And distant mountains, where they feed their The happy shepherds leave their homely huts, Enter MONIMIA and FLORella. I fly to my ador'd Castalio's arms, Mon. Art thou not well, Castalio? Come lean Tis every where it rages like a madness, I'll ever live your most obedient wife! And grieve for what as much may please another? Cham. Not if I'd cause to think it was a friend. I ne'er conceal'd 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. Cas. Nay, you shall not, madam; Mon. Oh, kill me here, or tell me my offence! Cas. Away!-Last night! last night!- [Castalio drags her to the Door, breaks from her, and exit. Help me to hold this yet lov'd, cruel man! Castalio!-Oh! how often has he sworn, Nature should change-the sun and stars grow dark, Ere he would falsify his vows to me! False as the wind, the waters, or the weather! Enter CHAMONT. Cham. In tears, Monimia! Tell me the story of thy wrongs, and then no further; For every probing pains me to the heart. Where's your new husband? Still that thought upon me, It chokes, and will not let me tell the cause. Cham. My Monimia! to my soul thou'rt dear Why wilt thou not repose within my breast Mon. Oh! I dare not. [confide Cham. I have no friend but thee. We must Mon. Could you be secret? Mon. But when I've told you, will you keep Within its bounds? Will you not do some rast Has he already wasted all his love? With expectation of a horrid tale! Cham. What? Mon. I fear he'll kill me! Dash thee disdainfully away, with scorn? Cham. What! throw thee from him? Throw him to th' earth, like a dead dog despis'd. Mon. Nay, now, Chamont, art thou unkind as he is! Didst thou no: promise me thou wouldst be calm? Keep my disgrace conceal'd? Alas, I love him still; and though I ne'er Cham No, Pll calmly hear the story; For I would fain know all, to see which scale Weighs most.-Ha! is not that good old Acasto? What have I done?---Can you forgive this folly? Acas. Why dost thou ask it? Cham. Twas the rude o'erflowing Of too much passion-Pray, my lord, forgive [Kneels. Acas. Mock me not, youth! I can revenge me. a wrong. Cham. I know it well but for this thought| of mine, Cham. Indeed I've been to blame; For you've been my fatherYou've been, her father too. [Takes Monimia by the Hand. Acas. Forbear the prologue, And let me know the substance of thy tale. Grew sweet to sense, and lovely to the eye; Acas. You talk to me in parables, Chamont: You may have known that I'm no wordy man. Fine speeches are the instruments of knaves, Or fools, that use them when they want good But honesty sense: Needs no disguise or ornament. Be plain. Acas. I've two; and both, I hope, have honour. Cham. I must inform you, Acas. Still Castalio! Cham. Yes; Your son Castalio has wrong'd Monimia! Acas. I'm sorry for't. ? By yon blest heaven, there's not a lord Cham. You dare not; by the gods, Acas. How has Castalio wrong'd her? Cham. Ask that of him. I say my sister's wrong'd: Monimia, my sister, born as high And noble as Castalio.-Do her justice, Or, by the gods, I'll lay a scene of blood Shall make this dwelling horrible to nature. I'll do't.-Hark you, my lord, your son Castalio, Take him to your closet, and there teach him own me. Acas. When you'll complain to me, I'll Mon. Now I'm undone for ever! Who on Pity a madman's frenzy, and forget it. kind. Whence came the cause? May well instruct me rage is in his heart. [Sits down. I come, my love, to kiss all sorrow from thee. What mean these sighs, and why thus beats thy heart? Mon. Let me alone to sorrow; 'tis a cause None e'er shall know; but it shall with me die. Pol. Happy, Monimia, he to whom these sighs, These tears, and all these languishings are paid! I know your heart was never meant for me; That jewel's for an elder brother's price. Mon. My lord! Pol. Nay, wonder not; last night I heard His oaths, your vows, and to my torment saw Your wild embraces; heard the appointment made; I did, Monimia, and I curs'd the sound. Mon. Banish such fruitless hopes! Mon. Away! what meant my lord Last night? Pol. Is that a question now to be demanded? Tassault my lodging at the dead of night, Pol. By those eyes, It was the same: I spent my time much better. Mon. Ha!-have a care! Pol. Where is the danger near me? Mon. I fear you're on a rock will wreck your quiet, And 'drown your soul in wretchedness for ever. A thousand horrid thoughts crowd on my mem Let mischiefs multiply! let every hour The friendship e'er you vow'd to good Castalio As I am, in possession of thy sweetness? Saw it perform'd! Pol. My brother's wife? Must taste of misery, that guilt is thine.. Happy, with such a weight upon thy soul? Pol. It may be yet a secret.-I'll go try To reconcile and bring Castalio to thee! Whilst from the world I take myself away, And waste my life in penance for my sin. Mon. Then thou wouldst more undo me: heap a load Of added sins upon my wretched head! Wouldst thou again have me betray thy brother, And bring pollution to his arms? - Curs'd thought! [Exit. Oh! when shall I be mad indeed! CASTALIO charms. ACT V. SCENE I.-A Garden. [Exil discovered lying on the Ground. Soft Music. Cas. See where the deer trot after one another: No discontent they know; but in delightful Wildness and freedom, pleasant springs, fresh herbage, Calm arbours, lusty bealth and innocence, Once in a season too they taste of love: Enter ACASTO. Acas. Castalio! Castalio! Cas. Who's there So wretched but to name Castalio? Acas. I hope my message may succeed. Cas. My father! Tis joy to see you, though where sorrow's nourish'd. Acas. Castalio, you must go along with me, And see Monimia. Cas. Sure my lord but mocks me: Go see Monimia? Acas. I say, no more dispute. Complaints are made to me that you have wrong'd her. Cas. Who has complain'd? Acas. Her brother to my face proclaim'd her wrong'd, And in such terms they've warm'd me. Cas. What terms? Her brother! Heaven! Where learn'd he that? With the remembrance of an ancient friendship. Cas. I am a villain, if I will not seek thee, Till I may be reveng'd for all the wrongs Done me by that ungrateful fair thou plead'st for. Cham. She wrong'd thee? By the fury in my heart, Thy father's honour's not above Monimia's; Nor was thy mother's truth and virtue fairer. Acas. Boy, don't disturb the ashes of the dead With thy capricious follies; the remembrance Of the lov'd creature that once fill'd these armsCham. Has not been wrong'd. Cas. It shall not. Cham. No, nor shall Monimia, though a helpless orphan, destitute What, does she send her hero with defiance? Of poor Chamont, whose sword is all his portion, He durst not sure affront you? Acas. No, not much: But Cas. Speak, what said he? Acas. That thou wert a villain: Methinks I would not have thee thought a villain. Cas. Shame on the ill-manner'd brute! Your age secur'd him; he durst not else have said Acas. By my sword, I would not see thee wrong'd, and bear it vilely: Though I have pass'd my word she shall have justice. Cas. Justice! to give her justice would undo her. Think you this solitude I now have chosen, Enter CHAMONT. Cham. Where is the hero, famous and renown'd B' oppress'd by thee, thou proud, imperious traitor! For wronging innocence, and breaking vows; It Cham. I come to seek the husband of Monimia. Cham. I thought ere now to have found you Cas. Then you are Chamont? Cham. Yes, and I hope no stranger is great Castalio. Cas, I've heard of such a man, Cham. Thus I'll thank you. [Draws. Acas. By this good sword, who first presumes to violence, Lakes me his foe. [Draws and interposes. Cas. Sir, in my younger years with care you taught me at brave revenge was due to injur'd honour: pose not then the justice of my sword, at you should make me jealous of your love. Cham. Into thy father's arms thou fly'st for safety, Because thou know'st that place is sanctify'd Acas. For my sake, Castalio, and the quiet of my age. Cas. Why will you urge a thing my na ture starts at?. Acas. Pr'ythee forgive her. Cas. Lightnings first shall blast me! I tell you, were she prostrate at my feet, Acas. Then wilt thou go? Blessings attend thy purpose! Cas. I cannot hear Monimia's soul's in sadness, And be a man: my heart will not forget her. Acas. Delay not then; but haste and cheer thy love.. Cas. Oh! I will throw my impatient arms about her! 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), SCENE II.-A Chamber. Enter MONIMIA. Mon. Stand off, and give me room; I will not rest till I have found Castalio, My wish's lord, comely as the rising day. I cannot die in peace till. I have seen him. Enter CASTALIO. Cas. Why turn'st thou from me; I'm alone already. Methinks I stand upon a naked beach, Sighing to winds, and to the seas complaining, Whilst afar off the vessel sails away, Where all the treasure of my soul's embark'd; Wilt thou not turn?-Oh! could those eyes 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? In dark oblivion but a few past hours, Cas. Is't then so hard, Monimia, to forgive A fault, where humble love, like mine, implores thee? For I must love thee, though it prove my ruin. Mon. If I am dumb, Castalio, and want words Cas. No. Mon. Still thou wander'st in the dark, Castalio; But wilt, ere long, stumble on horrid danger. Cas. My better angel, then do thou inform me What danger threatens me, and where it lies; Why wert thou (pr'y thee smile, and tell me why), When I stood waiting underneath the window, Deaf to my cries, and senseless of my pains? Mon. Did I not beg thee to forbear inquiry? Read'st thou not something in my face, that speaks Wonderful change, and horror from within me? Monimia, poor Monimia, tells you this: Cas. Ne'er meet again? Mon. No, never. Cas. Where's the power On earth, that dares not look like thee, and say so? Mon. Time will clear all; but now let this content you: Heaven has decreed, and therefore I've resolv'd They swell, they press their beams upon me still: Wilt thou not speak? If we must part for ever, Give me but one kind word to think upon, And please myself withal, whilst my heart's breaking. Mon. Ah! poor Castalio! [Exit. Cas. What means all this? Why all this stir to plague A single wretch? If but your word can shake This world to atoms, why so much ado With me? think me but dead, and lay me so. Enter POLYDORE. Pol. To live, and live a torment to myself, What dog would bear't, that knew but his condition? We've little knowledge, and that makes us cowards, Because it cannot tell us what's to come. Cas. Who's there? Pol. Why, what art thou? Cas. Of my Monimia? Methinks my Polydore appears in sadness. Pol. Thou dost. Gos. Alas, I've wondrous reason! I'm strangely alter'd, brother, since I saw thee Pol. Why? Cas. I'll tell thee, Polydore; I would repos Within thy friendly bosom all my follies; For thou wilt pardon 'em, because they're mine Pol. Be not too credulous; consider first, Friends may be false. Is there no friendship false Cas. Why dost thou ask me that? Doc this appear Like a false friendship, when, with open arm I never had a thought of my Castalio, Might wrong the friendship we had vow together. Hast thou dealt so by me? Pol. Then tell me why this morning, disorder? Cas. O Polydore, I know not how to tell th Shame rises in my face, and interrupts The story of my tongue. Pol. I grieve, my friend |