I've search'd, as you commanded, all the house;

He and Monimia are not to be found.

Acast. 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 prepar'd to meet him, and, methinks,
Would live and die with all my friends about me.

Enter CASTALIO and MONIMIA.

Cast. Angels preserve my dearest father's life, Bless it with long uninterupted days!

Oh, may he live till time itself decay,

'Till good men wish him dead, or I offend him!

60

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 rais’d.

Cast. My lord, your chaplain.

Acast. Let the good man enter.

Enter Chaplain.

Chap. Heav'n 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 th' estate you'll find when I am dead,

I have divided it betwixt you both,

Equally parted, as you shar'd my love;
Only to sweet Monimia I've bequeath'd
Ten thousand crowns; a little portion for her,
To wed her honourably as she's born.

80

Be not less friends because you're brothers; "shun "The man that's singular, his mind's unsound, "His spleen o'erweighs his brains; but above all, "Avoid the politic, the factious fool,

"The busy, buzzing, talking, harden'd knave, "The quaint smooth rogue, that sins against his rea

"Calls saucy loud suspicion, public zeal,

"And mutiny, the dictates of his spirit:
"Be very careful how you make new friends.
"Men read not morals now: 'twas a custom :
"But all are to their father's vices born;
"And in their mother's ignorance are bred.
"Let marriage be the last mad thing you do,
"For all the sins and follies of the past.

"If you have children, never give them knowledge,
""Twill spoil their fortune; fools are all the fashion;
"If you've religion, keep it to yourselves;
"Atheists will else make use of toleration,

"And laugh you out on't. Never shew religion, "Except you mean to pass for knaves of conscience, "And cheat believing fools that think ye honest.”

Enter SERINA.

Ser. My father!

E

100

Acast. My heart's darling!

Ser. Let my knees

Fix to the earth. Ne'er let my eyes have rest,
But wake and weep, till Heaven restore my father.
Acast. Rise to my arms, and thy kind pray'rs are
answer'd.

For thou'rt a wond'rous extract of all goodness,
Born for my joy,, and no pain's felt when near thee.
Chamont!

Enter CHAMONT.

Cha. My Lord, may't prove not an unlucky omen. Many I see are waiting round about you,

And I am come to ask a blessing too!
Acast. May'st thou be happy!

Cha. Where?

Acast. In all thy wishes.

Cha. Confirm me so, and make this fair one mine;

I am unpractis'd in the trade of courtship,

And know not how to deal love out with art:
Onsets in love seem best like those in war,
Fierce, resolute, and done with all the force;
So I would open my whole heart at once,
And pour out the abundance of my soul.

120

Acast. What says Serina? Canst thou love a soldier ?

One born to honour, and to honour bred?

One that has learn'd to treat e'en foes with kindness To wrong no good man's fame, nor praise himself? Ser. Oh! name not love, for that's ally'd to joy, And joy must be a stranger to my heart,

When you're in danger. May Chamont's good fortune
Render him lovely to some happier maid!
Whilst I at friendly distance see him blest,

Praise the kind gods, and wonder at his virtues.
Acast. Chamont, pursue her, conquer and possess
her,

And, as my son, a third of all my fortune

Shall be thy lot.

But keep thy eyes from wand'ring, man of frailty.
Beware the dangerous beauty of the wanton;
Shun their enticements; ruin like a vulture
Waits on their conquests: falsehood too's their busi-
ness,

They put false beauty off to all the world,

Use false endearments to the fools that love 'em, 140
And when they marry, to their silly husbands,
They bring false virtue, broken fame and fortune.
Mon. Hear ye that, my Lord?

Pol. Yes, my fair monitor, old men always talk thus. Acast. Chamont, you told me of some doubts that press'd you,

Are you yet satisfy'd that I'm your friend?

Cha. My lord, I would not lose that satisfaction For any blessing I could wish for.

As to my fears, already I have lost 'em;

They ne'er shall vex me more, nor trouble you. Acast. I thank you. Daughter you must do so too. My friends, 'tis late;

Now

my disorder seems all past and over, And, I, methinks, begin to feel new health.

Cast. Would you but rest, it might restore you quite. Acast. Yes, I'll to bed; old men must humour

weakness:

Let me have music then, to lull and chase
This melancholy thought of death away.

Good-night, my friends; Heav'n guard ye all! goodnight!

To-morrow early we'll salute the day,

Find out new pleasures, and redeem lost time.

160

[Exeunt all but Chamont and Chaplain.

Cha. Hist, hist, Sir Gravity, a word with you.

Chap. With me, sir!

Cha. If you're at leisure, sir, we'll waste an hour.

'Tis yet too soon to sleep, and 'twill be charity

To lend your conversation to a stranger.
Chap. Sir, you're a soldier ?

Cha. Yes.

Chap. I love a soldier.

And had been one myself, but that my parents Would make me what you see me: yet I'm honest, For all I wear black.

Cha. And that's a wonder.

Have you had long dependence on this family?

Chap. I have not thought it so, because my time's Spent pleasantly. My lord's not haughty nor imperious,

Nor I gravely whimsical; he has good-nature,
And I have manners.

His sons too are civil to me, because

I do not pretend to be wiser than they are.

180