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And distant mountains, where they feed their Mon. My brother! flocks,
Cham. Yes, Monimia, if thou think'st The happy shepherds leave their homely buts, That I deserve the name, I am thy brother. And with their pipes proclaim the new-born day. Mon, 0 Castalio! There's no condition sure so curs'd as mine Cham. Ha! Monimia! O Monimia!
Name me that name again! my soul's on fire
Till I know all! – There's meaning in that Enter MONIMIA and FLORELLA.
name: Mon. I come!
I know he is thy husband; therefore trust me I fly to my ador'd Castalio's arms,
With all the following truth. My wishes' lord. May every morn begin
Mon. Indeed, Chamont, Like this: and, with our days, our loves renew! There's nothing in it but the fault of nature: Cas. Oh
I'm often thus sciz'd suddenly with grief, Mon. Art thou not well, Castalio? Come lean I know not why. Upon my breast, and tell me where's thy, pain. Cham. You use me ill, Monimia; Cas. Tis here--'tis in my head—'lis in my And I might think, with justice, most severely heart
Of this unfaithful dealing with your brother. where: it rages like a madness, Mon. Truly I'm not to blame. Suppose I'm And I most wonder how my reason holds.
fond, No more, Monimia, of your sex's aris: And grieve for what as much may please another? They're useless all — I'm not that pliant tool; Should I upbraid the dearest friend on earth I know my charter better-I am man, For the first fault? You would not do so, Obstinate man, and will not be enslav'd!
would you? Mon. You shall not feart; indeed my na- Cham. Not if I'd cause to think it was a friend.
Mon. Why do you then call this unfaithful I'll ever live your most obedient wife !
dealing? Nor ever any privilege pretend
I ne'er conceald my soul from you before: Beyond your will; for that shall be my law;- Bear with me now, and search my wounds Indeed I will not.
no further; Cas. Nay, you shall not, madam;
For every probing pains me to the heart. By yon bright heaven, you shall not: all the day Cham. 'Tis sign there's danger in't, and I'll play the tyrant, and at night forsake thee;
must be probid. Nay, if I've any loo, thou shalt be made Where's your new husband ? Still that thought Subservient to all my looser pleasures;
disturbs you, For thou hast wrong'd Castalio.
What!only answer me with tears ?-Castalio!Mon. Oh, kill me here, or tell me my offence! Nay, now they stream:I'll never quit you else; but on these knees, Cruel, unkind"Castalio!-Is't not so? Thus follow you all day, till they're worn bare, Mon. I cannot speak; – grief flows so fast And hang upon you like a drowning creature.
upon me, Castalio!
It chokes, and will not let me tell the cause. Cas. Away!-Last night! last night! Oh! Mon. It was our wedding night.
Cham. My Monimia! to my soul thou'rt der Cas. No more!-Forget it!
As honour to my name! Mon. Why! do you then repent? Why wilt thou not repose
my Cas. I do.
The anguish that torments thee ? Mon. O heaven!
Mon. Oh! I dare not.
[confide And will you leave me thus? - Help! help! Cham. I have no friend but thee. We mus Florella!
In one another.– Two unhappy orpbans, [Castalio drags her to the Door, Alas, we are! and when I see thee grieve,
breaks from her, and exit. Methinks it is a part of me that suffers. Help me to hold this yet lov'd, cruel man! Mon. Could you be secret? Castalio!-Oh! how often bas he sworn,
Cham. Secrei as the grave. Nature should change—the sun and stars grow Mon. But when I've told you, will you keep dark,
your fury Ere he would falsify his vows to me! Within its bounds? Will you not do some ras Make haste, confusion, then! Sun, lose thy light! And horrid mischies? For indeed, Chamont, And stars, drop dead with sorrow to the earth, You would not think how hardly I've been us For my Castalio's false !
From a dear friend-from one that has my sol False as the wind, the waters, or the weather! A slave, and therefore treats it like a tyrant Cruel as tigers o'er their trembling prey! Cham. I will be calm. — But bas Castali I feel him in my breast; he tears my heart,
wrong'd thee? And at each sigh he drinks the gushing blood! Has he already wasted all his love ? Must I be long in pain?
What has be done? – quickly! for I'm 3
trembling Enter CHAMONT.
With expectation of a horrid tale! Cham. In tears, Monimia!
Mon. Oh! could
think it? Mon. Whoe'er thou art,
Cham. What? Leave me alone to my belov'd despair!
Mon. I fear be'll kill me! Cham. Lift up thy eyes, and see wbo comes Cham. Ha! to cheer thee!
Mon. Indeed I do: he's strangely cruel to m Tell me the story of thy wrongs, and then Which, if it last, I'm sure must break my bea See if my soul bas rest, till thou hast justice. Cham. What has be done?
Mon. Most barbarously usd me.
Cham. Indeed I've been to blarne;
[Takes Monimia by the Hand. Cham. Go on!
Acas. Forbear the prologue, Mon. He threw me from bis breast, And let me know the substance of thy tale. Like a detested sin.
Cham. You took her up, a little tender flower, Cham. How!
Just sprouted on a bank, which the next frost Mon. As I bung too
Had nipp'd; and with a careful, loving band, 'pon bis knees, and begg'd to know the cause, Transplanted her into your own fair garden, He dragg'd me, like a slave, upon the earth, Where the sun always shines: there long sbe And had no pily on my cries.
flourish'd; Cham. How! did be
Grew sweet to sense, and lovely to the eye; Dash thee disdainfully away, with scorn ?
Till at the last a cruel spoiler came, Hon. lle did.
Cropp'd this fair rose, and rifled all its sweetness, Cham. What! throw thee from him ? Then cast it like a loathsome weed away. Von. Yes, indeed be did!
Acas. You talk to me in parables, Chamont: Cham. So may this arm
You may have known that I'm no wordy man. Throw him to th'earth, like a dead dog despis’d. Fine speeches are the instruments of knaves, Lameness and leprosy, blindness and lunacy, Or fools, that use them when they want good Poverty
, shame, pride, and the name of villain, Light on me, if, Castalio, I forgive thee! But honesty Von. Nay, now, Chamont, art thou unkind Needs no disguise or ornament.' Be plain. as he is!
Cham. Your sonDidst tbou no promise me thou wouldst be Acas. I've two; and both, I hope, have honour. calm ?
Cham. I hope so too; but Keep my disgrace conceald?
Acas. Speak. Alas
, I love kim still; and though I ne'er Cham. I must inform you,
Your son Castalio has wrong?d Monimia! Acas. Sure some ill fate is tow'rds me; in Acas. Ha! wrong'd her?
Cham. Marry'd her.
Cham. Why sorry ?
By yon blest heaven, there's not a lord Cham. Then you met a villain.
But might be proud to take her to his heart. Accs. fla!
Acas. I'll not deny't. Cham. Yes, a villain!
Cham. You dare not; by the gods, Acas. Have a care, young soldier, You dare not. All your family combin'd How shou'rt too busy with Acasto's fame. In one damn'd falsehood, to outdo Castalio, I have a sword, my arm's good old acquaint-Dare not deny't.
Acas. How has Castalio wrong'd her? Villain to thee.
Cham. Ask that of him. I say my sister's Cham. Curse on thy scandalous age, Which binders me to rush upon thy throat, Monimia, my sister, born as high 4ad tear the rool up of that cursed bramble! And noble as Castalio.-Do her justice, Acas. C'ngrateful ruffian! sure my good old Or, by the gods, I'll lay a scene of blood friend
Shall inake this dwelling horrible to nature. Was ne'er thy father! Nothing of him's in thee! I'll do't.-IIark you, my lord, your son Castalio, Wbat bare 1 done, in my unhappy, age, Take him to your closet, and there teach him To be tbus us’d? I scorn to upbraid thee, boy! but I could put thee in remembrance Acas. You shall have justice. Cham. Do.
Cham. Nay, I will have justice ! Acas. I scorn it.
Who'll sleep in safety that has done me wrong? Cham. No, I'll calmly bear the story;
My lord, I'll not disturb you to repeat For I would sain know all, lo see which scale The cause of this; I beg you (to preserve Weighs most.-Ha! is not that good old Acasto? Your house's honour) ask it of Castalio. [E.cit
. Waar bave I done?-Can you forgive this folly? Acas. Farewell, proud boy.Acas. Why dost thou ask it?
Mon. My lord.
[Kneels. Mon. I am, my lord, if you'll vouchsafe to Acas. Mock me not, youth! I can revenge a wrong
Acas. When you'll complain to me, I'll Cham. I know it well but for this thought
[Eril. of mine,
Mon. Now I'm undone for ever! Who on *ST a madman's frenzy, and forget it,
earth Acas. I will; but henceforth prythee be more Is there so wretched as Monimia ? kind.
(Raises him. First by Castalio cruelly forsaken ; it beace came the cause ?
I've lost Acasto now; his parting frowas
prove a father.
May well instruct me rage is in his heart. Let mischiess multiply! let erery hour
Mon. O Polydore! if all
Be not a falsehood, if you ever lov'd
Your brother, you've undone yourself and me. Pol. Monimia weeping!
Pol. Which way can ruin reach the man I come, my love, to kiss all sorrow from thee.
that's rich, What mean these sighs, and why thus beats As I am, in possession of ihy sweetness? thy heart?
Mon. Oh! I'm his wife!
Pol. Happy, Monimia, he to whom these sighs, Pol. His marry'd, wedded wife?
Mon. As surely as we both
Ilappy, with such a weight upon thy soul? I did, Monimia, and I curs'd the sound. Pol. It may be yet a secret.—I'll go try Wilt thou be sworn, my love? wilt thou be ne'er To reconcile and bring Castalio to thee! Unkind again?
Whilst from the world I take myself away, Mon. Banish such fruitless hopes! And waste my life in penance for my sin. Have you sworn constanoy to my undoing ? Mon. Then thou wouldst more undo me: Will you be ne'er my friend again?
heap a load Pol. What means my love?
of added sins upon my wretched head! Mon. Away! what meant my lord Wouldst thou again bave me betray thy brother, Last night?
And bring pollution to his arms? Curs'd Pol. Is that a question now to be demanded ?
thought! Mon. Was it well done
Oh! when shall I be mad indeed!
. T” assault my lodging at the dead of night, Pol. Then thus I'll goAnd threaten me if I deny'd admittance- Full of my guilt, distracted where to roam: You said you were Castalio.
I'll find some place where adders nest in winter, Pol. By those eyes,
Loathsome and venomous; where poisons hang It was the same: I spent my time much better. Like gums against the walls: there I'll inbabit, Mon. Ha!-have a care!
And live up to the height of desperation. Pol. Where is the danger near me? Desire shall languish like a with’ring flower, Mon. I fear you're on a rock will wreck Horrors shall fright me from those pleasing harms, your quiet,
And I'll no
more be caught with beauty's And 'drown your soul in wretchedness for eve
[E.tit. A thousand horrid thoughts crowd on my memory:
ACT V. Will you be kind, and answer me one question ?
SCENE I. A Garden. Pol. I'd trust thee with my lisc; on that soft bosom
Castalio discovered lying on the Ground Breathe out the choicest secrets of my heart,
Soft Music. Till I bad nothing in it left but love.
Cas. See where the deer trot after one another Mon. Nay, I'll conjure you, by the gods and No discontent they know; but in delightful angels,
Wildness and freedom, pleasant springs, fres. By the honour of your name, that's most con
Calm arbours, lusty bealth and innocence, To tell me, Polydore, and tell me truly, Enjoy their portion:-if they see a man, Where did you rest last night?
How will they turn together all, and gaze Pol. Within thy arms.
Upon the monster! Mon. 'Tis done.
. Once in a season too they taste of love: Pol. She faints !- no help!--- who waits ?- Only the beast of reason is its slave; A curse
And in that folly drudges all the year.
Acas. Castalio! Castalio!
Cas. Who's there
Acas. I hope my message may succeed.
Cas. My father!
With the remembrance of an ancient friendship. Tis joy to see you, though where sorrow's Cas. I am a villain, if I will not seek thee, nourish'd.
Till I may be reveng'd for all the wrongs Acas. Castalio, you must go along with me, Done me by that ungrateful fair thou plead'st for. And see Monimia.
Cham. She wrong'd thee? By the fury in Cas. Sure my lord but mocks me: Go see Monimia?
Thy father's honour's not above Monimia's; Acas. I say, no more dispute.
Nor was thy mother's truth and virtue fairer. Complaints are made to me that you have Acas. Boy, don't disturb the ashes of the dead wrong'd her.
With thy capricious follies; the remembrance Cas. Who bas complain'd?
Of the lov'd creature that once fill'd these armsAcas. Her brother io my face proclaim'd Cham. Ilas not been wrong'd. her wrong'd,
Cas. It shall not.
(as. Itat terms? Her brother! Heaven! Monimia, though a helpless orphan, destitute Where learn'd be that?
Of friends and fortune, though th' unhappy sister What does she send her hero with defiance? Of poor Chamont, whose sword is all his portion, lle durst not sure affront you ?
B' oppress'd by thee, thou proud, imperious Acas. So, not much:
Cas. Ha! set me free. Cas. Speak, what said he?
Cham. Come both. Acas. That thou wert a villain:
Cas. Sir, if you'd have me think you did Methinks I would not have thee thought a villain.
not take Cas. Shame on the ill-manner'd brute! This opportunity to show your vanity, Your age securd bim; he durst not else have said Let's meet some other time, when by ourselves tras. By my sword,
We fairly may dispute our wrongs together. I would not see thee wrong'd, and bear it vilely: Cham. Till then I'am Castalio's friend. Erit. Though I bare pass'd my word she shall have Acas. Would I'd been absent when this justice.
boist'rous brave Cas. Justice! to give her justice would un- Came to disturb thee thus. I'm griev'd I hinder'd do her.
Thy just resentment-But, Monimia-
Acas. Don't curse her.
Cas. I'm sorry for't.
the fault's nown'd
but small, For wronging innocence, and breaking yows; It might be pardon'd. Whose migliy spirit, and whose stubborn heart, Cas. No, A woman can appease, nor man provoke? Acas. What has she done? Acas. I guess, Chamont, you come to seek Cas. Tbat she's my wife, may heaven and Castalio?
you forgive me! Cham. I come to seek the husband of Monimia. Acas. Be reconcil'd then. Cai. The slave is here.
Cas. No. Cham. I thought ere now to have found you Acas. For my sake, Atnaing for the ills you've done Chamont: Castalio, and the quiet of my age. Is you bare wrongd the dearest part of him. Cas. Why will you urge a thing my naVuaimia, young lord, weeps in this beart;
ture starts at? And all the tears thy injuries have drawn Acas. Prythee forgive her. biom her poor eyes, are drops of blood from Cas. Lightnings first shall blast me! hence.
I tell you, were she prostrate at my feet, Cor. Then you are Chamont?
Full of her sex's best dissembled sorrows, Chem. Yes, and I hope no stranger
And all that wondrous beauty of her own, is great Castalio.
My heart might break, but it should never sosten. CaiIse beard of such a man,
Acas. Did you but know the agonies she feels2. tas been very busy with my honour. She flies with fury over all the house; i mean I'm much indebled to you, sir, Through every room of each apartment, crying, Ar.d here relurn the villain back again “Where's my Castalio ? Give me my Castalio!” • sent me by my father.
Except she sees you, sure she'll distracted! C'hom. Thus I'll thank you. [Draws. Cas. Ha! will she? Does she name Castalio ? 4cas. By this good sword, who first pre- And with such tenderness ? Conduct me quickly sumes to violence,
To the poor lovely mourner. kes me his foe. [Draws and interposes. Acas. Then wilt thou go? Blessings attend Car. Sir, in my younger years with care
thy purpose! you taught me
Cas. I cannot hear Monimia's soul's in sadness, brave revenge was due to injur'd honour: And be a man: my heart will not forget her. 15 se not then the justice of my sword, Acas. Delay not then; but haste and cheer saltou should make me jealous of your love.
thy love. Cham. Into thy father's arms thou fly'st for Cas. Oh! I will throw my impatient arms safety,
about her! Betase thou know'st that place is sanctify'd In her soft bosom sigh my soul to peace;
Till through the panting breast she finds the way (With torment I must tell it thee, Castalio),
[Exeunt. In some far distant country, waste my life,
And from this day to see thy face no more. Scene II.-A Chamber.
Cas. Why turn'st thou from me; I'm alone Enter MONIMIA.
already. Mon. Stand off, and give me room; Methinks I stand upon a naked beach, I will not rest till I have found Castalio, Sighing to winds, and to the seas complaining, My wish's lord, comely as the rising day. Whilst afar off the vessel sails away, I cannot die in peace till. I have seen him. Where all the treasure of my soul's embark'd;
Wilt thou not turn?-Oh! could those eyes Enter CastaliO.
but speak, Cas. Who talks of dying, with a voice so sweet I should know all, for love is pregnant in 'em; That life's in love with it?
They swell, they press their beams upon me still: Mon. Hark! 'tis he that answers.
Wilt thou not speak? If we must part for ever, Where art thou?
Give me but one kind word to think upon, Cas. Here, my love.
And please myself withal, whilst my beart's Mon. No nearer, lest I vanish.
breaking Cas. Have I been in a dream then all this while? Mon. Ah! poor Castalio!
[E.cit. And art thou but the shadow of Monimia?
Cas. What means all this? Why all this Why dost thou fly me thus?
stir to plague Mon. Oh! were it possible that we could A single wretch? If but your word can shake drown
This world to atoms, why so much ado In dark oblivion but a few past hours, With me? think me but dead, and lay me so. We might be happy. Cas. Is't then so hard, Monimia, to forgive
Enter POLYDORE. A fault, where humble love, like mine, im
Pol. To live, and live a torment to myself, plores thee?
What dog would bear't, that knew but his For I must love thee, though it prove my ruin.
condition? I'll kneel to thee, and weep a flood before thee. We've little knowledge, and that makes us Yet prythee, tyrant, break not quite my heart;
cowards, But when my task of penitence is done,
Because it cannot tell us what's to come. Heal it again, and comfort me with love.
Cas. Who's there?
Cas. Canst thou inform me-
Pol. Of what? Mon. Ah! alas, thou talk'st
Cas. Of my Monimia ? Just as thy poor heart thinks. Have not I Pol. No. Good day! wrong'd thee?
Cas. In baste! Cas. No.
Methinks my Polydore appears in sadness. Mon. Still thou wander'st in the dark, Castalio; Pol. Indeed! and so to me does my Castalio But wilt, ere long, stumble on horrid danger. Cas. Do I? Cas. My better
angel, then do thou inform me Pol. Thou dost. What danger threatens me, and where it lies; Gos. Alas, I've wondrous reason! Why wert ihou (pr’ythee smile, and tell me why), I'm strangely alter'd, brother, since I saw the When I stood waiting underneath the window, Pol. Why? Deaf to my cries, and senseless of my pains ? Cas. I'll tell thee, Polydore; I would repos
Mon. Did I not beg thee to forbear inquiry? Within thy friendly bosom all my follies: Read'st thou not something in my face, that For thou wilt pardon 'em, because ihey're mine speaks
Pol. Be noi too credulous; consider first, Wonderful change, and horror from within me? Friends may be false. Is there no friendship false
Cas. If, lab'ring in the pangs of death, Cas. Why dost thou ask me that? Doe Thou wouldst do any thing to give me ease, Unfold this riddle ere my thoughts grow wild, Like a false friendship, when, with open an And let in fears of ugly form upon me. And streaming eyes, I run upon thy breast Mon. My heart won't let me speak it; but Oh! 'tis in thee alone I must bare comfort remember,
Pol. I fear, Castalio, I have none to give the Monimia, poor Monimia, tells you this: Cas. Dost thou not love me then? We ne'er must meet again
Pol. Oh, more than life; Cas. Ne'er meet again?
I never had a thought of my Castalio, Mon. No, never.
Might wrong the friendship we had vow Cas. Where's the power.
Pol. Then tell me why this morning, And who shall rob me of the dear - bought
Cas. O Polydore, I know not how to tell the Mon. Time will clear all; but now let this Sbame rises in my face, and interrupts content you:
The story of my tongue. Heaven has decreed, and therefore I've resolvid Pol. I grieve, my friend