« EelmineJätka »
To tell me, Polydore, and tell me truly,
Pol. Within thy arms
I triumphed! rest had been my foe.
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.
Men. 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.
I'll find some place, where adders nest in winter,
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; My heart no sorrows knew ; Pity the pain with which I die,
But ask not whence it grew. Yet if a tempting fair you find, That's very lovely, very kind,
Though bright as heaven, whose stamp she bears,
Sce, where the deer trot after one another,
Acast. No, not much.
Wildness and freedom, pleasant springs, fresh
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.
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
I would forget, and blot from my remembrance.
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, Worse than they have already, call them wife: But a new-married wife's a teeming mischief, Full of herself! Why, what a deal of horror Has that poor wretch to come, that wedded yesterday!
Acast. Castalio, you must go along with me, And see Monimia.
Cust. 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
Cha. I come to seek the husband of Monimia.
Cha. I thought ere now to have found you
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.
[Draws. Acast. By this good sword, who first presumes
Acast. Her brother, to my face, proclaimed her I promised you to do Monimia right,
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 forfeit:
But you, I find, would fright us to performance. Cast. Sir, in my younger years, with care you
That brave revenge was due to injured honour;
Oppose not then the justice of my sword,
Because thou knowest that place is sanctified
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,
Let's meet some other time, when by ourselves
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 satisfi
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.
Acast. Delay not then, but haste and cheer thy love.
Cast. Oh! I will throw my impatient arms about her,
In her soft bosom sigh my soul to peace,
A Chamber. Enter MONIMIA. Mon. Stand off, and give me room! I will not rest till I have found Castalio, My wishes' lord, comely as the rising day, Amidst ten thousand eminently known! Flowers spring up where'er he treads; his eyes, Fountains of brightness, cheering all about him! When will they shine on me?-Oh, stay my soul! I cannot die in peace till I have seen him.
Cast. Who talks of dying with a voice so sweet, That life's in love with it?
Mon. Hark! 'tis he that answers.
Cast. [Entering.] Here, my love.
Mon. Could'st thou but forgive me-
Mon. For my fault last night: alas, thou can'st not!
Cast. I can, and do.
Mon. Thus crawling on the earth, Would I that pardon meet; the only thing Can make me view the face of heaven with hope. Cast. Then, let's draw near. Mon. Ah, me!
Cast. So, in the fields,
When the destroyer has been out for prey,
Murmuring love, and joy their fears are over. Mon. Yet, have a care; be not too fond of peace,
Lest, in pursuance of the goodly quarry,
What danger threatens me, and where it lies :
Cast. Have I been in a dream, then, all this As might have moved the hardest heart; why
And art thou but the shadow of Monimia?
Why dost thou fly me thus?
Mon. Oh, were it possible, that we could drown In dark oblivion but a few past hours, We might be happy.
Cast. Is it 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.
What shall I do to be enough thy slave,
Mon. If I am dumb, Castalio, and want words
Just as thy poor heart thinks! Have not I wronged thee?
Mon. Still thou wander'st in the dark, Castalio; But wilt, ere long, stumble on horrid danger. Cast. What means my love?
What dost thou mean by horror and forbearance
Cast. If, labouring in the pangs of death, Thou wouldst do any thing to give me ease, Unfold this riddle ere my thoughts grow wild, And let in fears of ugly form upon me.
Mon. My heart won't let me speak it; but remember,
Monimia, poor Monimia, tells you this,
Cast. What means my destiny?
For all my good or evil fate dwells in thee!
Mon. No, never.
Cust. Where's the power
On earth, that dare not look like thee, and say so?
Thou art my heart's inheritance; I served
And who shall rob me of the dear bought blessing?
Mon. Time will clear all; but now, let this content you.
Heaven has decreed, and therefore I'm resolved
In some far distant country waste my life,
Cast. Where am I? Sure I wander amidst enchantment,
And never more shall find the way to rest;
Why turnest thou from me? I am alone already;
Where all the treasure of my soul's embarked. Wilt thou not turn? Oh! could those eyes but speak,
I should know all, for love is pregnant in them;
Mon. Ah, poor Castalio!
She pities me! then thou wilt go eternally.
With me? Think me but dead, and lay me so.
Pol. To live, and live a torment to myself, What dog would bear it, that knew but his condition?
We have little knowledge, and that makes us cowards,
Because it cannot tell us what's to come.
Cast. Who's there?
Pol. Why, what art thou?
Cast. My brother Polydore?
Cast. Of my Monimia !
Pol. No. Good-day.
Cast. In haste!
Methinks my Polydore appears in sadness,
Pol. Indeed, and so to me does my Castalio. Cast. Do I?
Pol. Thou dost.
Cast. Alas, I have wond'rous reason!
I am strangely altered, brother, since I saw thee. Pol. Why!
Cast. Oh! to tell thee, would but put thy heart
To pain. Let me embrace thee but a little,
Within thy friendly bosom all my follies;
Cast. Why dost thou ask me that? Does this
Like a false friendship, when, with open arms,
Pol. I fear, Castalio, I have none to give thee.
I never had a thought of my Castalio,
Hast thou dealt so by me?
Pol. Then tell me why this mourning, this dis-
Cast. Oh, Polydore, I know not how to tell
Shame rises in my face, and interrupts
Pol. I grieve, my friend
Knows any thing, which he is ashamed to tell me ; Or didst thou e'er conceal thy thoughts from Polydore?
Cast. Oh, much too oft!
By all the kind affection of a brother,
Pol. Well, go on.
Cast. Our destiny contrived
To plague us both with one unhappy love.
Pol. A fault! when thou hast heard The tale I tell, what wilt thou call it then? Cast. How my heart throbs!
Pol. First for thy friendship, traitor,
I cancel it thus; after this day, I'll ne'er
Cast. What will my fate do with me?
Pol. Perjured, treacherous wretch, Farewell!
Cast. I'll be thy slave, and thou shalt use me Just as thou wilt, do but forgive me.