Is there so wretched as Monimia? Enter POLYDORE. Pol. Monimia, weeping! So morning dews on new-blown roses lodge, Mon. Let me alone to sorrow. 'Tis a cause Pol. Nay, wonder not; last night I heard His oaths, your vows, and to my torment saw Your wild embraces; heard the appointment made; I did, Monimia, and cursed the sound. Breathe out the choicest secrets of my heart, Mon. Nay, I'll conjure you by the gods and By the honour of your name, that's most concerned, To tell me, Polydore, and tell me truly, Pol. Within thy arms I triumphed! rest had been my foe. [She faints. Let mischiefs multiply! Let every hour And grow a curser of the works of nature! The friendship e'er you vowed to good Castalio Pol. Which way can ruin reach the man that's As I am, in possession of thy sweetness? Pol. What says Monimia! ha! Wilt thou be sworn, my love? wilt thou be ne'er Speak that again. Unkind again? Mon. Banish such fruitless hopes! Have you swore constancy to my undoing? Mon. Away; what meant my lord Last night? Pol. Is that a question now to be demanded? I hope Monimia was not much displeased. Mon. I am Castalio's wife. Saw it performed. Pol. And then, have I enjoyed My brother's wife? Mon. As surely as we both Must taste of misery, that guilt is thine. Pol. Must we be miserable then? Mon. Oh! Pol. Oh! thou mayst yet be happy. Mon. Couldst thou be Happy, with such a weight upon thy soul? Of added sins upon my wretched head. Pol. Nay, then, very moment Mon. And wilt thou be a very faithful wretch? Never grow fond of cheerful peace again? Wilt thou with me study to be unhappy, And find out ways how to increase affliction? Pol. We'll institute new arts, unknown before, To vary plagues, and make them look like new ones. First, if the fruit of our detested joy, A child, be born, it shall be murderedMon. No; Sure that may live. Pol. Why? Mon. To become a thing More wretched than its parents, to be branded Full of my guilt, distracted where to roam, I'll find some place, where adders nest in winter, [Exeunt. ACT V. SCENE I.-A Garden. CASTALIO lying on the ground.-Soft music. SONG. Come, all ye youths, whose hearts e'er bled Bring each a garland on his head, Let none his sorrows hide: And see, when your complaints ye join, Though bright as heaven, whose stamp she bears, See where the deer trot after one another, Calm arbours, lusty health and innocence, Once in a season too they taste of love: I would forget, and blot from my remembrance. Acast. Forget Monimia ! Cast. She, to chuse: Monimia! The very sound's ungrateful to my sense. Acast. This might seem strange, but you, I've found, will hide Your heart from me; you dare not trust your fa ther. Cast. No more Monimia. Acast. Is she not your wife? Cast. So much the worse; who loves to hear of wife? When you would give all worldly plagues a name, Worse than they have already, call them wife: But a new-married wife's a teeming mischief, Full of herself! Why what a deal of horror 13 To my own choice. Acast. I say, no more dispute. Complaints are made to me, that you have I promised you to do Monimia right, wronged her. Cast. Who has complained? And thought my word a pledge, I would not forfeit: Acast. Her brother, to my face, proclaimed her But you, I find, would fright us to performance. Cha. Where is the hero, famous and renowned For wronging innocence and breaking vows? Whose mighty spirit, and whose stubborn heart, No woman can appease, nor man provoke? Acust. I guess, Chamont, you come to seek Castalio. Cha. I come to seek the husband of Monimia. Cast. The slave is here. Cha. I thought e'er now to have found you Atoning for the ills you have done Chamont; For you have wronged the dearest part of him. Monimia, young lord, weeps in this heart; And all the tears, thy injuries have drawn From her poor eyes, are drops of blood from hence. Cast. Sir, in my younger years, with care you taught me, That brave revenge was due to injured honour: Because thou knowest that place is sanctified Cust. I am a villain, if I will not seek thee, Till I may be revenged for all the wrongs, Done me by that ungrateful fair, thou plead'st for. Cha. She wronged thee! by the fury in my heart, Sheath up thy angry sword, and don't affright me. Cast. Sir, if you'd have me think you did not take This opportunity to shew your vanity, Farewell: I wish much happiness attend you. Give me Chamont, and let the world forsake me. Cast. Sir, 'twas my last request, You would, though I find you'll not be satisfied; No artful prostitute, in falsehoods practised, Cast. Farewell-My father, you seem troubled. Came to disturb thee thus. I'm grieved I hin dered Thy just resentment. But Monimia Cast. Damn her. Acast. Don't curse her. Cast. Did I? Acast. Yes. Cast. I'm sorry for it. Except she see you, sure she'll grow distracted. Cast. I cannot hear Monimia's soul's in sadness, Acast. Delay not then, but haste and cheer thy love. Gast. Oh! I will throw my impatient arms In her soft bosom sigh my soul to peace, SCENE II. A Chamber. Enter MONIMIA. I will not rest till I have found Castalio, Acast. Methinks, if, as I guess, the fault's but I cannot die in peace till I have seen him. Acast. I'll send and bring her hither. Acast. For my sake, Castalio, and the quiet of my age. Cast. Why will you urge a thing my nature starts at? Acast. Prithee forgive her. Cast. Lightnings first shall blast me. Enter FLORELLA. · CASTALIO within. Cast. Who talks of dying with a voice so sweet, Mon. Hark! 'tis he that answers. And every heart awakes, as mine does now. Cast. [Entering.] Here, my love. Mon. No nearer, lest I vanish. Cast. Have I been in a dream, then, all this while? And art thou but the shadow of Monimia? Mon. Oh, were it possible, that we could drown Cast. Is't then so hard, Monimia, to forgive A fault, where humble love, like mine, implores thee? For I must love thee, though it prove my ruin. Flor. My lord, where are you! Oh, Castalio! What shall I do to be enough thy slave, And satisfy the lovely pride that's in thee? Mon. If I am dumb, Castalio, and want words Just as thy poor heart thinks! Have not I wronged | On earth that dare not look like thee, and say so? thee? Which, with my mournful sighs, made such sad music, As might have moved the hardest heart; why wert thou Deaf to my cries, and senseless of my pains? Mon. Did not I beg thee to forbear inquiry? Read'st thou not something in my face, that speaks Wonderful change, and horror from within me? Cast. Then there is something yet, which I've not known: What dost thou mean by horror, and forbearance Cast. If, labouring in the pangs of death, Thou would'st do any thing to give me ease, Unfold this riddle ere my thoughts grow wild, And let in fears of ugly form upon me. Mon. My heart won't let me speak it; but remember, Monimia, poor Monimia, tells you this, Cast. What means my destiny? For all my good or evil fate dwells in thee! Mon. No, never. Cast. Where's the power Thou art my heart's inheritance; I served Mon. Time will clear all; but now, let this Heaven has decreed, and therefore I'm resolved (With torment I must tell it thee, Castalio) Ever to be a stranger to thy love, In some far distant country waste my life, And never more shall find the way to rest; I should know all, for love is pregnant in them; [Exit MONIMIA, Mon. Ah, poor Castalio! Cast. Pity, by the gods, She pities me! then thou wilt go eternally. What means all this? Why all this stir to plague A single wretch? If but your word can shake This world to atoms, why so much ado With me? Think me but dead, and lay me so. Enter POLYDORE. Pol. To live, and live a torment to myself, What dog would bear't, that knew but his con dition? We've little knowledge, and that makes us cow ards, Because it cannot tell us what's to come. Cast. Of my Monimia! Pol. No. Good-day. Methinks my Polydore appears in sadness. Pol. Indeed, and so to me does my Castalio. Cust. Do I? |