Mon. My lord, Castalio! Cust. 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 importance

Calls me away; I must attend my father.
Mon. Will you then leave me thus ?
Cast. But for a moment.

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

[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 silent?

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, ap-
peared,

Strange pleasures filled his eyes, and fired his heart,

Unloosed his tongue, and his first talk was love. Mon. The first created pair indeed were blessed;

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 enjoy

ment.

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
power I swear,
[Kneels.
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;
Now smile, then frown; now sorrowful, then
glad;

Now pleased, now not; and all you know not why!

Virtue you affect; inconstancy's your practice;
And when your loose desires once get dominion,
No hungry churl feeds coarser at a feast;
Every rank fool goes down.

Mon. Indeed, my lord,

I own my sex's follies; I have them all,
And, to avoid its fault, must fly from you.
Therefore, believe me, could you raise me high
As most fantastic woman's wish could reach,
And lay all nature's riches at my feet;
I'd rather run a savage in the woods
Amongst brute beasts, grow wrinkled and de-
formed,

As wildness and most rude neglect could make me,
So I might still enjoy my honour safe
From the destroying wiles of faithless men.

[Exit.

Pol. Who'd be that sordid foolish thing, called

man,

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,
I' th' very minute, when her virtue nods,
I'll rush upon her in a storm of love,
Beat down her guard of honour all before me,
Surfeit on joys, till even desire grow sick;
Then, by long absence, liberty regain,
And quite forget the pleasure and the pain.
[Exeunt POL. and Fage,

SCENE I.

A Saloon. Enter ACASTO, CASTALIO, and POLYDORE.

Acast. 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.

Cast. The actions of your life were always wondrous.

Acast. No flattery, boy! an honest man can't
live by it;

It is a little sneaking art, which knaves
Use to cajole and soften 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 smooth a poor man off with, that can't bribe him;

The grave dull fellow of small business sooths 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 th' 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 sooth him in his follies,
And ride him to advantage as I please?

Acast. Who merit, ought indeed to rise i' th' world;

But no wise man, that's honest, should expect it. What man of sense would rack his generous mind, To practise all the base formalities

And forms of business? force a grave starched face,

When he's a very libertine in's 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're 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,

Not loiter out my life at home, and know
No farther than one prospect gives me leave.
Acast. Busy your minds then, study arts and

true,

And I'm 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's more than man,
Something that's 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

vour.

Acast. This you could do. Cast. I'd serve my prince. Acast. Who'd serve him? Cast. I would, my lord. 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 ne'er 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'd 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.

Acast. Let me embrace you both. Now, by 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 you 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've, with this tongue, proclaimed

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

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,

Kissed me again; so blest 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,
And proved another parent.

Acast. I've 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've 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'd prosecute it with severest vengeance. [Exit.
Cha. I thank you from my
soul.

Mon. Alas! my brother!
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 talk so?

Mon. Look kindly on me then: I cannot bear
Severity; it daunts, and does amaze me.
My heart's 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-
ther,

A tender, honest, and a loving brother.-
You've not forgot our father?

Mon. I shall never.

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't, 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 value,

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 meditated 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 on 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
With different coloured rags, black, red, white,
yellow,

And seemed to speak variety of wretchedness.
I asked her of my way, which she informed me;
Then craved my charity, and bade me hasten
To save a sister! at that word I started.

Mon. The common cheat of beggars; every

day

And make himself by holy marriage mine. Chu. 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, sublte, 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'rt precious.
Mon. I will.

Cha. Appear as cold, when next you meet, as great ones,

When merit begs; then shalt thou see how soon
His heart will cool, and all his pains grow easy.
[Exit.
Mon. Yes, I will try him; torture him severely;
For, oh, Castalio! thou too much hast wronged

me,

In leaving me to Polydore's ill usage.

He comes; and now for once, oh, love stand neuter,

Whilst a hard part's performed! for I must 'tempt to

Wound his soft nature, though my heart aches for it. [Exit.

Enter CASTALIO.

Cast. Monimia, Monimia !-
-She's gone;
And seemed to part with anger in her eyes.
I am a fool, and she has found my weakness;
She uses me already like a slave,

Fast bound in chains, to be chastised at will.
'Twas not well done to trifle with my brother;
I might have trusted him with all the secret,
Opened my silly heart, and shewn it bare.-
But then he loves her too; but not like me:
I am a doating honest slave, designed
For bondage, marriage bonds, which I have sworn
To wear. It is the only thing I e'er
Hid from his knowledge; and he'll sure forgive
The first transgression of a wretched friend,
Betrayed to love, and all its little follies. [Exit.

Enter POLYDORE and Page at the door. Pol. Here place yourself, and watch my brother thoroughly.

If he should chance to meet Monimia, make
Just observation of each word and action;
Pass not one circumstance without remark:
Sir, 'tis your office; do't, and bring me word.

[Exit POL.

Enter MONIMIA and CASTAlio. Cast. Monimia, my angel! 'twas not kind To leave me like a turtle here alone, To droop and mourn the absence of my mate. When thou art from me, every place is desert, VOL. I.

And I, methinks, am savage and forlorn;
Thy presence only 'tis can make me blest,
Heal my unquiet mind, and tune my soul.
Mon. Oh, the bewitching tongues of faithless
men!

'Tis thus the false hyæna makes her moan,
To draw the pitying traveller to her den.
Your sex are so, such false dissemblers all,
With sighs and plaints ye entice poor women's
hearts,

And all, that pity you, are made your prey.
Cast. What means my love? Oh, how have I
deserved

This language, from the sovereign of my joys!
Stop, stop those tears, Monimia, for they fall,
Like baneful dew from a distempered sky;
I feel them chill me to the very heart.

Mon. Oh, you are false, Castalio, most for

sworn!

Attempt no farther to delude my faith;
My heart is fixed, and you shall shake it no more.
Cast. Who told you so? What hell-bred villain
durst

Profane the sacred business of my love?

Mon. Your brother, knowing on what terms
I'm here,

The unhappy object of your father's charity,
Licentiously discoursed to me of love,
And durst affront me with his brutal passion.

Cast. 'Tis I have been to blame, and only I;
False to my brother, and unjust to thee.
For, oh! he loves thee too, and this day owned it,
Taxed me with mine, and claimed a right above

me.

Mon. And was your love so very tame, to shrink?

Or, rather than lose him, abandon me?

Cast. I, knowing him precipitate and rash, To calm his heat, and to conceal my happiness, Seemed to comply with his unruly will; Talked as he talked, and granted all he asked; Lest he in rage might have our loves betrayed, And I for ever had Monimia lost.

Mon. Could you then? did you? can you own

it too?

'Twas poorly done, unworthy of yourself! And I can never think you meant me fair.

Cast. Is this Monimia? surely no; till now I ever thought her dove-like, soft, and kind. Who trusts his heart with woman's surely lost. You were made fair on purpose to undo us, While greedily we snatch the alluring bait, And ne'er distrust the poison, that it hides. Mon. When love ill-placed would find a means to break

Cast. It never wants pretences nor excuse. Mon. Man therefore was a lord-like creature

made,

Rough as the winds, and as inconstant too;
A lofty aspect given him for command,
Easily softened, when he would betray.
Like conquering tyrants, you our breasts invade,
While you are pleased to forage for a while;
But soon you find new conquests out, and leave
The ravaged province ruinate and waste.

2 D