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Mon. I never see you now; you have been | The pleasure, not the pangs of his desire. kinder,

Sat by my bed, and sung me pretty songs;
Perhaps I've been ungrateful. Here's money for

you:

Will you oblige me? Shall I see you oftener?

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 ashamed to see your swelling breasts,
It makes me blush, they are so very white.
Mon. Oh, men for flattery and deceit re-
nowned !

Thus, when ye are young, ye learn it all, like him,
Till as your years increase, that strengthens too,
To undo poor 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 talked of me?
Page. Oh, madam, very wickedly they have
talked !

But I am afraid to name it; for, they say,
Boys must be whipped, that tell their masters' se-

crets.

Mon. Fear not, Cordelio; it shall ne'er be
known;

For I'll preserve the secret as 'twere mine.
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;
For he was never half so kind as you are.
What must I do?

Mon. Inform me how thou hast heard
Castalio, and his brother, use my name.

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 resolved-
Mon. What, good Cordelio?

Page. Not to quarrel for you.

Mon. I would not have them; by my dearest
hope,

I would not be the argument of strife.
But surely my Castalio wont forsake me,
And make a mockery of my easy love.
Went they together?

Page. Yes, to seek you, madam.
Castalio promised Polydore to bring him
Where he alone might meet you,
And fairly try the fortune of his wishes.

Mon. Am I then grown so cheap, just to be
made

A common stake, a prize for love in jest?
Was not Castalio very loth to yield it?
Or was it Polydore's unruly passion,
That heightened the debate?

Page. The fault was Polydore's.

Castalio played with love, and smiling shewed

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,
Yet want the cunning to conceal its follies?
I'll see Castalio, tax him with his falsehoods,
Be a true woman, rail, protest my wrongs;
Resolve to hate him, and yet love him still.
Enter CASTALIO and POLYDORE.
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

To tell you something, that concerns you nearly.
I leave you, as becomes me, and withdraw.
Mon. My lord, Castalio!

Cast. Madam?

Mon. Have you purposed

To abuse me palpably? What means this usage? Why am I left with Polydore alone?

Cast. He best can tell you. Business of im

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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 heart 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

lent?

Desire first taught us words. Man, when created,

At first alone long wandered up and down,
Forlorn, and silent as his vassal-beasts;

But when a heaven-born maid, like you, appeared,

Strange pleasures filled his eyes, and fired his heart,

Unloosed his tongue, and his first talk was love.

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Mon. How can you labour thus for my undoing?

I must confess, indeed, I owe you more
Than ever I can hope or think to pay.

There always was a friendship 'twixt our families;
And therefore, when my tender parents died,
Whose ruined fortunes too expired with them,
Your father's pity and his bounty took me,
A poor and helpless orphan, to his care.

Pol. 'Twas heaven ordained it so, to make me happy.

Hence with this peevish virtue! 'tis a cheat,
And those, who taught it first, were hypocrites.
Come, these soft tender limbs were made for
yielding.

Mon. Here on my knees, by Heaven's blest [Kneels.

power I swear,

If you persist, I ne'er henceforth will see you,
But rather wander through the world a beggar,
And live on sordid scraps at proud men's doors;
For though to fortune lost, I'll still inherit
My mother's virtues, and my father's honour.
Pol. Intolerable vanity! your sex
Was never in the right! ye are always false
Or silly; even your dresses are not more
Fantastic than your appetites; you think
Of nothing twice. Opinion you have none.
To-day ye are nice, to-morrow none so free;

SCENE I.

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To cringe thus, fawn, and flatter for a pleasure,
Which beasts enjoy so very much above him?
The lusty bull ranges through all the field,
And from the herd singling his female out,
Enjoys her, and abandons her at will.
It shall be so; I'll yet possess my love;
Wait on, and watch her loose unguarded hours;
Then, when her roving thoughts have been a-
broad,

And brought in wanton wishes to her heart,
In the very minute, when her virtue nods,
I'll rush upon her in a storın of love,
Beat down her guard of honour all before me,
Surfeit on joys, till even desire grows sick;

ACT II.

A Saloon. Enter ACASTO, CASTALIO, and Po

LYDORE.

Acust. 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 monster 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
Use to cajole and sotten fools withal.
If thou hast flattery in thy nature, out with it,
Or send it to a court, for there 'twill thrive.
Pol. Why there?

Acast. Tis, next to money, current there;
To be seen daily in as many forms
As there are sorts of vanities, and men ;
The supercilious statesman has his sneer,
To soothe a poor man off with, that cant bribe

him;

The grave dull fellow of small business soothes The humourist, and will needs admire his wit.

Who, without spleen, could see a hot-brained atheist,

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
world;

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
idle.

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
service,

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
mind;
Methinks I would be busy.

Pol. So would I,

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true,

nd 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 him.

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 him?

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.

them;

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 tears,

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

Of my brave ancestors, I am truly happy!
For this be ever blest my marriage-day,
Blest be your mother's memory, that bore you;
And doubly blest be that auspicious hour,
That gave ye birth! Yes, my aspiring boys,

Ye shall have business, when your master wants you.

You cannot serve a nobler: I have served him;
In this old body yet the marks remain
Of many wounds. I have, with this tongue, pro-
claimed

His right, even in the face of rank` rebellion;
And, when a foul-mouthed traitor once profaned
His sacred name, with my good sabre drawn,
Even at the head of all his giddy rout,

I rushed, and clove the rebel to the chine.

Enter Servant.

Serv. My lord, the expected guests are just arrived.

Acast. Go you, and give them welcome and reception.

[Exeunt Castalio, Polydore, Serina, &c. Cha. My lord, I stand in need of your assist

ance

In something, that concerns my peace and honour. Acast. Spoke like the son of that brave man I loved :

So freely, friendly, we conversed together.
Whate'er it be, with confidence impart it;
Thou shalt command my fortune and my sword.
Cha. I dare not doubt your friendship, nor your
justice;

Your bounty shewn to what I hold most dear,
My orphan sister, must not be forgotten.

Acust. Prithee no more of that, it grates my

nature.

Cha. When our dear parents died, they died together,

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'll 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 behindhand, 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 offence be found

Within my reach, though it should touch my nature,

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!

[Exit.

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

roughly,

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,

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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
hidden,

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 yalue,

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
limbs.

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
omen!

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
red;

Cold palsy shook her head, her hands seemed withered,

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

yellow,

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Mon. Still will you cross the line of my dis
course!

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
preserved

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-

cious.

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