Cha. Why wilt thou rack My soul so long, Monimia? Ease me quickly; Or thou wilt run me into madness first. Mon. Could you be secret? Mon. But when I have told you, will you keep your fury Within its bonds? Will you not do some rash You would not think how hardly I've been used Cha. I will be calm-but has Castalio wronged thee? Has he already wasted all his love? What has he done? Quickly, for I'm all trembling With expectation of a horrid tale. Mon. Oh! could you think it! Mon. I fear he'll kill me. Cha. Ha! Mon. Indeed I do; he's strangely cruel to me; Which, if it last, I'm sure must break my heart. Cha. What has he done? Mon. Most barbarously used me. Nothing so kind as he, when in my arms! In thousand kisses, tender sighs and joys, Not to be thought again, the night was wasted; At dawn of day he rose, and left his conquest. But, when we met, and I, with open arms, Ran to embrace the lord of all my wishes, Oh, then! Throw him to the earth, like a dead dog despised! Lameness and leprosy, blindness and lunacy, Poverty, shame, pride, and the name of villain, Light on me, if, Castalio, I forgive thee! Mon. Nay, now, Chamont, art thou unkind as he is! Didst thou not promise me thou wouldst be calm? Keep my disgrace concealed? Why shouldst thou kill him? By all my love, this arm should do him vengeance. Yet bless him, bless him, gods! where'er he goes. Enter ACASTO. Acast. Sure some ill fate is towards me; in my house I only meet with oddness and disorder; Cha. Then you met a villain. Cha. Yes, a villain. Acast. Have a care, young soldier, How thou art too busy with Acasto's fame. Cha. Curse on thy scandalous age, friend You have been her father too [Takes Mon. by the hand. Grew sweet to sense, and lovely to the eye; Acast. You talk to me in parables, Chamont, Cha. Married her. Acast. I am sorry for it. By yon blest heaven, there's not a lord Cha. You dare not; all your family combined In one damned falsehood to outdo Castalio, Dare not deny it. Acast. How has Castalio wronged her? Cha. Ask that of him. I say, my sister's wronged: Monimia, my sister, born as high Is framing mischiefs too, for aught I know, Enter POLYdore. Pol. Monimia, weeping! So morning dews on new-blown roses lodge, Mon. Let me alone to sorrow. 'Tis a cause None ere 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 am no stranger to your dearest secret: I know your heart was never meant for me; Pol. Nay, wonder not; last night I heard I did, Monimia, and cursed the sound. Mon. Banish such fruitless hopes! Mon. Away; what meant my lord Pol. Is that a question now to be demanded? I hope Monimia was not much displeased. Mon. Was it well done to treat me like a To assault my lodging at the dead of night, Pol. By those eyes [Exit. It was the same: I spent my time much better: I tell thee, ill-natured fair one, I was posted Mon. I am, my lord, if you'll vouchsafe to To more advantage, on a pleasant hill Of springing joy, and everlasting sweetness. Pol. Where is the danger near me? Mon. I fear you are on a rock will wreck your quiet, And drown your soul in wretchedness for ever; A thousand horrid thoughts crowd on my memory. Will you be kind, and answer me one question? Pol. I'll trust thee with my life; on those soft breasts Breathe out the choicest secrets of my heart, Mon. Nay, I'll conjure you by the-gods and angels, By the honour of your name, that's most concerned, To tell me, Polydore, and tell me truly, Pol. Within thy arms I triumphed! rest had been my foe. [She faints. Let mischiefs multiply! Let every hour And grow a curser of the works of nature! Mon. Oh, Polydore, if all The friendship e'er you vowed to good Castalio As I am, in possession of thy sweetness? Pol. What says Monimia! ha! Speak that again. Mon. I am Castalio's wife. Pol. His married, wedded wife? Saw it performed. Pol. And then, have I enjoyed My brother's wife? Mon. As surely as we both Must taste of misery, that guilt is thine. Pol. Oh! thou mayst yet be happy. Happy, with such a weight upon thy soul? SCENE I.-A Garden. Pol. It may be yet a secret; I'll go try Of added sins upon my wretched head. Pol. Nay, then, Let us embrace, and from this very moment Mon. And wilt thou be a very faithful wretch? Pol. We'll institute new arts, unknown before, To vary plagues, and make them look like new ones. First, if the fruit of our detested joy, A child, be born, it shall be murdered- Mon. To become a thing More wretched than its parents, to be branded With all our infamy, and curse its birth. Pol. That's well contrived. Then thus I'll go, Full of my guilt, distracted where to roam, dise. I'll find some place, where adders nest in winter, ACT V. CASTALIO lying on the ground.-Soft music. Come, all ye youths, whose hearts e'er bled Let none his sorrows hide: And see, when your complaints ye join, The happiest mortal once was I; [Exeunt. Though bright as heaven, whose stamp she bears, See, where the deer trot after one another, Acast. No, not much. But Wildness and freedom, pleasant springs, fresh herbage, Calm arbours, lusty health and innocence, Enjoy their portion; if they see a man, How will they turn together all, and gaze Upon the monster Once in a season too they taste of love: Only the beast of reason is its slave, And in that folly drudges all the year. Enter ACASTO. Acast. Castalio! Castalio! Cast. Who's there So wretched but to name Castalio? Acast. I hope my message may succeed! Tis joy to see you, though where sorrow's nourished. Acast. I'm come in beauty's cause; you'll guess the rest. Cast. A woman! If you love my peace of mind, Name not a woman to me; but to think Cast. A woman is the thing 1 would forget, and blot from my remembrance. Acast. Forget Monimia! Cast. She, to chuse: Monimia ! The very sound's ungrateful to my sense. Acast. This might seem strange, but you, I've found, will hide Your heart from me; you dare not trust your father. Cast. No more Monimia. Cast. So much the worse; who loves to hear of wife? When you would give all worldly plagues a name, Acast. Castalio, you must go along with me, And see Monimia. Cast. Sure my lord but mocks me. Go see Monimia! Pray, my lord, excuse me, Acast. I say, no more dispute. Complaints are made to me, that you have wronged her. Cast. Who has complained? Cha. Where is the hero, famous and renowned For wronging innocence and breaking vows? Whose mighty spirit, and whose stubborn heart, No woman can appease, nor man provoke ? Acast. I guess, Chamont, you come to seek Castalio. Cha. I come to seek the husband of Monimia. Cast. The slave is here. Cha. I thought ere now to have found you Atoning for the ills you have done Chamont; For you have wronged the dearest part of him. Monimia, young lord, weeps in this heart; And all the tears, thy injuries have drawn From her poor eyes, are drops of blood from hence. Cast. Then you are Chamont? Cast. I have heard of such a man, Cha. Thus I'll thank you. you, -For [To Cha. Young soldier, I must tell you, you have wronged me. Acast. Her brother, to my face, proclaimed her I promised you to do Monimia right, wronged, And in such terms they have warmed me. Cast. What terms? Her brother! Heaven! Where learned she that? What! does she send her hero with defiance? He durst not sure affront you! And thought my word a pledge, I would not for Oppose not then the justice of my sword, Because thou knowest that place is sanctified Cast. I am a villain, if I will not seek thee, Thy father's honour's not above Monimia's; Acast. Boy, don't disturb the ashes of the dead With thy capricious follies. The remembrance Of the loved creature, that once filled these Sheath up thy angry sword, and don't affright me. Cast. Sir, if you'd have me think you did not take This opportunity to shew your vanity, Farewell: I wish much happiness attend you. Ser. Chamont's the dearest thing I have on earth; Give me Chamont, and let the world forsake me. Cha. Witness the gods, how happy I'm in thee! No beauteous blossom of the fragrant spring, Though the fair child of nature, newly born, Can be so lovely. Angry, unkind Castalio, Suppose I should a while lay by my passions, And be a beggar in Monimia's cause, Might I be heard? Cast. Sir, 'twas my last request, You would, though I find you will not be satisfied; So, in a word, Monimia is my scorn; Flor. Oh, shew me quickly, where's Castalio! Acast. What's the matter? Flor. Hurried by despair, She flies with fury over all the house, Cast. Ha! will she? Does she name Castalio? And with such tenderness? Conduct me quickly To the poor lovely mourner. Oh, my father! Acast. Then wilt thou go? Blessings attend thy purpose. ! Cast. I cannot hear Monimia's soul's in sadness, And be a man; my heart will not forgot her; But do not tell the world you saw this of me. |