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} his sons.
CHAMONT, a young soldier of fortune, brother to MONIMIA, the Orphan, left under the guardian
ship of old Acasto.
SERINA, Acasto's daughter.
FLORELLA, Monimia's woman.
Enter PAULINO and ERNESTO. Paul. Tis strange, Ernesto, this severity Should still reign powerful in Acasto's mind, To hate the court, where he was bred and lived, All honours heaped on him, that power could give.
Ern. Tis true, he hither came a private gentleman,
But young and brave, and of a family
Paul. It was his virtue at first made me serve him;
He is the best of masters and of friends:
Ern. Has he not reason? When, for what he
Long, hard, and painful toil, he might have claimed
Paul. Yet still he holds just value for the king, Nor ever names him but with highest reverence. 'Tis noble that.
Ern, Oh! I have heard him wanton in his praise,
Speak things of him might charm the ears of envy.
Paul. Oh, may he live, till Nature's self grows old,
And from her womb no more can bless the earth!
Ern. No; he has two sons, that were ordained to be
As well his virtues' as his fortune's heirs.
Paul. They're both of nature mild, and full of
They came twins from the womb, and still they live,
As if they would go twins, too, to the grave:
Ern. Never was parent in an offspring happier;
Ile has a daughter too, whose blooming age
Paul. And as there is a friendship 'twixt the brethren,
So has her infant nature chosen too
A faithful partner of her thoughts and wishes, And kind companion of her harmless pleasures. Ern. You mean the beauteous orphan, fair Monimia.
Paul. The same, the daughter of the brave Chamont;
He was our lord's companion in the wars; Where such a wondrous friendship grew between them,
As only death could end. Chamont's estate
To seek a fortune, or a noble fate;
'Tis daily their petition to their father,
Paul. Oh, that's a royal sport! We yet may see the old man in a morning, Lusty as health, come ruddy to the field, And there pursue the chase, as if he meant To o'ertake time, and bring back youth again. Exeunt.
SCENE II-A Garden.
Enter CASTALIO, POLYDORE, and Page. Cast. Polydore, our sport
Has been to-day much better for the danger; When, on the brink, the foaming boar I met, And in his side thought to have lodged my spear, The desperate savage rushed within my force, And bore me headlong with him down the rock, Pol. But then
Cast. Ay, then, my brother, my friend, Polydore,
Like Perseus mounted on his winged steed, Came on, and down the dangerous precipice leap'd, To save Castalio. 'Twas a godlike act!
Pol. But, when I came, I found you conqueror. Oh, my heart danced to see your danger past! The heat and fury of the chase was cold, And I had nothing in my mind but joy.
Cast. So, Polydore, methinks, we might in war Rush on together; thou shouldst be my guard, And I be thine; what is it could hurt us then? Now half the youth of Europe are in arms, How fulsome must it be to stay behind, And die of rank diseases here at home?
Pol, No! let me purchase in my youth re
To make me loved and valued, when I am old;
Has taken himself a surfeit of the world,
Pol. Castalio, I have doubts within my heart,
Pol. Nay, I'll conjure you too,
By all the strictest bonds of faithful friendship,
Pol. And should I chance to touch it nearly,
With all the sufferance of a tender friend.
Pol. No more, I've done.
Cast. Why not?
Pol. I told you I had done :
But you, Castalio, would dispute it.
Not with my Polydore; though I must own
Pol. Yet you will break this friendship.
Pol. But for a toy you would, a woman's toy; Unjust Castalio!
Cast. Prithee, where's my fault?
Pol. You love Monimia.
Whose chance it prove; but let's not quarrel for it.
Pol. You would not wed Monimia, would you?
No; were she all desire could wish, as fair
She should not cheat me of my freedom. Marry!
And take a wife to mortify withal.
Pol. It is an elder brother's duty so
To propagate his family and name :
You would not have yours die and buried with you?
Cast. Mere vanity, and silly dotage all. No, let me live at large, and when I die
Pol. Who shall possess the estate you leave?
If he survives me; if not, my king,
Who may bestow it again on some brave man,
Cast. By yon heaven, I love
My Polydore beyond all worldly joys;
Cast. No matter whose.
Pol. Were you not with her privately last night?
Cast. I was, and should have met her here again;
But the opportunity shall now be thine;
Mon. So soon returned from hunting? This fair day
Seems as if sent to invite the world abroad.
Mon. Sure some ill fate's upon me.
Mon. I never see you now; you have been kinder,
Sat by my bed, and sung me pretty songs; Perhaps I've been ungrateful. Here's money for
Will you oblige me? Shall I see you oftener?
Page. Madam, I'd serve you with my soul:
Thus, when ye are young, ye learn it all, like him,
But I am afraid to name it; for, they say,
Mon. Fear not, Cordelio; it shall ne'er be
For I'll preserve the secret as 'twere mine.
I'll furnish thee with all thy harmless sports,
Mon. Inform me how thou hast heard
Page. With all the tenderness of love; You were the subject of their last discourse. At first I thought it would have fatal proved; But as the one grew hot, the other cooled, And yielded to the frailty of his friend; At last, after much struggling, 'twas resolvedMon. What, good Cordelio?
Page. Not to quarrel for you.
Mon. I would not have them; by my dearest
I would not be the argument of strife.
Page. Yes, to seek you, madam.
Mon. Am I then grown so cheap, just to be made
A common stake, a prize for love in jest?
Page. The fault was Polydore's.
Castalio played with love, and smiling shewed
| The pleasure, not the pangs of his desire. He said, no woman's smiles should buy his freedom;
And marriage is a mortifying thing.
Mon. Then I am ruined! If Castalio's false, Where is there faith and honour to be found? Ye gods, that guard the innocent, and guide The weak, protect, and take me to your care. Oh, but I love him! There's the rock will wreck me!
Why was I made with all my sex's softness,
He comes, the conqueror comes! lie still, my heart,
And learn to bear thy injuries with scorn.
Cast. Madam, my brother begs he may have
To tell you something, that concerns you nearly.
Mon. Have you purposed
To abuse me palpably? What means this usage? Why am I left with Polydore alone?
Cust. He best can tell you. Business of im
Calls me away; I must attend my father.
Cast. But for a moment.
Mon. It has been otherwise; the time has
When business might have staid, and I been heard.
Cast. I could for ever hear thee; but this time Matters of such odd circumstances press me, That I must go [Exit.
Mon. Then go, and, if it be possible, for ever. Well, my lord Polydore, I guess your business, And read the ill-natured purpose in your eyes.
Pol. If to desire you more than misers wealth, Or dying men an hour of added life; If softest wishes, and a héart more true Than ever suffered yet for love disdained, Speak an ill nature, you accuse me justly. Mon. Talk not of love, my lord! I must not hear it.
Pol. Who can behold such beauty and be si
Mon. The first created pair indeed were blessed;
They were the only objects of each other,
A thousand more, why need you talk to me?
On those dear eyes; for every glance they send Darts through my soul, and almost gives enjoy
Mon. How can you labour thus for my undoing?
I must confess, indeed, I owe you more
Pol. 'Twas heaven ordained it so, to make me happy.
Hence with this peevish virtue! 'tis a cheat,
Mon. Here on my knees, by Heaven's blest [Kneels.
power I swear,
If you persist, I ne'er henceforth will see you,
Pol. Intolerable vanity! your sex
To cringe thus, fawn, and flatter for a pleasure,
And brought in wanton wishes to her heart,
A Saloon. Enter ACASTO, CASTALIO, and Po
Acast. To-DAY has been a day of glorious sport. When you, Castalio, and your brother left me, Forth from the thickets rushed another boar, So large, he seemed the tyrant of the woods, With all his dreadful bristles raised up high, They seemed a grove of spears upon his back; Foaming, he came at me, where I was posted, Best to observe which way he'd lead the chase, Whetting his huge large tusks, and gaping wide, As if he already had me for his prey; Till brandishing my well-poised javelin high, With this bold executing arm, I struck The ugly, brindled mouster to the heart.
Then, by long absence, liberty regain, And quite forget the pleasure and the pain. [Exeunt Pol. and Page,
Cast. The actions of your life were always wondrous.
Acast. No flattery, boy! an honest man cant live by it;
It is a little sneaking art, which knaves
Acast. Tis, next to money, current there;
As there are sorts of vanities, and men ;
The grave dull fellow of small business soothes The humourist, and will needs admire his wit.