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Mon. Let me alone to sorrow; 'tis a cause Mon. Yesterday's sun None e'er shall know; but it shall with me Saw it perform’d? die.
Pol. My brother's wife? Pol. Happy, Monimia, he to whom these Mon. As surely as we both sighs,
(paid! Must taste of misery, that guilt is thine. These tears, and all these languishings, cre Pol. Oh! thou may'st yet be happy! I know your heart was never meant for me; Mon. Couldst thou be That jewel's for an elder brother's price. Happy, with such a weight upon thy soul?
Mon. My lord! Pol. Nay, wonder not; last night I heard To reconcile and bring Castalio to thee! His oaths, your vows, and to my torment saw Whilst from the world I take myself away, Your wild embraces; heard the appointment And waste my life in penance for my sin. made;
Mon. Then thou wouldst more undo me : I did, Monimia, and I curs'd the sound.
heap a load Wilt thou be sworn, my love? wilt thou be Of added sin upon my wretched head ! Unkind again?
(ne'er Wouldst thou again have me betray thy broMon. Banish such fruitless hopes !
(thought! Have you sworn constancy to my undoing? And bring pollution to his arms ? — Curs'd Will you be ne'er my friend again ?
Oh! when shall I be mad indeed ! (Exit. Pol. What means my love?
Pol. Then thus I'll go ;Mon. What meant my lord ?
Full of my guilt, distracted where to roam: Last night?
I'll find some place where adders nest in winPol. Is that a question now to be demanded ? ter,
(hang Mon. Was it well done
Loathsome and venomous; where poisons T assault my lodging at the dead of night, Like gums against the walls : there I'll inhaAnd threaten me if I denied admittance
bit, You said you were Castalio.
And live up to the height of desperation. Pol. By those eyes,
Desire shall languish like a with'ring flower, It was the same : I spent my time much better. Horrors shall fright me from those pleasing Mon, Ha!-have a care!
harms, Pol. Where is the danger near me ? And I'll no more be caught with beauty's Mon. I fear you're on a rock will wreck your
(Erit. quiet, And drown your soul in wretchedness for ever.
ACT V. A thousand horrid thoughts crowd on my memory
SCENE 1.- A Garden.
Castalio discovered lying on the ground; bosom
soft music. Breathe out the choicest secrets of my heart,
Cas. See where the deer trot after one Till I had nothing in it left but love. Mon. Nay, I'll conjure you, by the gods and No discontent they know; but in delightful
another : angels, By the honour of your name, that's most con- Wildness and freedom, pleasant springs, fresh cern’d,
herbage, To tell me, Polydore, and tell me truly,
Calm arbours, lusty health, and innocence, Where did you rest last night?
Enjoy their portion :-if they see a man, Pol. Within thy arms.
How will they turn together all, and gaze Mon. "Tis done.
Upon the monster ! Pol. She faints !—no help!-who waits ?– Once in a season, too, they taste of love: A curse
Only the beast of reason is its slave;
And in that folly drudges all the year.
Acus. Castalio ! Castalio!
Cas. Who's there Mon. Well
So wretched but to name Castalio ? Let mischiefs multiply! let every hour
Acas. I hope my message may succeed. Of my loath'd life yield me increase of horror!
Cas. My father!
(nourish'd. O let the sun, to these unhappy eyes,
'Tis joy to see you, though where sorrow's Ne'er shine again, but be eclips'd for ever!
Acas. Castalio, you must go along with me, May every thing I look on seem a prodigy,
And see Monimia. To fill my soul with terrors, till I quite
Cas. Sure my lord but mocks me: Forget l'ever had humanity,
Go see Monimia ? And grow a curser of the works of nature !
Acas. I say, no more dispute. Pol. What means all this?
Complaints are made to me that you have Mon. ( Polydore! if all
wrong'd her. The friendship e'er you vow'd to good Castalio
Cas. Who has complain'd ? Be not a falsehood ; if you ever lov'd
Acas. Her brother to my face proclaim'd her Your brother, you've undone yourself and me. wrong'd, Pol. Which way can ruin reach the man And in such terms they've warm’d me. that's rich
Cas. What terms? Her brother! Heaven! As I am, in possession of thy sweetness ?
Where learn'd be that? Mon. Oh! I'm his wife !
What, does she send ner hero with defiance? Pol. What says Monimia ?
He durst not sure affront you ? Mon. I am Castalio's wife!
Acas. No, not much : Pol. His married, wedded, wife?
Civs. Speak, what said he ?
Be oppress'd by thee, thou proud, imperiots Acas. That thou wert a villain : (villain.
traitor! Methinks I would not have thee thought a Cas. Ha! set me free. Cas. Shame on the ill-manner'd brute !
Cham. Come, both. Your age secur'd him ; he durst not else have Cas. Sir, if you'd have me think you did said.
not take Acas. By my sword,
(vilely : This opportunity to show your vanity, I would not see thee wrong'd, and bear it | Let's meet some other time, when by ourselves Though I have pass'd my word she shall have We fairly may dispute onr wrongs together. justice.
Cham. Till then I am Castalio's friend. Cas. Justice! to give her justice would un
[Erit. do her.
Acas. Would I'd been absent when this Think you this solitude I now have chosen,
(der'd Wish'd to have grown one piece
Came to disturb thee thus. I'm grier'd 1 hinWith this cold clay, and all without a cause ? Thy just resentment- -But, Monimia
Cas. Damn her!
Acas. Don't curse her.
Cas. Did I? nown's
Acas. Yes. For wronging innocence, and breaking vows;
Cas, I'm sorry for't. Whose mighty spirit, and whose stubborn Acas. Methinks, if, as I guess, the fault's heart,
but small, No woman can appease, nor man provoke ?
It might be pardon'd.
Acas. What has she done? Cham. I come to seek the husband of Mo- Cus. That she's my wife, may Heaven and nimia.
you forgive me. Cas. The slave is here.
Acas. Be reconcil'd then. Cham. I thought ere now to have found you
Acas. For my sake,
Cas. Why will you urge a thing my nature And all the tears thy injuries have drawn
starts at ? From her poor eyes, are drops of blood from
Acas. Pr’ythee, forgive her. hence.
Cas. Lightnings first shall blast me! Cas. Then you are Chamont ?
I tell you, were she prostrate at my feet, Cham. Yes, and I hope no stranger
Full of her sex's best dissembled sorrows To great Castalio.
And all that wondrous beauty of her own, Cas. I've heard of such a man,
My heart might break, but it should never That has been very busy with my honour.
soften, I own I'm much indebted to you, Sir,
Acas. Did you but know the agonies she And here return the villain back again
feelsYou sent me by my father.
She flies with fury over all the house; Cham. Thus I'll thank you. [Draws.
Through every room of each department, Acas. By this good sword, who first pre
crying, sumes to violence,
“Where's my Castalio ? Give me myCastalio!" Makes me his foe. [Draws and interposes. Except she sees you, sure she'll grow disCas. Sir, in my younger years with care
Cas. Ha! will she ? Does she name Castalio ? you taught me That brave revenge was due to injur'd honour:
And with such tenderness? Conduct me Oppose not then the justice of my sword,
To the poor, lovely mourner. [quickly Lest you should make me jealous of your love. Icus. Then wilt thou go? Blessings attend Cham. Into thy father's arms thou fly'st for
thy purpose ! safety,
Cas. I cannot hear Monimia's soul's in sad. Because thou know'st that place is sanctified
ness, With the remembrance of an ancient friend. And be a man: my heart will not forget her. ship.
Acas. Delay not then ; but haste and cheer Cas. I am a villain, if I will not seek thee,
thy love. Till I may be reveng'd for all the wrongs
Cas. Oh! I will throw my impatient arms Done me by that ungrateful fair thou plead’st In her soft bosom sigh my soul to peace;
about her ; for. Cham. She wrong'd thee? By the fury in Till through the panting breast she finds the my heart,
way Thy father's honour's not above Monimia's; To mould my heart, and make it what she will. Nor was thy mother's truth and virtue fairer. Monimia! Oh!
[Exeunt. Acas. Boy, don't disturb the ashes of the dead
SCENE II.-A Chamber. With thy capricious follies; the remembrance
Enter MONIMIA. Of the lov'd creature that once fili'd these
Mon. Stand off, and give me room ; Cham. Has not been wrong'd.
I will not rest till I have found Castalio. Cas. It shall not.
My wish's lord, comely as the rising day. Cham. No, nor shall
I cannot die in peace, till I have seen him. Monimia, though a helpless orphan, destitute
Enter CastaLIO. Of friends and fortune, though the unhappy sister
[tion, Cas. Who talks of dying, with a voice so Of poor Chamont, whose sword is all his por- | That life's in love with it?
Mon. Hark! 'tis he that answers.
They swell, they press their beams upon me Where art thou ?
still : Cns. Here, my love.
Wilt thou not speak ? If we must part for ever, Mon. No nearer, lest I vanish.
Give me but one kind word to think upon, Cas. Have I been in a dream they all this And please myself withal, whilst my heart's while ?
breaking And art thou but the shadow of Monimia : Mon. Ah! poor Castalio!
[Erit. Why dost thou fly me thus!
Cas. What means all this? Why all t. is stir Mon. Oh! were it possible that we could
to plague drown
A single wretch ? If but your word can shake In dark oblivion but a few past hours, This world to atoms, why so much ado We might be happy.
With me? think me but dead, and lay me so. Cas. Is't then so hard, Monimia, to forgive A fault, when humble love, like mine, im
Enter POLYDORE. plores thee ? For I must love thee, though it proves my
Pol. To live, and live a torment to myself, ruin.
What dog would bear't, that knew but his I'll kneel to thee, and weep a flood before thee. condition ?
[cowards, Yet prythee, tyrant, break not quite my heart; We've little knowledge, and that makes us But when my task of penitence is done, Because it cannot tell us what's to come. Heat it again, and comfort me with love. Cas. Who's there? Mon. If I am dumb, Castalio, and want Pol. Why, what art thou ? words
Cas. My brother Polydore !
Cas. Canst thou inform me
Cas. Of my Monimia ?
Pol. No. 'Good day! Just as thy poor heart thinks. Have not I Cas. In haste ! wrong'd thee ?
Methinks my Polydore appears in sadness. Cus. No.
Pol. Indeed! and so to me does my Castalio. Mon. Still thou wander'st in the dark, Cas- ('as. Do I? talio ;
Pol. Thou dost.
Cas. My better angel, then do thou inform me I'm strangely alter'd, brother, since I saw thee.
Within thy friendlý bosom all my follies; When I stood waiting underneath the window, For thou wilt pardon 'em, because they're Deaf to my cries, and senseless of my pains ?
mine. Mon. Did I not beg thee to forbear i.quiry? Pol. Be not too credulous; consider first, Read'st thou not something in my face, that Friends may be false. Is there no friendship speaks
false? Wonderful change, and horror from within Cas. Why dost thou ask me that? Does this Cas. If, lab'ring in the pangs of death,
appear Thou wouldst do any thing to give me ease, Like a false friendship, when, with open arms Unfold this riddle ere my thoughts grow wild, And streaming eyes, I'run upon thy breast? And let in fears of ugly form upon me.
Oh! 'tis in thee alone I must have comfort! Mon. My heart wont let me speak it; but Pol. I fear, Castalio, I have none to give remember,
thee. Monimia, poor Monimia, tells you this :
Cas. Dost thou not love me then ? We ne'er must meet again
Pol. Oh, more than life; Cas. Ne'er meet again?
I never had a thought of my Castalio, Mon. No, never.
Might wrong the friendship we had vow'd toCas. Where's the power
Hast thou dealt so by me?
[gether. On earth, that dares not look like thee, and Cas. I hope I have. say so?
Pol. Then tell me why, this morning, this Thou art my heart's inheritance: I serv'd
disorder? A long and faithful slavery for thee;
Cas. 0 Polyrore, I know not how to tell And who shall rob me of the dear-bought Shame rises in my face, and interrupts (thee; blessing?
The story of my tongue. Mon. Time will clear all; but now let this Pol. I grieve, my friend
[me. content you:
[solv'd Knows any thing which he's asham'd to tell Heaven has decreed, and therefore I've re- Cas. Oh, much too oft. Our destiny con(With torment I must tell it thee, Castalio)
triv'd Ever to be a stranger to thy love,
To plagge us both with one unhappy love! In some far distant country waste my life, Thou, like a friend, a constant, gen'rous friend, And from this day to see thy face no more. In its first pangs didst trust me with thy pa:Cas. Why turn'st thou from me? I'm alone
Whilst I still smooth'd my pain with smiles Methinks I stand upon a naked beach,
before thee, Sighing to winds, and to the seas complaining, And made a contract I ne'er meant to keep. Whilst afar off the vessel sails away,
Pol. How ! Where all the treasure of my soul's embark'd; Cas. Still new ways I studied to abuse thee, Wilt thou not turn ?-Oh I could those eyes And kept thee as a stranger to my passion, but speak,
Till yesterday I wedded with Monimia. I should know all, for love is pregnant in'em; Pól. Ah! Castalio, was that well done?
Cas. No; to conceal't from thee was much Cas. Ye gods! we're taught that all your a fault.
works are justice : Pol. A fault! when thou hast heard
Ye're painted merciful, and friends to inno: The tale I'll tell, what wilt thou call it then ?
ceuce: Cas. How my heart throbs!
If so, then why these plagues upon my head ? Pol. First from thy friendship, traitor,
Pol. Blame not the heavens, 'tis Polydore I cancel't thus: after this day I'll ne'er
has wrong'd thee; Hold trust or converse with the false Castalio ! I've stain'd thy bed ; thy spotless marriage joys This, witness, Heaven.
Have been polluted by thy brother's lust. Cas. What will my fate do with me ?
Cus. By thee? I've lost all happiness, and know not why! Pol. By me, last night, the horrid deed What means this, brother?
Was done, when all things slept but rage and Pol. Perjur’d, treach'rous wretch,
Cas. Now, where's Monimia? Oh!
Mon. I'm here ! who calls me ? Cas. Oh! think a little what thy heart is doing :
Methought I heard a voice How, from our infancy, we hand in hand
Sweet as the shepherd's pipe upon the moun. Have trud the path of life in love together.
tains, One bed has held us, and the same desires,
When all his little flock's at feed before him. Whene'er bad I a friend that was not Poly Art thou prepar'd for everlasting pains ? The same aversions, still employ'd our thoughts. But
what means this ? h-re's blood! Or Polydore a foe that was not mine? (dore's, E'en in the womb we embrac'd; and wilt thou Hurt not her tender life?
Pol. Oh! let me charge thee, by th' eternal
Cas. Not kill her?
Mon. That task myself have finish'd : I shall
die Plung'd in the gulf of grief, and none to help Pol. Go to Monimia; iu her arms thou'lt
Before we part: I've drunk a healing, draught find
For all my cares, and never more shall wrong Repose; she has the art of healing sorrows.
thee. Cus. What arts?
Pol. Oh, she's innocent. Pol. Blind wretch! thou husband ? there's and thou wilt make a wretch of me, indeed.
Cas. Tell me that story, a question ! Is she not a
Pol. Hadst thou, Castaliv, us'd me like a Cas. What?
Throw Pol. Whore? I think that word needs no ex
This ne'er had happen'd; hadst thou let me plaining
Thy marriage, we bad all now wet in joy: Cas. Alas! I can forgive e'en this to thee;
But, ignorant of that, But let me tell thee, Polydore, I'm griev'd
Hearing th' appointment made, enraged to
think To find thee guilty of such low revenge, To wrong that virtue which thou couldst pot
Thou hadst undone me in successful love, ruin.
1, in the dark, went and supplied thy place; Pol. It seems I lie, then!
Whilst all the night, midst our triumphant joys, Cas. Should the bravest man
The trembling, tender, kind, deceiv'a Moninia, That e'er wore conq'ring sword, but dare to
Embrac'd, caress'd, and call'd me her Castalio.
[liars. What thou proclaim’st, he were the worst of
Mon. Now, my Castalio, the most dear of
men, My friend may be mistaken. Pol. Damn the evasiou !
Wilt thou receive pollution to thy bosom,
And close the eyes of one that has betray'd you? Thou mean'st the worst ! and he's a base-born That said, I lied !
Cas. 0, I'm the unbappy wretch, whose
Has weigb'd you down into destruction with
[bin: From old Acasto's loins : the midwife put
Mon. When I'm laid low i'th'grave, and quite A cheat upon my mother; and, instead
forgotten, Of a true brother, in the cradle by me Plac'd some coarse peasant's cub, and thou May'st thou be happy in a fairer bride!
But none can ever love thee like Munimia. art he!
When I am dead, as presently I shall be, Cas. Thou art my brother still.
(For the grim tyrant grasps my hand already,) Pol. Thou liest! Cas. Nay, then
Speak well of me: and it thou find ill tongues
Too busy with my fame, don't hear ine wrong'd; Yet, I am calm, Pól. A coward's always so.
"Twill be a noble justice to the memory Cas. Abah!- that stings home! Coward : Of a poor wretch, once honour'd with thy love.
[Dies. Pol. Ay, base-born coward ! villain ! Cus. This to thy heart, then, though my mo
Enter CHAMONT and Acasto. ther bore thee! [They fight ; POLYDORE runs on Castalio's Cham. Gape, earth, and swallow me to quick sword.
If I forgive your house ! (destruction, Pol. Now my Castalio is again my friend. Ye've overpower'd me now! Cas. What have I done? my sword is in thy But, hear me, Heaven !-Ah! here's a scene of breast.
death! Pol. So would I have it be, thou best of men, My sister, my Monimia, breathless ! Now, Thou kindest brother, and thou truest friend' Ye powers above, if ye have justice, strike!
Strike bolts through me, and through the curs'd | The author sends to beg you will be kind, Castalio!
And spare those many faults you needs must Cas. Stand off; thou hot brain’d, boisterous,
find. noisy, ruflian!
You, to whom wit a common foe is grown, And leave me to my sorrows.
The thing ye scorn and publicly disown. Chan. By the love
Though now, perhaps, ye're here for other I bore her living, I will ne'er forsake her ;
ends, But here remain till my heart burst with sub- He swears to me ye ought to be his friends : bing:
For he ne'er call'd ye yet insipid tools, Cas. vanish, I charge thee! or
Nor wrote one line to tell ye you were fools ;
[Draws a dagger. But says of wit ye have so large a store, Cham. Thou canst not kill me ! [ture! So very much you never will have more. That would be a kindness, and against thy na- He ne'er with libel treated yet the town, Acas. What means Castalio! Sure thou wilt The names of honest men bedaub'd and shown. not pull
Nay, never once lampoon'd the harmless life More sorrows on thy aged father's head ! Of suburb virgin, or of city wife. Tell me, I beg you, tell me the sad cause Satire's th' effect of poetry's disease, Of all this ruin.
Which, sick of a lewd age, she vents for ease, Cas. Thou, unkind Chamont,
But now her only strife should be to please ; Unjustly hast pursu'd me with thy hate, Since of ill fate the baneful cloud's withdrawn, And sought the life of him that never wrong's Ard happiness again begins to dawn,
Since back with joy and triumph he is come, Now, if thou wilt embrace a noble vengeance, That always drew fears hence, ne'er brought Come join with me, and curse
'em home. Cham. What?
Oft has he plough'd the boisť'rous ocean o'er, Acas. Have patience.
Yet ne'er more welcome to the longing shore, Cas. Patience! preach it to the winds, Not when he brought home victories before ; To roaring seas, or raging fires ! for, curs’d For then fresh laurels Nourish'd on his brow; As I am now, 'tis this must give me patience: And he comes crown'd with olive-branches Thus I find rest, and shall complain no more.
[Stabs himself. Receive him-oh, receive him as his friends, Chamont, to thee my birthright I bequeath: Embrace the blessing which he recommends : Comfort my mourning father-heal his griefs ; Such quiet as yonr foes shall ne'er destroy ;
(ACASto faints into the arms of u Serrant. Then shake off fears, and clap your hands for For I perceive they fall with weight upon
SPOKEN BY SERINA.
You've seen one orphan ruin'd here; and I Cham. Take care of good Acasto, whilst I go May be the next, if old Acasto die : To search the means by which the fates have should it prove so, I'd fain amongst you find plagu'd us.
Who 'tis would to the fatherless be kind, 'Tis thus that heaven its empire does main: To whose protection might I safely go ? It may afflict; but man must not complain.
Is there among you no good nature ? No. (Exeunt.
What shall I do? Should I the godly seek,
Affect each form and saint-like institution;
So draw the brethren all to contribution ?
Or shall I (as I guess the poet may To you, great judges, in this writing age, Within these three days) fairly run away? The sons of wit, and patrons of the stage, No; to some city lodgings I'll retire ; With all those humble thoughts, which still seem very grave, and privacy desire have sway'd
Till I am thought some heiress, rich in lands, His pride much doubting, trembling and afraid Fled to escape a cruel guardian's hands; Of what is to his want of merit due,
Which may produce a story worth the telling, And aw'd by every excellence in you, Of the next sparks that go a fortune stealing.