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Urge all thy pow'rs to make thy passion prosper :
Pol. Heaven blast me if I do.
Cast. If't prove thy fortune, Polydore, to conquer, (For thou hast all the arts of soft persuasion) Trust me, and let me know thy love's success, That I may ever after stifle mine.
Pol. Though she be dearer to my soul than rest
For if ye pow'rs have happiness in store,
[Exeunt Castalio and Polydore.
Mon. So soon return'd from hunting? This fair day Seems
aş if sent to invite the world abroad. Pass'd not Castalio and Polydore this way?
Page. Madam, just now.
Mon. Sure some ill fate's upon me. Distrust and heaviness sit round my heart, And apprehension shocks my timorous soul. Why was not I laid in my peaceful grave With
my poor parents, and at rest as they are ? Instead of that, I'm wand'ring into cares. Castalio! Oh, Castalio! thou hast caught
My foolish heart; and, like a tender child,
Page. Why, madam, have I done you any wrong?
Mon. I never see you now; you have been kinder? Sat by my bed, and sung me pretty songs; 241 Perhaps I've been ungrateful. Here's money for you: Will you oblige me? Shall I see you oft'ner?
Page. Madam, I'd serve you with my soul: “ But in the morning when you call me to you, “ As by your bed I stand, and tell you stories, «« I am asham'd to see your swelling breasts, “ It makes me blush, they are so very white.
“ Mon. Oh, men! for fiatt’ry and deceit renown'd! “ Thus, when y'are young, ye learn it all like him, “ 'Till as your years increase, that strengthens too, “ T’undo pour maids, and make our ruin easy." Tell me, Cordelio, for thou oft hast heard Their friendly converse, and their bosom secrets; Sometimes, at least, have they not talk'd of me?
Page. Oh, madam, very wickedly they have talk'd! But I am afraid to name it; for, they say, Boys must be whipp'd that tell their master's secrets.
Mon. Fear not, Cordelio ; it shall ne'er be known; For I'll preserve the secret as 'twere mine. 260 Polydore cannot be so kind as I. I'll furnish thee with all thy harmless sports, With pretty toys, and thou shalt be my page.
Page. And truly, madam, I had rather be so.
Methinks you love me better than my lord ;
Mon. Inform me how thou'st heard
Page. With all the tenderness of love;
Mon. What, good Cordelio ?
Mon. I would not have 'em; by my dearest hope,
Page. Yes, to seek you, madam.
Mam. Am I then grown so cheap, just to be made
Page. The fault was Polydore's.
He said, no woman's smiles should buy his freedom; And marriage is a mortifying thing.
Mon. Then I am ruin'd, 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. 300 Oh, but I love him! There's the rock will wreck me! Why was I made with all my sex's softness, Yet want the cunning to conceal its follies ? I'll see Castalio, tax him with his falshoods, Be a true woman, rail, protest my wrongs; Resolve to hate him, and yet love him still.
Enter CASTALIO and POLYDORE alone. 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 leave
Mon. My lord, Castalio!
Mon. Have you purpos'd
Cast. He best can tell you. Business of importance Calls me away; I must attend my father.
Mon. Will you then leave me thus ?
320 Mon. It has been otherwise ; the time has been, 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
Pol. If to desire you more than misers wealth,
Mon. Talk not of love, my Lord, I must not hear it.
Pol. Who can behold such beauty and be silent ? Desire first taught us words. Man, when created, At first alone long wander'd up and down, Forlorn, and silent as his vassal-beasts; But when a heav'n-born maid, like you, appear'd, Strange pleasures fill'd his eyes, and fir'd his heart, 340 Unloos’d his tongue, and his first talk was love.
Mon. The first created pair indeed were bless'd ; They were the only objects of each other, Therefore he courted her, and her alone: But in this peopled world of beauty, where There's roving room, where you may court, and ruin A thousand more, why need you talk to me?
Pol. Oh! I could talk to thee for ever. Thus Eternally admiring, fix and gaze On those dear eyes; for every glance they send Darts through my soul, and almost gives enjoyment. Man. How can you labour thus for my undoing ?