since your return?Cham.I have no business there;I have not slavish temperance enoughTo attend a favourite's heels, and watch his smiles;Bear an ill office done me to my face,And thank the lord that wronged me for his favour.Acast.This you could do.
Welcome, thou relict of the best-loved man!Welcome from all the turmoils, and the hazardsOf certain danger, and uncertain fortune!Welcome as happy tidings after fears!
Cham.Words would but wrong the gratitude I owe you.Should I begin to speak, my soul's so fullThat I should talk of nothing else all day.
Mon.My brother!
Cham.Oh my sister! let me hold theeLong in my arms. I've not beheld thy faceThese many days; by night I've often seen theeIn gentle dreams, and satisfied my soulWith fancied joy, till morning cares awaked me.—Another sister! sure it must be so;Though, I remember well, I had but one:But I feel something in my heart that promptsAnd tells me she has claim and interest there.
Acast.Young soldier, you've not only studied war;Courtship, I see, has been your practice too,And may not prove unwelcome to my daughter.
Cham.Is she your daughter? then my heart told true!And I'm at least her brother by adoption;For you have made yourself to me a father,And by that patent I have leave to love her.
Ser.Monimia, thou hast told me men are false,Will flatter, feign, and make an art of love:Is Chamont so? No, sure he's more than man,Something that's near divine, and truth dwells in him.
Acast.Thus happy, who would envy pompous power,The luxury of courts, or wealth of cities?Let there be joy through all the house this day;In every room let plenty flow at large;It is the birth-day of my royal master.You have not visited the court, Chamont,Since your return?
Cham.I have no business there;I have not slavish temperance enoughTo attend a favourite's heels, and watch his smiles;Bear an ill office done me to my face,And thank the lord that wronged me for his favour.
Acast.This you could do.
[ToCastalioandPolydore.
Cast.I'd serve my prince.Acast.Who'd serve him?Cast.I would, my lord.Pol.And I; both would.Acast.Away!He needs not any servants such as you.Serve him! he merits more than man can do:He is so good, praise cannot speak his worth;So merciful, sure he ne'er slept in wrath;So just, that were he but a private man,He could not do a wrong. How would you serve him?Cast.I'd serve him with my fortune here at home,And serve him with my person in his wars;Watch for him, fight for him, bleed for him.Pol.Die for him,As every true-born loyal subject ought.Acast.Let me embrace you both. Now, by the soulsOf my brave ancestors, I'm truly happy;For this be ever blest my marriage-day,Blest be your mother's memory that bore you,And doubly blest be that auspicious hourThat gave ye birth! Yes, my aspiring boys,Ye shall have business, when your master wants you:You cannot serve a nobler: I have served him;In this old body yet the marks remainOf many wounds. I've with this tongue proclaimedHis right, even in the face of rank rebellion;And when a foul-mouthed traitor once profanedHis sacred name, with my good sabre drawn,Even at the head of all his giddy rout,I rushed, and clove the rebel to the chine.
Cast.I'd serve my prince.
Acast.Who'd serve him?
Cast.I would, my lord.
Pol.And I; both would.
Acast.Away!He needs not any servants such as you.Serve him! he merits more than man can do:He is so good, praise cannot speak his worth;So merciful, sure he ne'er slept in wrath;So just, that were he but a private man,He could not do a wrong. How would you serve him?
Cast.I'd serve him with my fortune here at home,And serve him with my person in his wars;Watch for him, fight for him, bleed for him.
Pol.Die for him,As every true-born loyal subject ought.
Acast.Let me embrace you both. Now, by the soulsOf my brave ancestors, I'm truly happy;For this be ever blest my marriage-day,Blest be your mother's memory that bore you,And doubly blest be that auspicious hourThat gave ye birth! Yes, my aspiring boys,Ye shall have business, when your master wants you:You cannot serve a nobler: I have served him;In this old body yet the marks remainOf many wounds. I've with this tongue proclaimedHis right, even in the face of rank rebellion;And when a foul-mouthed traitor once profanedHis sacred name, with my good sabre drawn,Even at the head of all his giddy rout,I rushed, and clove the rebel to the chine.
EnterServant.
Ser.My lord, the expected guests are just arrived.Acast.Go you, and give them welcome and reception.
Ser.My lord, the expected guests are just arrived.
Acast.Go you, and give them welcome and reception.
[ExeuntCastalio,Polydore,Serina,Florella,andServant.
Cham.My lord, I stand in need of your assistanceIn something that concerns my peace and honour.Acast.Spoke like the son of that brave man I loved;So freely, friendly we conversed together.Whate'er it be, with confidence impart it;Thou shalt command my fortune and my sword.Cham.I dare not doubt your friendship nor your justice.Your bounty shown to what I hold most dear,My orphan sister, must not be forgotten.Acast.Pr'ythee, no more of that: it grates my nature.Cham.When our dear parents died, they died together,One fate surprised them, and one grave received them:My father with his dying breath bequeathedHer to my love: my mother, as she layLanguishing by him, called me to her side,Took me in her fainting arms, wept, and embraced me;Then pressed me close, and as she observed my tears,Kissed them away: said she, "Chamont, my son,By this, and all the love I ever showed thee,Be careful of Monimia; watch her youth;Let not her wants betray her to dishonour;Perhaps kind Heaven may raise some friend": then sighed,Kissed me again, so blessed us, and expired.Pardon my grief.Acast.It speaks an honest nature.Cham.The friend Heaven raised was you; you took her up,An infant, to the desert world exposed,And proved another parent.Acast.I've not wronged her!Cham.Far be it from my fears.Acast.Then why this argument?Cham.My lord, my nature's jealous, and you'll bear it.Acast.Go on.Cham.Great spirits bear misfortunes hardly:Good offices claim gratitude; and pride,Where power is wanting, will usurp a little,And make us, rather than be thought behind-hand,Pay over-price.Acast.I cannot guess your drift:Distrust you me?Cham.No, but I fear her weaknessMay make her pay a debt at any rate;And, to deal freely with your lordship's goodness,I've heard a story lately much disturbs me.Acast.Then first charge her; and if the offence be foundWithin my reach, though it should touch my nature,In my own offspring, by the dear remembranceOf thy brave father, whom my heart rejoiced in,I'd prosecute it with severest vengeance.[Exit.Cham.I thank you from my soul.Mon.Alas! my brother,What have I done? and why do you abuse me?My heart quakes in me; in your settled faceAnd clouded brow, methinks I see my fate:You will not kill me!Cham.Pr'ythee, why dost talk so?Mon.Look kindly on me, then: I cannot bearSeverity; it daunts, and does amaze me:My heart's so tender, should you charge me rough,I should but weep, and answer you with sobbing.But use me gently, like a loving brother,And search through all the secrets of my soul.Cham.Fear nothing, I will show myself a brother,A tender, honest, and a loving brother.You've not forgot our father?Mon.I shall never.Cham.Then you'll remember too, he was a manThat lived up to the standard of his honour,And prized that jewel more than mines of wealth:He'd not have done a shameful thing but once;Though kept in darkness from the world, and hidden,He could not have forgiven it to himself.This was the only portion that he left us;And I more glory in't than if possessedOf all that ever fortune threw on fools.'Twas a large trust, and must be managed nicely.Now if, by any chance, Monimia,You've soiled this gem, and taken from its value,How will you account with me?Mon.I challenge envy,Malice, and all the practices of hell,To censure all the actions of my pastUnhappy life, and taint me if they can!Cham.I'll tell thee then: three nights ago, as ILay musing in my bed, all darkness round me,A sudden damp struck to my heart, cold sweatDewed all my face, and trembling seized my limbs:My bed shook under me, the curtains started,And to my tortured fancy there appearedThe form of thee, thus beauteous as thou art;Thy garments flowing loose, and in each handA wanton lover, which by turns caressed theeWith all the freedom of unbounded pleasure:I snatched my sword, and in the very momentDarted it at the phantom; straight it left me;Then rose and called for lights; when, O dire omen!I found my weapon had the arras pierced,Just where that famous tale was interwoven,How the unhappy Theban[19]slew his father.Mon.And for this cause my virtue is suspected!Because in dreams your fancy has been ridden,I must be tortured waking!Cham.Have a care;Labour not to be justified too fast:Hear all, and then let Justice hold the scale.What followed was the riddle that confounds me:Through a close lane as I pursued my journey,And meditated on the last night's vision,I spied a wrinkled hag, with age grown double,Picking dry sticks and mumbling to herself;Her eyes with scalding rheum were galled and red;Cold palsy shook her head, her hands seemed withered,And on her crooked shoulders had she wrappedThe tattered remnant of an old striped hanging,Which served to keep her carcass from the cold;So there was nothing of a piece about her:Her lower weeds were all o'er coarsely patchedWith different-coloured rags, black, red, white, yellow,And seemed to speak variety of wretchedness.I asked her of my way, which she informed me;Then craved my charity, and bade me hastenTo save a sister:—at that word I started.Mon.The common cheat of beggars every day;They flock about our doors, pretend to giftsOf prophecy, and telling fools their fortunes.Cham.Oh! but she told me such a tale, Monimia,As in it bore great circumstance of truth:—Castalio and Polydore, my sister—Mon.Ha!Cham.What, altered! does your courage fail you?Now, by my father's soul, the witch was honest;Answer me, if thou hast not lost to themThy honour at a sordid game?Mon.I will,I must; so hardly my misfortune loads me.That both have offered me their loves, most true.Cham.And 'tis as true too, they have both undone thee.Mon.Though they both with earnest vowsHave pressed my heart, if e'er in thought I yieldedTo any but Castalio—Cham.But Castalio?Mon.Still will you cross the line of my discourse?Yes, I confess that he has won my soulBy generous love, and honourable vows:Which he this day appointed to complete,And make himself by holy marriage mine.Cham.Art thou then spotless? hast thou still preservedThy virtue white, without a blot, untainted?Mon.When I'm unchaste, may Heaven reject my prayers!Or, more to make me wretched, may you know it!Cham.Oh, then, Monimia, art thou dearer to meThan all the comforts ever yet blessed man.But let not marriage bait thee to thy ruin.Trust not a man; we are by nature false,Dissembling, subtle, cruel, and unconstant:When a man talks of love, with caution trust him;But if he swears, he'll certainly deceive thee.I charge thee let no more Castalio soothe thee:Avoid it as thou wouldst preserve the peaceOf a poor brother, to whose soul thou'rt precious.Mon.I will.Cham.Appear as cold, when next you meet, as great onesWhen merit begs; then shalt thou see how soonHis heart will cool, and all his pains grow easy.[Exit.Mon.Yes, I will try him, torture him severely;For, O Castalio! thou too much hast wronged me,In leaving me to Polydore's ill usage.He comes; and now, for once, O Love, stand neuter,Whilst a hard part's performed! for I must tempt,Wound his soft nature, though my heart aches for it.[Exit.
Cham.My lord, I stand in need of your assistanceIn something that concerns my peace and honour.
Acast.Spoke like the son of that brave man I loved;So freely, friendly we conversed together.Whate'er it be, with confidence impart it;Thou shalt command my fortune and my sword.
Cham.I dare not doubt your friendship nor your justice.Your bounty shown to what I hold most dear,My orphan sister, must not be forgotten.
Acast.Pr'ythee, no more of that: it grates my nature.
Cham.When our dear parents died, they died together,One fate surprised them, and one grave received them:My father with his dying breath bequeathedHer to my love: my mother, as she layLanguishing by him, called me to her side,Took me in her fainting arms, wept, and embraced me;Then pressed me close, and as she observed my tears,Kissed them away: said she, "Chamont, my son,By this, and all the love I ever showed thee,Be careful of Monimia; watch her youth;Let not her wants betray her to dishonour;Perhaps kind Heaven may raise some friend": then sighed,Kissed me again, so blessed us, and expired.Pardon my grief.
Acast.It speaks an honest nature.
Cham.The friend Heaven raised was you; you took her up,An infant, to the desert world exposed,And proved another parent.
Acast.I've not wronged her!
Cham.Far be it from my fears.
Acast.Then why this argument?
Cham.My lord, my nature's jealous, and you'll bear it.
Acast.Go on.
Cham.Great spirits bear misfortunes hardly:Good offices claim gratitude; and pride,Where power is wanting, will usurp a little,And make us, rather than be thought behind-hand,Pay over-price.
Acast.I cannot guess your drift:Distrust you me?
Cham.No, but I fear her weaknessMay make her pay a debt at any rate;And, to deal freely with your lordship's goodness,I've heard a story lately much disturbs me.
Acast.Then first charge her; and if the offence be foundWithin my reach, though it should touch my nature,In my own offspring, by the dear remembranceOf thy brave father, whom my heart rejoiced in,I'd prosecute it with severest vengeance.[Exit.
Cham.I thank you from my soul.
Mon.Alas! my brother,What have I done? and why do you abuse me?My heart quakes in me; in your settled faceAnd clouded brow, methinks I see my fate:You will not kill me!
Cham.Pr'ythee, why dost talk so?
Mon.Look kindly on me, then: I cannot bearSeverity; it daunts, and does amaze me:My heart's so tender, should you charge me rough,I should but weep, and answer you with sobbing.But use me gently, like a loving brother,And search through all the secrets of my soul.
Cham.Fear nothing, I will show myself a brother,A tender, honest, and a loving brother.You've not forgot our father?
Mon.I shall never.
Cham.Then you'll remember too, he was a manThat lived up to the standard of his honour,And prized that jewel more than mines of wealth:He'd not have done a shameful thing but once;Though kept in darkness from the world, and hidden,He could not have forgiven it to himself.This was the only portion that he left us;And I more glory in't than if possessedOf all that ever fortune threw on fools.'Twas a large trust, and must be managed nicely.Now if, by any chance, Monimia,You've soiled this gem, and taken from its value,How will you account with me?
Mon.I challenge envy,Malice, and all the practices of hell,To censure all the actions of my pastUnhappy life, and taint me if they can!
Cham.I'll tell thee then: three nights ago, as ILay musing in my bed, all darkness round me,A sudden damp struck to my heart, cold sweatDewed all my face, and trembling seized my limbs:My bed shook under me, the curtains started,And to my tortured fancy there appearedThe form of thee, thus beauteous as thou art;Thy garments flowing loose, and in each handA wanton lover, which by turns caressed theeWith all the freedom of unbounded pleasure:I snatched my sword, and in the very momentDarted it at the phantom; straight it left me;Then rose and called for lights; when, O dire omen!I found my weapon had the arras pierced,Just where that famous tale was interwoven,How the unhappy Theban[19]slew his father.
Mon.And for this cause my virtue is suspected!Because in dreams your fancy has been ridden,I must be tortured waking!
Cham.Have a care;Labour not to be justified too fast:Hear all, and then let Justice hold the scale.What followed was the riddle that confounds me:Through a close lane as I pursued my journey,And meditated on the last night's vision,I spied a wrinkled hag, with age grown double,Picking dry sticks and mumbling to herself;Her eyes with scalding rheum were galled and red;Cold palsy shook her head, her hands seemed withered,And on her crooked shoulders had she wrappedThe tattered remnant of an old striped hanging,Which served to keep her carcass from the cold;So there was nothing of a piece about her:Her lower weeds were all o'er coarsely patchedWith different-coloured rags, black, red, white, yellow,And seemed to speak variety of wretchedness.I asked her of my way, which she informed me;Then craved my charity, and bade me hastenTo save a sister:—at that word I started.
Mon.The common cheat of beggars every day;They flock about our doors, pretend to giftsOf prophecy, and telling fools their fortunes.
Cham.Oh! but she told me such a tale, Monimia,As in it bore great circumstance of truth:—Castalio and Polydore, my sister—
Mon.Ha!
Cham.What, altered! does your courage fail you?Now, by my father's soul, the witch was honest;Answer me, if thou hast not lost to themThy honour at a sordid game?
Mon.I will,I must; so hardly my misfortune loads me.That both have offered me their loves, most true.
Cham.And 'tis as true too, they have both undone thee.
Mon.Though they both with earnest vowsHave pressed my heart, if e'er in thought I yieldedTo any but Castalio—
Cham.But Castalio?
Mon.Still will you cross the line of my discourse?Yes, I confess that he has won my soulBy generous love, and honourable vows:Which he this day appointed to complete,And make himself by holy marriage mine.
Cham.Art thou then spotless? hast thou still preservedThy virtue white, without a blot, untainted?
Mon.When I'm unchaste, may Heaven reject my prayers!Or, more to make me wretched, may you know it!
Cham.Oh, then, Monimia, art thou dearer to meThan all the comforts ever yet blessed man.But let not marriage bait thee to thy ruin.Trust not a man; we are by nature false,Dissembling, subtle, cruel, and unconstant:When a man talks of love, with caution trust him;But if he swears, he'll certainly deceive thee.I charge thee let no more Castalio soothe thee:Avoid it as thou wouldst preserve the peaceOf a poor brother, to whose soul thou'rt precious.
Mon.I will.
Cham.Appear as cold, when next you meet, as great onesWhen merit begs; then shalt thou see how soonHis heart will cool, and all his pains grow easy.[Exit.
Mon.Yes, I will try him, torture him severely;For, O Castalio! thou too much hast wronged me,In leaving me to Polydore's ill usage.He comes; and now, for once, O Love, stand neuter,Whilst a hard part's performed! for I must tempt,Wound his soft nature, though my heart aches for it.[Exit.
Re-enterCastalio.
Cast.Monimia, Monimia!—She's gone;And seemed to part with anger in her eyes:I am a fool; and she has found my weakness;She uses me already like a slaveFast bound in chains, to be chastised at will.'Twas not well done to trifle with my brother:I might have trusted him with all the secret,Opened my silly heart, and shown it bare.But then he loves her too;—but not like me.I am a doting, honest slave, designedFor bondage, marriage-bonds, which I have swornTo wear. It is the only thing I e'erHid from his knowledge; and he'll sure forgiveThe first transgression of a wretched friend,Betrayed to love, and all its little follies.
Cast.Monimia, Monimia!—She's gone;And seemed to part with anger in her eyes:I am a fool; and she has found my weakness;She uses me already like a slaveFast bound in chains, to be chastised at will.'Twas not well done to trifle with my brother:I might have trusted him with all the secret,Opened my silly heart, and shown it bare.But then he loves her too;—but not like me.I am a doting, honest slave, designedFor bondage, marriage-bonds, which I have swornTo wear. It is the only thing I e'erHid from his knowledge; and he'll sure forgiveThe first transgression of a wretched friend,Betrayed to love, and all its little follies.
Re-enterPolydoreandPageat the Door.
Pol.Here place yourself, and watch my brother throughly:If he should chance to meet Monimia, makeJust observation of each word and action;Pass not one circumstance without remark:Sir, 'tis your office; do't, and bring me word.[Exit.
Pol.Here place yourself, and watch my brother throughly:If he should chance to meet Monimia, makeJust observation of each word and action;Pass not one circumstance without remark:Sir, 'tis your office; do't, and bring me word.[Exit.
Re-enterMonimia.
Cast.Monimia, my angel! 'twas not kindTo leave me like a turtle here alone,To droop and mourn the absence of my mate.When thou art from me, every place is desert,And I, methinks, am savage and forlorn:Thy presence only 'tis can make me blest,Heal my unquiet mind, and tune my soul.Mon.Oh, the bewitching tongues of faithless men!'Tis thus the false hyæna makes her moan,To draw the pitying traveller to her den:Your sex are so, such false dissemblers all;With sighs and plaints ye entice poor women's hearts,And all that pity you are made your prey.Cast.What means my love? Oh, how have I deservedThis language from the sovereign of my joys!Stop, stop those tears, Monimia, for they fallLike baneful dew from a distempered sky;I feel them chill me to the very heart.Mon.Oh, you are false, Castalio, most forsworn.Attempt no farther to delude my faith;My heart is fixed, and you shall shake't no more.Cast.Who told you so? what hell-bred villain durstProfane the sacred business of my love?Mon.Your brother, knowing on what terms I'm here,The unhappy object of your father's charity,Licentiously discoursed to me of love,And durst affront me with his brutal passion.Cast.'Tis I have been to blame, and only I;False to my brother, and unjust to thee.For, oh! he loves thee too, and this day owned it;Taxed me with mine, and claimed a right above me.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 nowI ever thought her dove-like, soft, and kind.Who trusts his heart with woman's surely lost:You were made fair on purpose to undo us,Whilst 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 made,Rough as the winds, and as inconstant too;A lofty aspect given him for command,Easily softened, when he would betray.Like conquering tyrants, you our breasts invade,Where you are pleased to forage for a while;But soon you find new conquests out, and leaveThe ravaged province ruinate and waste.If so, Castalio, you have served my heart,I find that desolation's settled there,And I shall ne'er recover peace again.Cast.Who can hear this, and bear an equal mind!Since you will drive me from you, I must go;But O, Monimia, when thou'st banished me,No creeping slave, though tractable and dullAs artful woman for her ends would choose,Shall ever dote as I have done: for oh!No tongue my pleasure nor my pain can tell;'Tis Heaven to have thee, and without thee hell.Mon.Castalio! stay! we must not part. I findMy rage ebbs out, and love flows in apace.These little quarrels love must needs forgive;They rouse up drowsy thoughts, and wake the soul.Oh! charm me with the music of thy tongue;I'm ne'er so blest as when I hear thy vows,And listen to the language of thy heart.Cast.Where am I? surely paradise is round me!Sweets planted by the hand of Heaven grow here,And every sense is full of thy perfection.To hear thee speak might calm a madman's frenzy,Till by attention he forgot his sorrows;But to behold thy eyes, thy amazing beauties,Might make him rage again with love, as I do.To touch thee's Heaven; but to enjoy thee, oh!Thou Nature's whole perfection in one piece!Sure, framing thee Heaven took unusual care;As its own beauty it designed thee fair;And formed thee by the best-loved angel there.[Exeunt.
Cast.Monimia, my angel! 'twas not kindTo leave me like a turtle here alone,To droop and mourn the absence of my mate.When thou art from me, every place is desert,And I, methinks, am savage and forlorn:Thy presence only 'tis can make me blest,Heal my unquiet mind, and tune my soul.
Mon.Oh, the bewitching tongues of faithless men!'Tis thus the false hyæna makes her moan,To draw the pitying traveller to her den:Your sex are so, such false dissemblers all;With sighs and plaints ye entice poor women's hearts,And all that pity you are made your prey.
Cast.What means my love? Oh, how have I deservedThis language from the sovereign of my joys!Stop, stop those tears, Monimia, for they fallLike baneful dew from a distempered sky;I feel them chill me to the very heart.
Mon.Oh, you are false, Castalio, most forsworn.Attempt no farther to delude my faith;My heart is fixed, and you shall shake't no more.
Cast.Who told you so? what hell-bred villain durstProfane the sacred business of my love?
Mon.Your brother, knowing on what terms I'm here,The unhappy object of your father's charity,Licentiously discoursed to me of love,And durst affront me with his brutal passion.
Cast.'Tis I have been to blame, and only I;False to my brother, and unjust to thee.For, oh! he loves thee too, and this day owned it;Taxed me with mine, and claimed a right above me.
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 nowI ever thought her dove-like, soft, and kind.Who trusts his heart with woman's surely lost:You were made fair on purpose to undo us,Whilst 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 made,Rough as the winds, and as inconstant too;A lofty aspect given him for command,Easily softened, when he would betray.Like conquering tyrants, you our breasts invade,Where you are pleased to forage for a while;But soon you find new conquests out, and leaveThe ravaged province ruinate and waste.If so, Castalio, you have served my heart,I find that desolation's settled there,And I shall ne'er recover peace again.
Cast.Who can hear this, and bear an equal mind!Since you will drive me from you, I must go;But O, Monimia, when thou'st banished me,No creeping slave, though tractable and dullAs artful woman for her ends would choose,Shall ever dote as I have done: for oh!No tongue my pleasure nor my pain can tell;'Tis Heaven to have thee, and without thee hell.
Mon.Castalio! stay! we must not part. I findMy rage ebbs out, and love flows in apace.These little quarrels love must needs forgive;They rouse up drowsy thoughts, and wake the soul.Oh! charm me with the music of thy tongue;I'm ne'er so blest as when I hear thy vows,And listen to the language of thy heart.
Cast.Where am I? surely paradise is round me!Sweets planted by the hand of Heaven grow here,And every sense is full of thy perfection.To hear thee speak might calm a madman's frenzy,Till by attention he forgot his sorrows;But to behold thy eyes, thy amazing beauties,Might make him rage again with love, as I do.To touch thee's Heaven; but to enjoy thee, oh!Thou Nature's whole perfection in one piece!Sure, framing thee Heaven took unusual care;As its own beauty it designed thee fair;And formed thee by the best-loved angel there.[Exeunt.