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Who, without spleen, could see a hot-brained


Thanking a surly doctor for his sermon ?

Or a grave counsellor meet a smooth young lord,

Squeeze him by the hand, and praise his good complexion?

Pol. Courts are the places, where best manners flourish;

Where the deserving ought to rise, and fools Make shew. Why should I vex and chafe my spleen,

To see a gaudy coxcomb shine, when I
Have seen enough to soothe him in his follies,
And ride him to advantage as I please?-

Acast. Who merit, ought indeed to rise in the

But no wise man, that's honest, should expect it. What man of sense wold rack his generous mind, To practise all the base formalities

And forms of business? force a grave starched face,

When he is a very libertine in his heart?

Seem not to know this or that man in public, When privately perhaps they meet together, And lay the scene of some brave fellow's ruin ? Such things are done.

Cast. Your lordship's wrongs have been
So great, that you with justice may complain;
But suffer us, whose younger minds ne'er felt
Fortune's deceits, to court her as she's fair.
Were she a common mistress, kind to all,
Her worth would cease, and half the world grow

Acast. Go to, ye are fools, and know me not;
I've learned,

Long since, to bear. revenge, or scorn my wrongs,
According to the value of the doer.

You both would fain be great, and to that end
Desire to do things worthy your ambition.
Go to the camp, preferment's noblest mart,
Where honour ought to have the fairest play,
you'll find

Corruption, envy, discontent, and faction,
Almost in every band. How many men
Have spent their blood in their dear country's

Yet now pine under want, whilst selfish slaves, That e'en would cut their throats, whom now they fawn on,

Like deadly locusts, eat the honey up,
Which those industrious bees so hardly toiled for.
Cast. These precepts suit not with my active
Methinks I would be busy.

Pol. So would I,

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And I am at least her brother by adoption;
For you have made yourself to me a father,
And by that patent I have leave to love her.

Ser. Monimia, thou hast told me men are false,
Will flatter, feign, and make an art of love:
Is Chamont so? No, sure, he is more than man,
Something that is near divine, and truth dwells in

Acast. Thus happy, who would envy pompous power,

The luxury of courts, or wealth of cities?
Let there be joy through all the house this day!
In every room let plenty flow at large!
It is the birth-day of my royal master.
You have not visited the court, Chamont,
Since your return?

Cha. I have no business there;
I have not slavish temperance enough
To attend a favourite's heels, and watch his smiles,
Bear an ill office done me to my face,

And thank the lord, that wronged me, for his fa- | One fate surprised them, and one grave received

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Pol. And I; both would.
Acast. Away!

[To his sons.

He needs not any servants such as you.
Serve him! he merits more than man can do!
He is so good, praise cannot speak his worth;
So merciful, sure he never slept in wrath;
So just, that were he but a private man,

He could not do a wrong. How would you serve

Cast. I would serve him with my fortune here
at home,

And serve him with my person in his wars,
Watch for him, fight for him, bleed for him.

Pol. Die for him,

As every true-born loyal subject ought.


My father, with his dying breath, bequeathed
Her to my love. My mother, as she lay
Languishing by him, called me to her side,
Took me in her fainting arms, wept, and embra-
ced me :

Then pressed me close, and, as she observed my

Kissed them away. Said she, 'Chamont, my son,
'By this, and all the love I ever shewed thee,
'Be careful of Monimia; watch her youth;
'Let not her wants betray her to dishonour:
Perhaps kind heaven may raise some friend'—
Then sighed,

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Kissed me again; so blessed us, and expired.
Pardon my grief!

Acast. It speaks an honest nature.

Cha. The friend heaven raised was you; you took her up

An infant, to the desart world exposed,

Acast. Let me embrace you both. Now, by And proved another parent.

the souls

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Acast. I have not wronged her.
Cha. Far be it from my fears.
Acast. Then why this argument?

Cha. My lord, my nature's jealous, and you'l

bear it.

Acast. Go on.

Cha. Great spirits bear misfortunes hardly.
Good offices claim gratitude; and pride,
Where power is wanting, will usurp a little,
And make us, rather than be thought behind-

Pay over-price.

Acast. I cannot guess your drift;
Distrust you me?

Cha. No, but I fear her weakness
May make her pay her debt at any rate;
And, to deal freely with your lordship's goodness,
I have heard a story lately much disturbs me.

Acast. Then first charge her; and if the of-
fence be found

Within my reach, though it should touch my na-

In my own offspring, by the dear remembrance
Of thy brave father, whom my heart rejoiced in,
I would prosecute it with severest vengeance.

Cha. I thank you from my soul.
Mon. Alas my brother!


What have I done? and why do you abuse me?
My heart quakes in me; in your settled face,
And clouded brow, methinks I see my fate.
You will not kill me!

Cha. Prithee, why dost thou talk so?
Mon. Look kindly on me, then: I cannot bear
Severity; it daunts, and does amaze me.
My heart is so tender, should you charge me


I should but weep, and answer you with sobbing;
But use me gently, like a loving brother,
And search through all the secrets of my soul.

Cha. Fear nothing; I will shew myself a bro- | With different coloured rags, black, red, white, ther,

A tender, honest, and a loving brother. You have not forgot our father?

Mon. I shall never.

Cha. Then you'll remember too, he was a man,
That lived up to the standard of his honour,
And prized that jewel more than mines of wealth.
He'd not have done a shameful thing but once,
Though kept in darkness from the world, and

He could not have forgiven it to himself.
This was the only portion that he left us;
And I more glory in it, than if possest
Of all, that ever fortune threw on fools.
'Twas a large trust, and must be managed nicely.
Now, if by any chance, Monimia,

You have soiled this gem, and taken from its value,

How will you account with me?

Mon. I challenge envy,
Malice, and all the practices of hell,
To censure all the actions of my past
Unhappy life, and taint me if they can!

Cha. I'll tell thee, then; three nights ago, as I
Lay musing in my bed, all darkness round me,
A sudden damp struck to my heart, cold sweat
Dewed all my face, and trembling seized my

My bed shook under me, the curtains started,
And to my tortured fancy there appeared
The form of thee, thus beauteous as thou art;
Thy garments flowing loose, and in each hand
A wanton lover, who by turns caressed thee,
With all the freedom of unbounded pleasure.
I snatched my sword, and in the very moment
Darted it at the phantom; straight it left me.
Then rose, and called for lights, when, oh, dire

I found my weapon had the arras pierced,
Just where that famous tale was interwoven,
How the unhappy Theban slew his father.
Mon. And for this cause my virtue is suspected!
Because in dreams your fancy has been ridden,
I must be tortured waking!

Cha. Have a care!
Labour not to be justified too fast.

Hear all, and then let justice hold the scale.
What followed was the riddle, that confounds me.
Through a close lane, as I pursued my journey,
And meditating on the last night's vision,
I spied a wrinkled hag, with age grown double,
Picking dry sticks, and mumbling to herself;
Her eyes with scalding rheum were galled and

Cold palsy shook her head, her hands seemed


And o'er her crooked shoulders had she wrapped
The tattered remnant of an old striped hanging,
Which served to keep her carcase from the cold;
So there was nothing of a piece about her.
Her lower weeds were all o'er coarsely patched.


And seemed to speak variety of wretchedness.
I asked her of my way, which she informed me;
Then craved my charity, and bade me hasten
To save a sister: at that word I started!

Mon. The common cheat of beggars; every


They flock about our doors, pretend to gifts
Of prophecy, and telling fools their fortunes.
Cha. Oh! but she told me such a tale, Moni-

As in it bore great circumstance of truth:
Castalio and Polydore, my sister!

Mon. Ha!

Cha. What, altered! does your courage fail you!

Now, by my father's soul, the witch was honest.
Answer me, if thou hast not lost to them
Thy honour, at a sordid game?

Mon. I will,

I must, so hardly my misfortune loads me;
That both have offered me their loves, most true.
Cha. And 'tis as true too, they have both un-
done thee.

Mon. Though they both with earnest vows Have pressed my heart, if e'er in thought I yield


To any but Castalio

Cha. But Castalio!

Mon. Still will you cross the line of my dis-

Yes, I confess, that he has won my soul
By generous love, and honourable vows,
Which he this day appointed to complete,
And make himself by holy marriage mine.
Cha. Art thou then spotless? Hast thou still

Thy virtue white, without a blot, untainted? Mon. When I'm unchaste may Heaven reject my prayers!

Or more, to make me wretched, may you know it!
Cha, Oh, then, Monimia, art thou dearer to me
Than all the comforts, ever yet blest man.
But let not marriage bait thee to thy ruin.
Trust not a man; we are by nature false,
Dissembling, subtle, cruel, and inconstant.
When a man talks of love, with caution trust him;
But if he swears, he'll certainly deceive thee.
I charge thee, let no more Castalio soothe thee!
Avoid it, as thou wouldst preserve the peace
Of a poor brother, to whose soul thou art pre-

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Cast. Monimia, Monimia!She's gone;
And seemed to part with anger in her eyes.
I am a fool, and she has found my weakness;
She uses me already like a slave,

Fast bound in chains, to be chastised at will.
'Twas not well done to trifle with my brother;
I might have trusted him with all the secret,
Opened my silly heart, and shewn it bare.-
But then he loves her too; but not like me:
I am a doating honest slave, designed
For bondage, marriage bonds, which I have sworn
To wear. It is the only thing I e'er
Hid from his knowledge, and he'll sure forgive
The first transgression of a wretched friend,
Betrayed to love, and all its little follies. [Erit.

Enter POLYDORE and Page at the door.
Pol. Here place yourself, and watch my bro-
ther thoroughly.

If he should chance to meet Monimia, make
Just observation on each word and action;
Pass not one circumstance without remark:
Sir, 'tis your office; do it, and bring me word:

[Exit Pol.

Enter MONIMIA and CASTALIÒ. Cast. Monimia, my angel! 'twas not kind To leave me like a turtle here alone, To droop and mourn the absence of my mate. When thou art from me, every place is desert, And I, methinks, am savage and forlorn; Thy presence only 'tis can make me blest, Heal my unquiet mind, and tune my soul. Mon. Oh, the bewitching tongues of faithless men!


'Tis thus the false hyæna makes her moan, To draw the pitying traveller to her den. Your sex are so, such false dissemblers all, With sighs and plaints ye entice poor women's hearts,

And all, that pity you, are made your prey.

Cast. What means my love? Oh, how have I

This language, from the sovereign of my joys?
Stop, stop those tears, Monimia, for they fall,
Like baneful dew from a distempered sky;
I feel them chill me to my very heart.

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Mon. Oh, you are false, Castalio, most forsworn!

Attempt no farther to delude my faith;
My heart is fixed, and you shall shake it no more.
Cast. Who told you so? What ill-bred villain

Profane the sacred business of my love?

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Mon. And was your love so very tame, to shrink?

Or, rather than lose him, abandon me?

Cast. I, knowing him precipitate and rash, To calm his heat, and to conceal my happiness, Seemed to comply with his unruly will; Talked as he talked, and granted all he asked; Lest he in rage might have our loves betrayed, And I for ever had Monimia lost.

Mon. Could you then? did you? can you own it too?

'Twas poorly done, unworthy of yourself! And I can never think you meant me fair.

Cast. Is this Monimia? surely no; till now I ever thought her dove-like, soft, and kind. Who trusts his heart with woman is surely lost. You were made fair on purpose to undo us, While greedily we snatch the alluring bait, And ne'er distrust the poison, that it hides. Mon. When love ill-placed would find a means to break

Cast. It never wants pretences or excuse. Mon. Man therefore was a lord-like creature


Rough as the winds, and as inconstant too;
A lofty aspect given him for command,
Easily softened, when he would betray.
Like conquering tyrants, you our breasts invade,
While you are pleased to forage for a while;
But soon you find new conquests out, and leave
The ravaged province ruinate and waste.
If so, Castalio, you have served my heart,
I find that desolation is settled there,
And I shall ne'er recover peace again.

Cast. Who can hear this and bear an equal mind!

Since you will drive me from you, I must go; But, oh, Monimia! When thou hast banished


No creeping slave, though tractable and dull
As artful woman for her ends would choose,
Shall ever doat as I have done : for, oh!

No tongue my pleasure nor my pain can tell,
'Tis heaven to have thee, and without thee hell.

Mon. Castalio, stay! we must not part. I find My rage ebbs out, and love flows in apace. These little quarrels, love must needs forgive, They rouse up drowsy thoughts, and wake the soul.

Oh! charm me with the music of thy tongue! I'm ne'er so blest, as when I hear thy vows, And listen to the language of thy heart.

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Pol. WERE they so kind? Express it to me all In words; 'twill make me think I saw it too. Page. At first I thought they had been mortal foes;

Monimia raged, Castalio grew disturbed; Each thought the other wronged; yet both so haughty,

They scorned submission: though love all the while

The rebel played, and scarce could be contained. Pol. But what succeeded?

Page. Oh, 'twas wondrous pretty! For, of a sudden, all the storm was past, A gentle calm of love succeeded it; Monimia sighed and blushed, Castalio swore; As you, my lord, I well remember, did To my young sister, in the orange grove, When I was first preferred to be your page. Pol. Happy Castalio! Now, by my great soul, My ambitious soul, that languishes for glory, I'll have her yet, by my best hopes I will! She shall be mine, in spite of all her arts. But for Castalio why was I refused? Has he supplanted me by some foul play? Traduced my honour? Death! he durst not do it. It must be so we parted, and he met her, Half to compliance brought by me; surprised Her sinking virtue, till she yielded quite. So poachers basely pick up tired game, While the fair hunter is cheated of his prey. Boy!

Page. My lord!

Pol. Go to your chamber, and prepare your lute:

Find out some song to please me, that describes Women's hypocrisies, their subtle wiles, Betraying smiles, feigned tears, inconstancies; Their painted outsides, and corrupted minds; The sum of all their follies, and their falsehoods.

Enter Servant.

His eyes distorted grew; his visage pale;
His speech forsook him; life itself seemed fled,
And all his friends are waiting now about him.

Enter ACASTO, leaning on two.

Acast. Support me; give me air; I'll yet reco


'Twas but a slip decaying nature made;
For she grows weary near her journey's end.
Where are my sons? Come near, my Polydore;
Your brother; where's Castalio?"

Serv. My lord,

I've searched, as you commanded, all the house; He and Monimia are not to be found.

Acust. Not to be found! then where are all my friends? 'Tis well;

I hope they'll pardon an unhappy fault
My unmannerly infirmity has made!
Death could not come in a more welcome hour;
For I'm prepared to meet him, and, methinks,
Would live and die with all my friends about me.


Cust. Angels preserve my dearest father's life, Bless it with long uninterrupted days! Oh, may he live till time itself decay, 'Till good men wish him dead, or I offend him! Acast. Thank you, Castalio; give me both your hands,

And bear me up; I'd walk.-So, now, methinks,
I appear as great as Hercules himself,
Supported by the pillars he had raised.

Cast: My lord, your chaplain.
Acast. Let the good man enter.

Enter Chaplain.

Chap. Heaven guard your lordship, and restore
your health.

Acast. I have provided for thee, if I die.
No fawning! 'tis a scandal to thy office.
My sons, as thus united ever live;
And for the estate you'll find, when I am dead,
I have divided it betwixt you both,
Equally parted, as you shared my love;

Serv. Oh, the unhappiest tidings tongue e'er Only to sweet Monimia I have bequeathed


Pol. The matter!

Serv. Oh! your father, my good master, As with his guests he sat, in mirth raised high, And chased the goblet round the joyful board, A sudden trembling seized on all his limbs;

Ten thousand crowns; a little portion for her,
To wed her honourably as she's born.

Be not less friends because you are brothers; shun

The man that's singular; his mind's unsound, His spleen o'erweighs his brains; but, above all,

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