FOOTNOTES:

FOOTNOTES:[18]"Superstitious" in old edition, but evidently a misprint.[19]Œdipus.

[18]"Superstitious" in old edition, but evidently a misprint.

[19]Œdipus.

EnterPolydoreandPage.

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 raged, Castalio grew disturbed;Each thought the other wronged, yet both so haughty,They scorned submission, though love all the whileThe 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, didTo 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 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 refused?Has he supplanted me by some foul play?Traduced my honour? death! he durst not do't.It must be so: we parted, and he met her,Half to compliance brought by me; surprisedHer sinking virtue, till she yielded quite.So poachers basely pick up tired game,Whilst the fair hunter's 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 describesWomen'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.[ExitPage.

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 raged, Castalio grew disturbed;Each thought the other wronged, yet both so haughty,They scorned submission, though love all the whileThe 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, didTo 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 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 refused?Has he supplanted me by some foul play?Traduced my honour? death! he durst not do't.It must be so: we parted, and he met her,Half to compliance brought by me; surprisedHer sinking virtue, till she yielded quite.So poachers basely pick up tired game,Whilst the fair hunter's 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 describesWomen'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.[ExitPage.

EnterServant.

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 raised high,And chased the goblet round the joyful board,A sudden trembling seized on all his limbs;His eyes distorted grew; his visage pale;His speech forsook him; life itself seemed fled;And all his friends are waiting now about him.

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 raised high,And chased the goblet round the joyful board,A sudden trembling seized on all his limbs;His eyes distorted grew; his visage pale;His speech forsook him; life itself seemed fled;And all his friends are waiting now about him.

EnterAcastoleaning on twoAttendants.

Acast.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 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 faultMy unmannerly infirmity has made.Death could not come in a more welcome hour,For I'm prepared to meet him; and, methinks,Would live and die with all my friends about me.

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 faultMy unmannerly infirmity has made.Death could not come in a more welcome hour,For I'm prepared to meet him; and, methinks,Would live and die with all my friends about me.

EnterCastalio.

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,I appear as great as Hercules himself,Supported by the pillars he had raised.Cast.My lord, your chaplain.Acast.Let the good man enter.

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,I appear as great as Hercules himself,Supported by the pillars he had raised.

Cast.My lord, your chaplain.

Acast.Let the good man enter.

EnterChaplain.

Chap.Heaven guard your lordship, and restore your health!Acast.I have provided for thee if I die.No fawning! 'tis a scandal to thy office.My sons, as thus, united, ever live;And for the estate, you'll find, when I am dead,I have divided it betwixt you both,Equally parted, as you shared my love;Only to sweet Monimia I've bequeathedTen thousand crowns; a little portion for her,To wed her honourably as she's born.Be not less friends because you're brothers; shunThe man that's singular,—his mind's unsound,His spleen o'erweighs his brains; but, above all,Avoid the politic, the factious fool,The busy, buzzing, talking, hardened knave,The quaint smooth rogue, that sins against his reason;Calls saucy loud suspicion public zeal,And mutiny the dictates of his spirit:Be very careful how ye make new friends.Men read not morals now; it was a custom:But all are to their fathers' vices born,And in their mothers' ignorance are bred.Let marriage be the last mad thing ye do,For all the sins and follies of the past.If you have children, never give them knowledge;'Twill spoil their fortune; fools are all the fashion.If you've religion, keep it to yourselves;Atheists will else make use of toleration,And laugh you out on't: never show religion,Except ye mean to pass for knaves of conscience,And cheat believing fools that think ye honest.

Chap.Heaven guard your lordship, and restore your health!

Acast.I have provided for thee if I die.No fawning! 'tis a scandal to thy office.My sons, as thus, united, ever live;And for the estate, you'll find, when I am dead,I have divided it betwixt you both,Equally parted, as you shared my love;Only to sweet Monimia I've bequeathedTen thousand crowns; a little portion for her,To wed her honourably as she's born.Be not less friends because you're brothers; shunThe man that's singular,—his mind's unsound,His spleen o'erweighs his brains; but, above all,Avoid the politic, the factious fool,The busy, buzzing, talking, hardened knave,The quaint smooth rogue, that sins against his reason;Calls saucy loud suspicion public zeal,And mutiny the dictates of his spirit:Be very careful how ye make new friends.Men read not morals now; it was a custom:But all are to their fathers' vices born,And in their mothers' ignorance are bred.Let marriage be the last mad thing ye do,For all the sins and follies of the past.If you have children, never give them knowledge;'Twill spoil their fortune; fools are all the fashion.If you've religion, keep it to yourselves;Atheists will else make use of toleration,And laugh you out on't: never show religion,Except ye mean to pass for knaves of conscience,And cheat believing fools that think ye honest.

EnterSerina.

Ser.My father!Acast.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!Acast.Rise to my arms, and thy kind prayers are answered,For thou'rt a wondrous extract of all goodness,Born for my joy, and no pain's felt when near thee.

Ser.My father!

Acast.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!

Acast.Rise to my arms, and thy kind prayers are answered,For thou'rt a wondrous extract of all goodness,Born for my joy, and no pain's felt when near thee.

EnterChamont.

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.Acast.Mayst thou be happy!Cham.Where?Acast.In all thy wishes.Cham.Confirm me so, and make this fair one mine.I am unpractised 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.Acast.What says Serina? Canst thou love a soldier?One born to honour, and to honour bred?One that has learnt to treat even foes with kindness;To wrong no good man's fame, nor praise himself?Ser.Oh, name not love, for that's allied 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.Acast.Chamont, pursue her, conquer and possess her;And, as my son, a third of all my fortuneShall be thy lot.But keep thy eyes from wandering, man of frailty:Beware the dangerous beauty of the wanton;Shun their enticements; ruin, like a vulture,Waits on their conquests: falsehood too's their business;They put[20]false beauty off to all the world;Use false endearments to the fools that love 'em;And, when they marry, to their silly husbandsThey bring false virtue, broken fame and fortune.Ser.Hear ye that, my lord?Cham.Yes, my fair monitor, old men always talk thus.Acast.Chamont, you told me of some doubts that pressed you.Are you yet satisfied that I'm your friend?Cham.My lord, I would not lose that satisfactionFor 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.Acast.I thank you. Daughter, you must do so too.My friends, 'tis late;For my disorder, it seems all past and over,And I methinks begin to feel new health.Cast.Would you but rest, it might restore you quite.Acast.Yes, I'll to bed; old men must humour weakness.Let me have music then, to lull and chaseThis melancholy thought of death away.Good-night, my friends! Heaven guard ye all! Good-night!To-morrow early we'll salute the day,Find out new pleasures, and redeem lost time.

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.

Acast.Mayst thou be happy!

Cham.Where?

Acast.In all thy wishes.

Cham.Confirm me so, and make this fair one mine.I am unpractised 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.

Acast.What says Serina? Canst thou love a soldier?One born to honour, and to honour bred?One that has learnt to treat even foes with kindness;To wrong no good man's fame, nor praise himself?

Ser.Oh, name not love, for that's allied 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.

Acast.Chamont, pursue her, conquer and possess her;And, as my son, a third of all my fortuneShall be thy lot.But keep thy eyes from wandering, man of frailty:Beware the dangerous beauty of the wanton;Shun their enticements; ruin, like a vulture,Waits on their conquests: falsehood too's their business;They put[20]false beauty off to all the world;Use false endearments to the fools that love 'em;And, when they marry, to their silly husbandsThey bring false virtue, broken fame and fortune.

Ser.Hear ye that, my lord?

Cham.Yes, my fair monitor, old men always talk thus.

Acast.Chamont, you told me of some doubts that pressed you.Are you yet satisfied that I'm your friend?

Cham.My lord, I would not lose that satisfactionFor 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.

Acast.I thank you. Daughter, you must do so too.My friends, 'tis late;For my disorder, it seems all past and over,And I methinks begin to feel new health.

Cast.Would you but rest, it might restore you quite.

Acast.Yes, I'll to bed; old men must humour weakness.Let me have music then, to lull and chaseThis melancholy thought of death away.Good-night, my friends! Heaven guard ye all! Good-night!To-morrow early we'll salute the day,Find out new pleasures, and redeem lost time.

[Exeunt all butChamontandChaplain.

Cham.Hist, hist, Sir Gravity, a word with you.Chap.With me, sir?Cham.If you're at leisure, sir, we'll waste an hour;'Tis yet too soon to sleep, and 'twill be charityTo lend your conversation to a stranger.Chap.Sir, you're a soldier?Cham.Yes.Chap.I love a soldier;

Cham.Hist, hist, Sir Gravity, a word with you.

Chap.With me, sir?

Cham.If you're at leisure, sir, we'll waste an hour;'Tis yet too soon to sleep, and 'twill 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 my parents would make me what you see me: yet I'm honest, for all I wear black.

Cham.And that's a wonder.Have you had long dependence 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,And I have manners:

Cham.And that's a wonder.Have you had long dependence 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,And I have manners:

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, eat and drink cheerfully, livesoberly, take my innocent pleasures freely; 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.Everybody loved him; besides, he was my master's friend.

Chap.I did, and was most sorry when we lost him.

Cham.Why? didst thou love him?

Chap.Everybody loved him; besides, he was my master'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?Nay, never start. Come, come, I know thy officeOpens thee all the secrets of the family.Then, if thou'rt honest, use this freedom kindly.

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?Nay, never start. Come, come, I know thy officeOpens thee all the secrets of the family.Then, if thou'rt honest, use this freedom kindly.

Chap.Loves your sister!Cham.Ay, loves her.Chap.Sir, I never asked him; and wonder you should ask it me.

Chap.Loves your sister!

Cham.Ay, loves her.

Chap.Sir, I never asked him; and wonder you should ask it me.

Cham.Nay, but thou'rt an hypocrite; is there not oneOf all thy tribe that's honest in your schools?The pride of your superiors makes ye slaves:Ye all live loathsome, sneaking, servile lives;Not free enough to practise generous truth,Though ye pretend to teach it to the world.Chap.I would deserve a better thought from you.Cham.If thou wouldst have me not contemn thy officeAnd character, think all thy brethren knaves,Thy trade a cheat, and thou its worst professor,Inform me; for I tell thee, priest, I'll know.Chap.Either he loves her, or he much has wronged her.Cham.How, wronged her! have a care; for this may layA scene of mischief to undo us all.But tell me—wronged her, saidst thou?Chap.Ay, sir, wronged her.Cham.This is a secret worth a monarch's fortune:What shall I give thee for't? thou dear physicianOf sickly souls, unfold this riddle to me,And comfort mine—Chap.I would hide nothing from you willingly.Cham.Nay, then again thou'rt honest. Wouldst thou tell me?Chap.Yes, if I durst.Cham.Why, what affrights thee?Chap.You do,Who are not to be trusted with the secret.Cham.Why, I am no fool.Chap.So, indeed, you say.Cham.Pr'ythee, be serious then.Chap.You see I am so,And hardly shall be mad enough to-nightTo trust you with my ruin.Cham.Art thou thenSo far concerned in't? What has been thy office?Curse on that formal steady villain's face!Just so do all bawds look; nay, bawds, they say,Can pray upon occasion, talk of Heaven,Turn up their goggling eye-balls, rail at vice,Dissemble, lie, and preach like any priest.Art thou a bawd?Chap.Sir, I'm not often used thus.Cham.Be just then.Chap.So I shall be to the trustThat's laid upon me.Cham.By the reverenced 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 moved, and I will trust you.Cham.Wilt thou?Chap.I will; but if it ever 'scape you—Cham.It never shall.Chap.Swear then.Cham.I do, by allThat's dear to me, by the honour of my name,And by that Power I serve, it never shall.Chap.Then this good day, when all the house was busy,When mirth and kind rejoicing filled each room,As I was walking in the grove I met them.Cham.What, met them in the grove together? tell me,How? walking, standing, sitting, lying? ha!Chap.I, by their own appointment, met them there;Received their marriage-vows, and joined their hands.Cham.How! married!Chap.Yes, sir.Cham.Then my soul's at peace:But why would you delay so long 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 even to them, the new-matched pair. Farewell.Believe my truth, and know me for thy friend.[Exeunt.

Chap.I would deserve a better thought from you.

Cham.If thou wouldst have me not contemn thy officeAnd character, think all thy brethren knaves,Thy trade a cheat, and thou its worst professor,Inform me; for I tell thee, priest, I'll know.

Chap.Either he loves her, or he much has wronged her.

Cham.How, wronged her! have a care; for this may layA scene of mischief to undo us all.But tell me—wronged her, saidst thou?

Chap.Ay, sir, wronged her.

Cham.This is a secret worth a monarch's fortune:What shall I give thee for't? thou dear physicianOf sickly souls, unfold this riddle to me,And comfort mine—

Chap.I would hide nothing from you willingly.

Cham.Nay, then again thou'rt honest. Wouldst thou tell me?

Chap.Yes, if I durst.

Cham.Why, what affrights thee?

Chap.You do,Who are not to be trusted with the secret.

Cham.Why, I am no fool.

Chap.So, indeed, you say.

Cham.Pr'ythee, be serious then.

Chap.You see I am so,And hardly shall be mad enough to-nightTo trust you with my ruin.

Cham.Art thou thenSo far concerned in't? What has been thy office?Curse on that formal steady villain's face!Just so do all bawds look; nay, bawds, they say,Can pray upon occasion, talk of Heaven,Turn up their goggling eye-balls, rail at vice,Dissemble, lie, and preach like any priest.Art thou a bawd?

Chap.Sir, I'm not often used thus.

Cham.Be just then.

Chap.So I shall be to the trustThat's laid upon me.

Cham.By the reverenced 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 moved, and I will trust you.

Cham.Wilt thou?

Chap.I will; but if it ever 'scape you—

Cham.It never shall.

Chap.Swear then.

Cham.I do, by allThat's dear to me, by the honour of my name,And by that Power I serve, it never shall.

Chap.Then this good day, when all the house was busy,When mirth and kind rejoicing filled each room,As I was walking in the grove I met them.

Cham.What, met them in the grove together? tell me,How? walking, standing, sitting, lying? ha!

Chap.I, by their own appointment, met them there;Received their marriage-vows, and joined their hands.

Cham.How! married!

Chap.Yes, sir.

Cham.Then my soul's at peace:But why would you delay so long 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 even to them, the new-matched pair. Farewell.Believe my truth, and know me for thy friend.[Exeunt.

Re-enterCastalioandMonimia.

Cast.Young Chamont, and the chaplain! sure 'tis they!No matter what's contrived, or who consulted,Since my Monimia's mine; though this sad lookSeems no good-boding omen to her bliss;Else, pr'ythee, tell me why that look cast down?Why that sad sigh, as if thy heart were breaking?Mon.Castalio, I am thinking what we've done.The heavenly powers were sure displeased to-day;For at the ceremony as we stood,And as your hand was kindly joined with mine,As the good priest pronounced the sacred words,Passion grew big, and I could not forbear;Tears drowned my eyes, and trembling seized my soul.What should that mean?Cast.Oh, thou art tender all;Gentle and kind as sympathising nature!When a sad story has been told, I've seenThy little breasts, with soft compassion swelled,Shove up and down, and heave like dying birds:But now let fear be banished, think no moreOf danger, for there's safety in my arms;Let them receive thee: Heaven, grow jealous now!Sure she's too good for any mortal creature;I could grow wild, and praise thee even to madness.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.Castalio, I am thinking what we've done.The heavenly powers were sure displeased to-day;For at the ceremony as we stood,And as your hand was kindly joined with mine,As the good priest pronounced the sacred words,Passion grew big, and I could not forbear;Tears drowned my eyes, and trembling seized my soul.What should that mean?

Cast.Oh, thou art tender all;Gentle and kind as sympathising nature!When a sad story has been told, I've seenThy little breasts, with soft compassion swelled,Shove up and down, and heave like dying birds:But now let fear be banished, think no moreOf danger, for there's safety in my arms;Let them receive thee: Heaven, grow jealous now!Sure she's too good for any mortal creature;I could grow wild, and praise thee even to madness.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.

Re-enterPolydore,behind.

Pol.So hot, my brother?[Aside.Mon.'Twill be impossible:You know your father's chamber's next to mine,And the least noise will certainly alarm him.Cast.Impossible! impossible! alas!Is't possible to live one hour without thee?Let me behold those eyes, they'll tell me truth.Hast thou no longing? Art thou still the sameCold, icy virgin? No; thou'rt 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'st power to stop a flowing tide,Or in a tempest make the seas be calm;And, when that's done, I'll conquer my desires.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 betrayed.Cast.Oh! doubt it not, Monimia; our joysShall be as silent as the ecstatic blissOf souls that by intelligence converse:Immortal pleasures shall our senses drown;Thought shall be lost, and every power dissolved:Away, my love! first take this kiss. Now haste.I long for that to come, yet grudge each minute past.

Pol.So hot, my brother?[Aside.

Mon.'Twill be impossible:You know your father's chamber's next to mine,And the least noise will certainly alarm him.

Cast.Impossible! impossible! alas!Is't possible to live one hour without thee?Let me behold those eyes, they'll tell me truth.Hast thou no longing? Art thou still the sameCold, icy virgin? No; thou'rt 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'st power to stop a flowing tide,Or in a tempest make the seas be calm;And, when that's done, I'll conquer my desires.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 betrayed.

Cast.Oh! doubt it not, Monimia; our joysShall be as silent as the ecstatic blissOf souls that by intelligence converse:Immortal pleasures shall our senses drown;Thought shall be lost, and every power dissolved:Away, my love! first take this kiss. Now haste.I long for that to come, yet grudge each minute past.

[ExitMonimia.

My brother wandering too so late this way!Pol.[Coming forward]. Castalio!Cast.My Polydore, how dost thou?How does our father; is he well recovered?Pol.I left him happily reposed to rest;He's still as gay as if his life were young.But how does fair Monimia?Cast.Doubtless well.A cruel beauty with her conquests pleasedIs 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?Cast.She's not woman else:Though I'm grown weary of this tedious hoping;We've 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'd 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'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.Cast.Nay, she has beauty that might shake the leaguesOf mighty kings, and set the world at odds;But I have wondrous reasons on my sideThat would persuade thee, were they known.Pol.Then speak them.What are they? came ye to her window hereTo learn them now? Castalio, have a care;Use honest dealing with your 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.Cast.Grant I do;You love capitulation, Polydore,And but upon conditions would oblige me.Pol.You say, you've reasons; why are they concealed?Cast.To-morrow I may tell you:It is a matter of such circumstance,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?Cast.It seems you've watched me then?Pol.I scorn the office.Cast.Pr'ythee avoid a thing thou mayst repent.Pol.That is, henceforward making leagues with you.Cast.Nay, if you're angry, Polydore, good night.[Exit.Pol.Good-night, Castalio, if you're in such haste.He little thinks I've overheard the 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 brother!In 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!

My brother wandering too so late this way!

Pol.[Coming forward]. Castalio!

Cast.My Polydore, how dost thou?How does our father; is he well recovered?

Pol.I left him happily reposed to rest;He's still as gay as if his life were young.But how does fair Monimia?

Cast.Doubtless well.A cruel beauty with her conquests pleasedIs 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?

Cast.She's not woman else:Though I'm grown weary of this tedious hoping;We've 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'd 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'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.

Cast.Nay, she has beauty that might shake the leaguesOf mighty kings, and set the world at odds;But I have wondrous reasons on my sideThat would persuade thee, were they known.

Pol.Then speak them.What are they? came ye to her window hereTo learn them now? Castalio, have a care;Use honest dealing with your 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.

Cast.Grant I do;You love capitulation, Polydore,And but upon conditions would oblige me.

Pol.You say, you've reasons; why are they concealed?

Cast.To-morrow I may tell you:It is a matter of such circumstance,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?

Cast.It seems you've watched me then?

Pol.I scorn the office.

Cast.Pr'ythee avoid a thing thou mayst repent.

Pol.That is, henceforward making leagues with you.

Cast.Nay, if you're angry, Polydore, good night.[Exit.

Pol.Good-night, Castalio, if you're in such haste.He little thinks I've overheard the 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 brother!In 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-enterPage.

Page.My lord.Pol.Come hither, boy.Thou hast a pretty, forward, lying face,And mayst in time expect preferment; canst thouPretend to secrecy, cajole and flatterThy master's follies, and assist his pleasures?Page.My lord, I could do anything 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 employed.Go to my brother; he's in's chamber nowUndressing, and preparing for his rest;Find out some means to keep him up awhileTell 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.—Well said, Polydore;Dissemble with thy brother.—That's one point;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 employed again.Page.Doubt not, my lord: he has been always kindTo me; would often set me on his knees;Then give me sweetmeats, call me pretty boy,And ask me what the maids talked of at nights.Pol.Run quickly then, and prosperous be thy wishes![ExitPage.Here I'm alone, and fit for mischief; nowTo cheat this brother, will't be honest that?I heard the sign she ordered him to give.O for the art of Proteus, but to changeThe happy Polydore to blest Castalio!She's not so well acquainted with him yet,But I may fit her arms as well as he.Then when I'm happily possessed of moreThan sense can think, all loosened into joy,To hear my disappointed brother come,And give the unregarded signal—oh,What a malicious pleasure will that be!"Just three soft strokes against the chamber-door:But speak not the least word; for if you should,'Tis surely heard, and we are both betrayed."How I adore a mistress that contrivesWith care to lay the business of her joys!One that has wit to charm the very soul,And give a double relish to delight!Blest Heaven, 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.Flor.[At the window.] Who's there?Pol.'Tis I.Flor.My Lord Castalio?Pol.The same.How does my love, my dear Monimia?Flor.Oh!She wonders much at your unkind delay;You've stayed 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 opened.

Page.My lord.

Pol.Come hither, boy.Thou hast a pretty, forward, lying face,And mayst in time expect preferment; canst thouPretend to secrecy, cajole and flatterThy master's follies, and assist his pleasures?

Page.My lord, I could do anything 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 employed.Go to my brother; he's in's chamber nowUndressing, and preparing for his rest;Find out some means to keep him up awhileTell 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.—Well said, Polydore;Dissemble with thy brother.—That's one point;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 employed again.

Page.Doubt not, my lord: he has been always kindTo me; would often set me on his knees;Then give me sweetmeats, call me pretty boy,And ask me what the maids talked of at nights.

Pol.Run quickly then, and prosperous be thy wishes![ExitPage.Here I'm alone, and fit for mischief; nowTo cheat this brother, will't be honest that?I heard the sign she ordered him to give.O for the art of Proteus, but to changeThe happy Polydore to blest Castalio!She's not so well acquainted with him yet,But I may fit her arms as well as he.Then when I'm happily possessed of moreThan sense can think, all loosened into joy,To hear my disappointed brother come,And give the unregarded signal—oh,What a malicious pleasure will that be!"Just three soft strokes against the chamber-door:But speak not the least word; for if you should,'Tis surely heard, and we are both betrayed."How I adore a mistress that contrivesWith care to lay the business of her joys!One that has wit to charm the very soul,And give a double relish to delight!Blest Heaven, 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.

Flor.[At the window.] Who's there?

Pol.'Tis I.

Flor.My Lord Castalio?

Pol.The same.How does my love, my dear Monimia?

Flor.Oh!She wonders much at your unkind delay;You've stayed 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 opened.

[Florellaretires.

Now boast, Castalio; triumph now, and tellThyself strange stories of a promised bliss![The door is unbolted.It opens: ha! what means my trembling flesh?Limbs, do your office and support me well;Bear me to her, then fail me if you can.[Exit.

Re-enterCastalioandPage.

Page.Indeed, my lord, 'twill be a lovely morning;Pray let us hunt.Cast.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.Cast.No, my kind boy, the night is too far wasted;My senses too are quite disrobed of thought,And ready all with me to go to rest.Good-night: commend me to my brother.

Page.Indeed, my lord, 'twill be a lovely morning;Pray let us hunt.

Cast.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.

Cast.No, my kind boy, the night is too far wasted;My senses too are quite disrobed of thought,And ready all with me to go to rest.Good-night: commend me to my brother.

Page.Oh! you never heard the last new song I learnt; it is the finest, prettiest song indeed, of my lord and my lady you know who, that were caught together, you know where. My lord, indeed, it is.Cast.You must be whipped, youngster, if you get such songs as those are. What means this boy's impertinence to-night?Page.Why, what must I sing, pray, my dear lord?Cast.Psalms, child, psalms.Page.Oh dear me! boys that go to school learn psalms; but pages, that are better bred, sing lampoons.Cast.Well, leave me; I'm weary.Page.Oh! but you promised me, last time I told you what colour my Lady Monimia's stockings were of, and that she gartered them above the knee, that you would give me a little horse to go a-hunting upon; so you did. I'll tell you no more stories, except you keep your word with me.Cast.Well, go, you trifler, and to-morrow ask me.Page.Indeed, my lord, I can't abide to leave you.Cast.Why, wert thou instructed to attend me?Page.No, no, indeed, indeed, my lord, I was not; But I know what I know.Cast.What dost thou know? Death! what can all this mean?Page.Oh! I know who loves somebody.Cast.What's that to me, boy?Page.Nay, I know who loves you too.Cast.That is a wonder; pr'ythee tell it me.Page.That—'tis—I know who—but will you give me the horse then?Cast.I will, my child.Page.It is my Lady Monimia, look you; but don'tyou tell her I told you: she'll give me no more playthings then, I heard her say so as she lay a-bed, man.Cast.Talked she of me when in her bed, Cordelio?Page.Yes, and I sung her the song you made too; and she did so sigh, and so look with her eyes, and her breasts did so lift up and down; I could have found in my heart to have beat them, for they made me ashamed.

Page.Oh! you never heard the last new song I learnt; it is the finest, prettiest song indeed, of my lord and my lady you know who, that were caught together, you know where. My lord, indeed, it is.

Cast.You must be whipped, youngster, if you get such songs as those are. What means this boy's impertinence to-night?

Page.Why, what must I sing, pray, my dear lord?

Cast.Psalms, child, psalms.

Page.Oh dear me! boys that go to school learn psalms; but pages, that are better bred, sing lampoons.

Cast.Well, leave me; I'm weary.

Page.Oh! but you promised me, last time I told you what colour my Lady Monimia's stockings were of, and that she gartered them above the knee, that you would give me a little horse to go a-hunting upon; so you did. I'll tell you no more stories, except you keep your word with me.

Cast.Well, go, you trifler, and to-morrow ask me.

Page.Indeed, my lord, I can't abide to leave you.

Cast.Why, wert thou instructed to attend me?

Page.No, no, indeed, indeed, my lord, I was not; But I know what I know.

Cast.What dost thou know? Death! what can all this mean?

Page.Oh! I know who loves somebody.

Cast.What's that to me, boy?

Page.Nay, I know who loves you too.

Cast.That is a wonder; pr'ythee tell it me.

Page.That—'tis—I know who—but will you give me the horse then?

Cast.I will, my child.

Page.It is my Lady Monimia, look you; but don'tyou tell her I told you: she'll give me no more playthings then, I heard her say so as she lay a-bed, man.

Cast.Talked she of me when in her bed, Cordelio?

Page.Yes, and I sung her the song you made too; and she did so sigh, and so look with her eyes, and her breasts did so lift up and down; I could have found in my heart to have beat them, for they made me ashamed.

Cast.Hark, what's that noise? Take this, begone, and leave me.You knave, you little flatterer, get you gone.[ExitPage.Surely it was a noise. Hist!—only fancy;For all is hushed, as Nature were retired,And the perpetual motion standing still,So much she from her work appears to cease,And every warring element's at peace;All the wild herds are in their coverts couched;The fishes to their banks or ooze repaired,And to the murmurs of the waters sleep;The feeling air's at rest, and feels[21]no noise,Except of some soft breaths among the trees,Rocking the harmless birds that rest upon them.'Tis now that, guided by my love, I goTo take possession of Monimia's arms.Sure Polydore's by this time gone to bed.At midnight thus the usurer steals untracked,To make a visit to his hoarded gold,And feast his eyes upon the shining mammon.[Knocks.She hears me not; sure she already sleeps;Her wishes could not brook my long delay,And her poor heart has beat itself to rest.[Knocks again.Monimia! my angel—ha!—not yet—How long's the shortest[22]moment of delayTo a heart impatient of its pangs, like mine,In sight of ease, and panting to the goal!Once more—[Knocks again.Flor.[At the window.] Who's there,That comes thus rudely to disturb our rest?Cast.'Tis I.Flor.Who are you? what's your name?Cast.SupposeThe Lord Castalio.Flor.I know you not.The Lord Castalio has no business here.Cast.Ha! have a care; what can this mean? whoe'erThou art, I charge thee to Monimia fly;Tell her I'm here, and wait upon my doom.Flor.Whoe'er ye are, ye may repent this outrage;My lady must not be disturbed. Good-night.Cast.She must, tell her she shall; go, I'm in haste,And bring her tidings from the State of Love;They're all in consultation met together,How to reward my truth, and crown her vows.Flor.Sure the man's mad!Cast.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.Flor.My lady's answer is, you may depart;She says she knows you: you are Polydore,Sent by Castalio, as you were to-day,To affront and do her violence again.Cast.I'll not believe't.Flor.You may, sir.Cast.Curses blast thee!Flor.Well, 'tis a fine cool evening; and I hopeMay cure the raging fever in your blood.Good-night.[Retires.Cast.And farewell all that's just in woman!This is contrived, a studied trick to abuseMy easy nature, and torment my mind;Sure now she has bound me fast, and means to lord it,To rein me hard, and ride me at her will,Till by degrees she shape me into foolFor all her future uses. Death and torment!'Tis impudence to think my soul will bear it.Oh, I could grow even wild, and tear my hair'Tis well, Monimia, that thy empire's shortLet 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 the inconstant sex.Faithless Monimia! O Monimia!

Flor.[At the window.] Who's there,That comes thus rudely to disturb our rest?

Cast.'Tis I.

Flor.Who are you? what's your name?

Cast.SupposeThe Lord Castalio.

Flor.I know you not.The Lord Castalio has no business here.

Cast.Ha! have a care; what can this mean? whoe'erThou art, I charge thee to Monimia fly;Tell her I'm here, and wait upon my doom.

Flor.Whoe'er ye are, ye may repent this outrage;My lady must not be disturbed. Good-night.

Cast.She must, tell her she shall; go, I'm in haste,And bring her tidings from the State of Love;They're all in consultation met together,How to reward my truth, and crown her vows.

Flor.Sure the man's mad!

Cast.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.

Flor.My lady's answer is, you may depart;She says she knows you: you are Polydore,Sent by Castalio, as you were to-day,To affront and do her violence again.

Cast.I'll not believe't.

Flor.You may, sir.

Cast.Curses blast thee!

Flor.Well, 'tis a fine cool evening; and I hopeMay cure the raging fever in your blood.Good-night.[Retires.

Cast.And farewell all that's just in woman!This is contrived, a studied trick to abuseMy easy nature, and torment my mind;Sure now she has bound me fast, and means to lord it,To rein me hard, and ride me at her will,Till by degrees she shape me into foolFor all her future uses. Death and torment!'Tis impudence to think my soul will bear it.Oh, I could grow even wild, and tear my hair'Tis well, Monimia, that thy empire's shortLet 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 the inconstant sex.Faithless Monimia! O Monimia!

EnterErnesto.

Back to Index Next