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'Till more be known.

Page. Doubt not, my lord. He has been alPol. When yon, Castalio, cease To meet Monimia unknown to me,

To me; would often set me on his knee, And then deny it slavishly, I'll cease

Then give me sweetmeats, call me pretty boy, To think Castalio faithless to his friend.

And ask me what the maids talked of at nights. Did not I see you part this very moment? Pol. Run quickly, then, and prosp'rous be thy Cast. It seems you have watched me, then?

wishes.

Erit Page Pol. I scorn the office.

Here I am alone, and fit for mischief; now Cast. Prithee avoid a thing thou mayest re- To cheat this brother, will it be honest that? pent.

I heard the sign she ordered him to give. Pol. That is henceforward making leagues with O, for the art of Proteus, but to change you.

The unhappy Polydore to blest Castalio! Cast. Nay, if you are angry, Polydore, good- She is not so well acquainted with him yet, night.

[Erit. But I may fit her arms as well as he. Pol. Good-night, Castalio, if you are in such Then, when I am happily possessed of more haste.

Than sense can think, all loosened into joy, He little thinks I have overheard the appoint-To hear my disappointed brother come, ment;

And give the unregarded signal; Oh, But to his chamber's gone to wait a while, What a malicious pleasure will that be! Then come and take possession of my love. ‘Just three soft strokes against the chamber door; This is the utmost point of all my hopes; ‘But speak not the least word, for if you should, Or now she must, or never can be mine. " 'Tis surely heard, and we are both betrayed.' 0, for a means now, how to counterplot, How I adore a mistress, that contrives And disappoint this happy elder brother! With care to lay the business of her joys; In every thing we do or undertake

One that has wit to charm the very soul, He soars above me, mount what height I can, And give a double relish to delight! And keeps the start he got of me in birth, Blest heavens, assist me but in this dear hour, Cordelio!

And my kind stars be but propitious now,

Dispose of me hereafter as you please.
Enter Page.
Monimia ! Monimia !

Gives the sig. Page. My lord !

(Maid at the window.) Who's there? Pol. Come hither, boy.

Pol. 'Tis I. Thou hast a pretty, forward, lying face,

Maid. My lord Castalio? And mayest in time expect preferment. Canst

Pol. The same. thou

How does my love, my dear Monimia ?
Pretend to secrecy, cajole and flatter

Maid. Oh!
Thy master's follies, and assist his pleasures? She wonders much at your unkind delay;

Page. My lord, I could do any thing for you, You have staid so long, that at each little noise And ever be a very faithful boy.

The wind but makes, she asks if you are coming. Command, whate'er's your pleasure I'll observe; Pol. Tell her I'm here, and let the door be Be it to run, or watch, or to convey

opened.

[Maid descends. A letter to a beauteous lady's bosom;

Now boast, Castalio, triumph now, and tell At least, I am not dull, and soon should learn. Thyself strange stories of a promised bliss. Pol. 'Tis pity, then, thou should'st not be em

[The door unbolts. ployed,

It opens ! Ha! what means my treinbling flesh? Go to my brother, he is in his chamber now, Limbs do your office, and support me well; Undressing, and preparing for his rest: Bear me to her, then—fail me if you can ! (Exit. Find out some means to keep him up awhile; Tell him a pretty story, that may please

Enter Castalio and Page, His ear; invent a tale, no matter what:

Page. Indeed, my lord, 'twill be a lovely mornIf he should ask of me, tell him I am gone

ing:
To bed, and sent you there to know his pleasure, Pray let us hunt.
Whether he will hunt to-morrow. Well said, Cast. Go, you are an idle prattler.
Polydore,

I'll stay at home to-morrow; if your lord Dissemble with thy brother ! that's one point. Thinks fit, he may command my hounds. Go,

[Aside. But do not leave him, till he is in bed,

I must to bed. Or if he chance to walk again this way,

Page. I'll wait upon your lordship, Follow and do not quit him, but seem fond If you think fit, and sing you to repose. To do him little offices of service.

Cast. No, my kind boy, the night is too far Perhaps at last it may offend him; then

wasted; Retire, and wait till I come in. Away: My senses are quite disrobed of thought, Succeed in this, and be employed again. ; And ready all with me to go to rest.

leave me,

me.

Good-night. Commend me to my brother. The feeling air's at rest, and feels no noise, Page. Oh!

Except of some soft breeze among the trees, You never heard the last new song I learned ! Rocking the harmless birds that rest

upon

them. It is the finest, prettiest song indeed,

'Tis now, that, guided by my love, I go Of my lord and my lady, you know who, that To take possession of my Monimia's charms. were caught

Sure Polydore's by this time gone to bed. Together, you know where. My lord, indeed it is. At midnight thus the usurer steals untracked, Cast. You must be whipped, youngster, if you To make a visit to his hoarded gold, get such songs as those are.

And feasts his eyes upon the shining mammon. What means this boy's impertinence to-night?

[Knocks. Page. What, what must I sing, pray, my dear She hears me not; sure she already sleeps; lord ?

Her wishes could not brook so long delay, Cast. Psalms, child, psalms.

And her poor heart has beat itself to rest. Page. Oh, dear me! boys that go to school

(Knocks again. learn psalms

Monirnia! my angel !-hanot yet-
But pages, that are better bred, sing lampoons. How long's the shortest moment of delay,
Cast. Well, leave me.
I am weary

To a heart impatient of its pangs like mine,
Page. Oh! but you promised me, the last time In sight of ease, and panting to the goal.
I told you what colour my dy Monimia's stock-

(Knocks again ings were of, and that she gartered them above Once more knee, that you would give me a little horse to go Maid. [At the window.] Who's there, a hunting upon, so you did. I'll tell you no more That comes thus rudely to disturb our rest? Stories, except you keep your word with me. Cast. 'Tis I. Cast. Well, go, you trífler, and to-morrow ask Maid. Who are you? What's your

name?

Cast. Suppose the lord Castalio. Page. Indeed, my lord, I can't abide to leave

Maid. I know you not. you.

The lord Castalio has no business here. Cast. Why, wert thou instructed to attend me? Cast. Ha! have a care; what can this mean!

Page. No, no, indeed, my lord, I was not; Whoe'er thou art, I charge thee to Monimia fly; But I know what I know.

Tell her I'm here, and wait upon my doom. Cast. What dost thou know? Death! what Muid. Whoe'er you are, ye may repent this can all this mean?

outrage. Page. Oh! I know who loves somebody. My lady must not be disturbed. "Good-night. Cast. What's that to me, boy?

Cast. She must; tell her she shall.

Go, I'm Page. Nay, I know who loves you too.

in haste, Cast. That's a wonder ! prithee tell it me. And bring her tidings from the State of Love;

Page. 'Tis,—'tis—I know who—but will They are all in consultation met together, You give me the horse, then?

How to reward my truth, and crown her vows. Cast. I will, my child.

Maid. Sure the man's mad! Page. It is my lady Monimia, look you; but Cast. Or this will make me so. don't you tell her I told you; she'll give me no Obey me, or by all the wrongs I suffer, more play-things then. I heard her say so, as she I'll scale the window, and come in by force, lay a-bed, man.

Let the sad consequence be what it will ! Cast. Talk'd she of me, when in her bed, Cor. This creature's trifling folly makes me mad! delio?

Maid. My lady's answer is, you may depart. Page. Yes, and I sung her the song you made, She says she knows you; you are Polydore, too; and she did so sigh, and so look with her Sent by Castalio, as you were to-day, eyes; and her breasts did so lift up and down, I To affront and do her violence again. could have found in my heart to have beat thein, Cast. I'll not believe it. for they made me ashamed.

Maid. You may, sir. Cast. Hark! what's that noise?

Cast, Curses blast thee! Take this, begone, and leave me.

Maid. Well, 'tis a fine cool evening; and, I You knave, you little flatterer, get you gone!

hope,

[Erit Puge. May cure the raging fever in your blood. Surely it was a noise ! hist-only fancy; Good-night. For all is hushed, as Nature were retired,

Cast. And farewell all that's just in women! And the perpetual motion standing still,

This is contrived; a studied trick, to abuse So much she from her work appears to cease. My easy nature, and torment my mind. And every warring element's at peace :

Sure now she's bound me fast, and means to lord All the wild herds are in the coverts couched;

it, The fishes to their banks or ouze repaired, To rein me hard, and ride me at her will, And to the murinurs of the waters sleep; 'Till by degrees she shape me into fool,

For all her future uses. Death and torment! And not the reason know of your disorders. 'Tis impudence to think my soul will bear it. Remember how, when young, I in my arms Oh! I could grow even wild, and tear my hair ! Have often borne you, pleased you in your plea'Tis well, Monimia, that thy empire's short;

sures, Let but to-morrow, but to-morrow.come, And sought an early share in your affection : And try if all thy arts appease my wrongs ;

Do not discard me now, but let me serve you. 'Till when, be this detested place my bed,

Cast. Thou canst not serve me. (Lies down.

Ern. Why? Where I will ruminate on woman's ills,

Cast. Because my thoughts Laugh at myself, and curse the inconstant sex. Are full of woman; thou, poor wretch, art past Faithless Monimia ! Oh, Monimia !

them.

Ern. I hate the sex.
Enter ERNESTO.

Cast. Then I'm thy friend, Ernesto. [Rises. Ern. Either

I'd leave the world for him, that hates a woman. My sense has been deluded, or this way, Woman, the fountain of all human frailty ! I heard the sound of sorrow; 'tis late night, What mighty ills have not been done by woman? And none, whose mind's at peace, would wander Who was't betrayed the capitol? A woman.

Who lost Marc Antony the world? A woman. Cast. Who's there?

Who was the cause of a long ten years war, Ern. A friend.

And laid at last old Troy in ashes? Woman! Cast. If thou art so, retire,

Destructive, damnable, deceitful woman! And leave this place; for I would be alone. Woman to man first as a blessing given, Ern. Castalio! my lord, why in this posture,

When innocence and love were in their prime; Stretched on the ground? Your honest, true old Happy a while in Paradise they lay, servant,

But quickly woman longed to go astray; Your poor Ernesto, cannot see you thus. Some foolish, new adventure needs must prove, Rise, I beseech you.

And the first devil she saw, she changed her Cast. If thou art Ernesto,

love; As by thy honesty thou seem'st to be,

To his temptations lewdly she inclined Once leave me to my folly.

Her soul, and for an apple damned mankind ! Erm. I cannot leave you,

(E.reunt.

now.

ACT IV.

SCENE I-A Saloon.

Acast. Have you yet seen Castalio to-day?

Pol. My lord, 'tis early day; he's hardly risen. ACASTO solus.

Acast. Go, call him up, and meet me in the Acast. Blest be the morning, that has brought chapel.

[Erit Polydore. me health;

I cannot think all has gone well to-night; A happy rest has softened pain away,

For as I waking lay (and sure my sense And I'll forget it, though my mind's not well; Was then my own) I thought I heard my-son A heavy melancholy clogs my heart;

Castalio's voice; but it seemed low, and mournful; I droop and sigh, I know not why. Dark dreams, Under my window, too, I thought I heard ita Sick fancy's children, have been over-busy, My untoward fancy could not be deceived And all the night played farces in my brain. In every thing, and I will search the truth out. Methought I heard the midnight raven cry;

Enter MONIMIA, Waked with the imagined noise, my curtain seemed

Already up, Monimia ! you rose To start, and at my feet my sons appeared, Thus early, sure, to outshine the day: Like ghosts, all pale and stiff; I strove to speak, Or was there any thing, that crossed your rest? But could not : suddenly the forms were lost, They were naughty thoughts, that would not let And seemed to vanish in a bloody cloud.

you sleep. 'Twas odd, and for the present, shook my

Mon: Whatever are my thoughts, my lord, I thoughts;

have learnt But 'twas the effect of my distempered blood; By your example to correct their ills, And, when the health's disturbed, the mind's un- And morn and evening give up the account. ruly

Acast. Your pardon, sweet one, I upbraid you

not; Enter POLYDORE.

Or if I would, you are so good, I could not. Good-morning, Polydore.

Though I'm deceived, or you are more fair toe Pol. Heaven keep your lordship.

day;

Mon. I come,

For beauty's heightened in your cheeks, and all And distant mountains, where they feed their Your charms seem up, and ready in your eyes.

flocks, Mon. The little share I have's so very mean, The happy shepherds leave their homely huts, That it may easily admit addition ;

And with their pipes proclaim the new-born day, Though you, my lord, should most of all beware The lusty swain comes with his well-filled scrip To give it too much praise, and make me proud. Of healthful viands, which, when hunger calls, Acast. Proud of an old man's praises ? no, With much content and appetite he eats, Monimia!

To follow in the fields his daily toil, But if my prayers can work thee any good, And dress the grateful glebe, that yields him Thou shalt not want the largest share of them.

fruits. Heard you no noise to-night?

The beasts, that under the warm hedges slept, Mon. Noise! my good lord !

And weathered out the cold bleak night, are up, Acast. About midnight.

And, looking towards the neighbouring pastures, Mon. Indeed, my lord, I don't remember any.

raise Acast. You must, sure! went you early to your Their voice, and bid their fellow brutes goodrest?

morrow; Mon. About the wonted hour. Why this en- The cheerful birds too, on the tops of trees, quiry?

(Aside. Assemble all in choirs, and with their notes Acast. And went your maid to bed, too? Salute and welcome up the rising sun. Mon. My lord, I guess so;

There's no condition sure so cursed as mine! I have seldom known her disobey my orders. I'm married ! 'Sdeath! I'm sped. How like a dcast. Sure, goblins then, or fairies haunt the dog dwelling;

Looked Hercules, thus to a distaff chained !
I'll have enquiry made through all the house, Monimia ! Oh, Monimia !
But I'll find out the cause of these disorders.
Good-day to thee, Monimia-I'll to chapel.

Enter MONIMIA and MAID.

[Erit Acasto. Mon. I'll but dispatch some orders to my

I fly to my adored Castalio's arms, woman,

My wishes' lord. May every morn begin

Like this; and with our days our loves renew! Enter FLORELLA.

Now I may hope you are satisfiedAnd wait upon your lordship there.

(Looking languishingly on him. I fear the priest has played us false; if so,

Cast. I am My poor Castalio loses all for me;

Well satisfied, that thou art-OhI wonder though he made such haste to leave me;

Mon. What? speak : Was it not unkind, Florella? Surely it was ! Art thou not well, Castalio? Come, lean He scarce afforded one kind parting word, Upon my breast, and tell me where's thy pain. But went away so cold; the kiss he gave me, Cast. "'Tis here; 'tis in my head; 'tis in my Seemed the forced compliment of sated love.

heart; Would I had never married !

'Tis every where : it rages like a madness; Maid. Why?

And I most wonder how my reason holds. Mon. Methinks

Nay, wonder not, Monimia: the slave, The scene's quite altered; I am not the same; You thought you had secured within my breast, I've bound up for myself a weight of cares, Is grown a rebel, and has broke his chain, And how the burden will be borne, none knows. And now he walks there like a lord at large. A husband may be jealous, rigid, false !

Mon. Am I not then your wife, your loved And should Castalio e'er prove so to me,

Moniania? So tender is my heart, so nice my love,

I once was so, or I've most strangely dreamed. Twould ruin and distract my rest for ever. What ails my love? Maid. Madam, he's coming.

Cast. Whate'er thy dreams have been, Mon. Where, Florella? where?

Thy waking thoughts ne'er meant Castalio well. Is he returning? To my chamber lead;

No more, Moninia, of your sex's arts !
I'll meet him there; the mysteries of our love They are useless all. I am not that pliant tool,
Should be kept private as religious rites, That necessary utensil, you would make me;
From the unhallowed view of common eyes,

I know my charter better-I am man,
[Erit Mon. and Maid. Obstinate man; and will not be enslaved.

Mon. You shall not fear it: indeed my nature's
SCENE II.-A Chamber.

easy;

I'll ever live your most obedient wife !
Enter CASTALIO.

Nor ever any privilege pretend Cast. Wished morning's come ! And now upon Beyond your will: for that shall be my law: the plains

Indeed I will not. Vol. I.

A a

me

234
BRITISH DRAMA.

[OTWAY. Cast. Nay, you shall not, madam;

'Till I know all. There's meaning in that name; By yon bright heaven you shall not.' All the day I know he is thy husband : therefore trust me I'll play the tyrant, and at night forsake thee; With all the following truth! 'Till by afflictions, and continued cares,

Mon. Indeed, Chamont, I have worn thee to a homely household drudge. There's nothing in it but the fault of nature; Nay, If I have any too, thou shalt be made I'm often thus seized suddenly with grief, Subservient to my looser pleasures,

I know not why. For thou hast wronged Castalio.

Cha. You use me ill, Moniinia; Mon, No more;

And I might think, with justice, most severely Oh, kill me here, or tell me my offence !

Of this unfaithful dealing with your

brother. I'll never quit you else; but on these knees, Mon. Truly, I'm not to blame. Suppose I'm Thus follow you all day, 'till they're worn bare,

fond, And hang upon you like a drowning creature. And grieve for what as much may please another? Castalio!

Should I upbraid the dearest friend on earth Cast. Away ! last night, last night

For the first fault? You would not do so; would Mon. It was our wedding night.

you? Cast. No more; forget it.

Cha. Not, if I'd cause to think it was a friend. Mon. Why, do you then repent?

Mon. Why do you then call this unfaithful Cast. I do.

dealing? Mon. O, heaven!

I ne'er concealed my

soul from

you

before : And will you leave thus? help, help, Florella! Bear with me now, and search my wounds no [He drugs her to the door, breaks from her, farther; and erit.

For every probing pains me to the heart. Jlelp me to hold this yet loved cruel man.

Cha. "Tis sign there's danger in it, and must be Oh, my heart breaks—I'm dying. Oh-stand probed. off;

Where's your new husband? Still that thought I'll not indulge this woman's weakness; still

disturbs you? Chafed and tormented let my heart swell on, What! only answer ine with tears? Castalio! Till with its injuries it burst, and shake

Nay, now they stream; With the dire blow this prison to the earth. Cruel, unkind Castalio! Is it not so? Maid. What sad mistake has been the cause Mon. I cannot speak ! grief flows so fast upon of this?

me, Mon. Castalio! Oh! how often has he swore, It choaks, and will not let me tell the cause. Nature should change, the sun and stars grow

Oh! dark,

Cha. My Monimia, to my soul thou art dear Ere he would falsify his vows to me!

As honour to my name. Dear as the light Make haste, confusion, then; sun, lose thy light, To eyes but just restored, and healed of blindAnd stars drop dead with sorrow to the earth; For my Castalio's false.

Why wilt thou not repose within my breast Maid. Unhappy day!

The anguish, that torments thee? Mon. False as the wind, the waters, or the

Mon, Oh! I dare not. weather;

Cha. I have no friend but thee. We must Cruel as tigers o'er their trembling prey:

confide
I feel him in my breast, he tears my heart, In one another. Two unhappy orphans,
And at each sigh he drinks the gushing blood; Alas, we are, and when I see thee griere,
Must I be long in pain? [Sits down.]

Methinks, it is a part of me, that suffers.
(Exit Florella. Mon Oh, shouldst thou know the cause of my

lamenting, Enter CHAMONT.

Thou would'st despise the abject, lost Monimia; Cha. In tears, Monimia !

I am satisfied, Chamont, that thou wouldst scora Mon. Whoe'er thou art,

me; Leave me alone to my beloved despair.

No more would praise this hated beauty : but, Cha. Lift up thy eyes, and see, who comes to When in some cell distracted, as I shall be, cheer thee.

Thou seest me lie; these unregarded locks, Tell me the story of thy wrongs, and then Matted like furies' tresses; my poor limbs See, if my soul has rest, 'till thou hast justice. Chained to the ground, and, 'stead of the deMon. My brother!

lights, Cha. Yes, Monimia, if thou thinkest

Which happy lovers taste, my keeper's stripes, That I deserve the name, I am thy brother. A bed of straw, and a coarse wooden dish Mon. Oh, Castalio !

Of wretched sustenance; when thus thou seest me, Cha. Ha!

Prithee have charity and pity for me! Name me that name again! my soul's on fire Let me enjoy this thought.

ness.

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