To tell me, Polydore, and tell me truly,
Where did you rest last night?

Pol. Within thy arms

I triumphed! rest had been my foe.
Mon. 'Tis done-

[She faints.
Pol. She faints! No help! who waits? A curse
Upon my vanity, that could not keep
The secret of my happiness in silence.
Confusion! we shall be surprised anon,
And consequently all must be betrayed.
Monimia! She breathes-Monimia-
Mon. Well-

Let mischiefs multiply! Let every hour
Of my loathed life yield me increase of horror!
Oh, let the sun to these unhappy eyes
Ne'er shine again, but be eclipsed for ever;
May every thing, I look on, seem a prodigy,
To fill my soul with terrors, till I quite
Forget I ever had humanity,

And grow a curser of the works of nature!
Pol. What means all this?

Mon. Oh, Polydore, if all

The friendship e'er you vowed to good Castalio
Be not a falsehood; if you ever loved
Your brother, you have undone yourself and me.
Pol. Which way can ruin reach the man that's
rich,

As I am, in possession of thy sweetness?
Mon. Oh! I'm his wife.

Pol. What says Monimia! ha!

Speak that again.

Men. I am Castalio's wife.

Pol. His married, wedded wife?
Mlon. Yesterday's sun

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?

SCENE I.-A Garden.

I'll find some place, where adders nest in winter,
Loathsome and venomous: where poisons hang,
Like gums, against the walls: where witches meet
By night, and feed upon some pampered imp,
Fat with the blood of babes: There I'll inhabit,
And live up to the height of desperation;
Desire shall languish like a withering flower,
And no distinction of the sex be thought of.
Horrors shall fright me from those pleasing harms,
And I'll no more be caught with beauty's charms,
But, when I'm dying, take me in thy arms.

CASTALIO lying on the ground.-Soft music.
SONG.

Come, all ye youths, whose hearts e'er bled
By cruel beauty's pride;
Bring each a garland on his head,

Let none his sorrows hide :
But hand in hand around me move,
Singing the saddest tules of love;

And see, when your complaints ye join,
If all your wrongs can equal mine.

The happiest mortal once was I; My heart no sorrows knew ; Pity the pain with which I die,

But ask not whence it grew. Yet if a tempting fair you find, That's very lovely, very kind,

[Exeunt.

Though bright as heaven, whose stamp she bears,
Think of my fate, and shun her snares.

Sce, where the deer trot after one another,
Male, female, father, daughter, mother, son,
Brother and sister, mingled all together.
No discontent they know; but in delightful

Acast. No, not much.

But

Wildness and freedom, pleasant springs, fresh

herbage,

Calm arbours, lusty health and innocence, Enjoy their portion; if they see a man, How will they turn together all, and gaze Upon the monster

Once in a season too they taste of love: Only the beast of reason is its slave, And in that folly drudges all the year.

Enter ACASTO.

Acast. Castalio! Castalio!

Cast. Who's there

So wretched but to name Castalio?

Acast. I hope my message may succeed!
Cast. My father!

'Tis joy to see you, though where sorrow's nourished.

Acast. I'm come in beauty's cause; you'll guess the rest.

Cast. A woman! If you love my peace of mind,

Name not a woman to me; but to think
Of woman, were enough to taint my brains,
Till they ferment to madness. Oh, my father!
Acast. What ails my boy?
Cast. A woman is the thing

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 father.

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 Has that poor wretch to come, that wedded yesterday!

Acast. Castalio, you must go along with me, And see Monimia.

Cust. Sure my lord but mocks me.

Go see Monimia! Pray, my lord, excuse me,
And leave the conduct of this part of life
To my own choice.

Acast. I say, no more dispute. Complaints are made to me, that you have wronged her.

Cast. Who has complained?

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 ?

Acast. 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 ere 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. Then you are Chamont?
Cha. Yes, and I hope no stranger
To great Castalio.

Cast. I have heard of such a man,
That has been very busy with my honour.
I own, I'm much indebted to you, sir,
And here return the villain back again,
You sent me by my father.

Cha. Thus I'll thank you.

[Draws. Acast. By this good sword, who first presumes

to violence,

wronged,

And in such terms they have warmed me.

Cast. What terms? Her brother! Heaven! Where learned she that?

What! does she send her hero with defiance? He durst not sure affront you!

And thought my word a pledge, I would not forfeit:

But you, I find, would fright us to performance. Cast. Sir, in my younger years, with care you

taught me,

That brave revenge was due to injured honour;

Oppose not then the justice of my sword,
Lest you should make me jealous of your love.
Cha. Into thy father's arms thou fliest for
safety,

Because thou knowest that place is sanctified
With the remembrance of an ancient friendship.
Cast. 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 pleadest for.
Cha. She wronged thee! by the fury in my
heart,

Thy father's honour's not above Monimia's;
Nor was thy mother's truth and virtue fairer.

Acast. Boy, don't disturb the ashes of the dead With thy capricious follies. The remembrance Of the loved creature, that once filled these

Sheath up thy angry sword, and don't affright me.
Chamont, let once Serina calm thy breast:
If any of my friends have done thee injuries,
I'll be revenged, and love thee better for it.

Cast. Sir, if you'd have me think you did not take

This opportunity to shew your vanity,

Let's meet some other time, when by ourselves
We fairly may dispute our wrongs together.
Cha. Till then, I am Castalio's friend.
Cast. Serina,

Farewell: I wish much happiness attend you.

Ser. Chamont's the dearest thing I have on earth; Give me Chamont, and let the world forsake me. Cha. Witness the gods, how happy I'm in thee! No beauteous blossom of the fragrant spring, Though the fair child of nature, newly born, Can be so lovely. Angry, unkind Castalio, Suppose I should a while lay by my passions, And be a beggar in Monimia's cause, Might I be heard?

Cast. Sir, 'twas my last request,

You would, though I find you will not be satisfi

ed;

So, in a word, Monimia is my scorn;
She basely sent you here to try my fears;

Flor. Oh, shew me quickly, where's Castalio!
Acast. Why, what's the business?
Flor. Oh, the poor Monimia !
Cust. Ha!

Acast. What's the matter?

Flor. Hurried by despair,

She flies with fury over all the house,
Through every room of each apartment, crying,
'Where's my Castalio? Give me my Castalio!
Except she see you, sure she'll grow distracted.

Cast. Ha! will she? Does she name Castalio? And with such tenderness? Conduct me quickly To the poor lovely mourner. Oh, my father! Acast. Then wilt thou go? Blessings attend thy purpose. !

Cast. I cannot hear Monimia's soul's in sadness, And be a man; my heart will not forgot her; But do not tell the world you saw this of me.

Acast. Delay not then, but haste and cheer thy love.

Cast. Oh! I will throw my impatient arms about her,

In her soft bosom sigh my soul to peace,
Till through the panting breast she finds the way
To mould my heart, and make it what she will."
Monimia! oh! [Exeunt Acasto and Cast.

SCENE II.

A Chamber. Enter MONIMIA. Mon. Stand off, and give me room! I will not rest till I have found Castalio, My wishes' lord, comely as the rising day, Amidst ten thousand eminently known! Flowers spring up where'er he treads; his eyes, Fountains of brightness, cheering all about him! When will they shine on me?-Oh, stay my soul! I cannot die in peace till I have seen him.

CASTALIO within.

Cast. Who talks of dying with a voice so sweet, That life's in love with it?

Mon. Hark! 'tis he that answers.
So, in a camp, though at the dead of night,
If but the trumpet's cheerful noise is heard,
All at the signal leap from downy rest,
And every heart awakes, as mine does now.
Where art thou?

Cast. [Entering.] Here, my love.
Mon. No nearer, lest I vanish.

Mon. Could'st thou but forgive me-
Cast. What?

Mon. For my fault last night: alas, thou can'st not!

Cast. I can, and do.

Mon. Thus crawling on the earth, Would I that pardon meet; the only thing Can make me view the face of heaven with hope. Cast. Then, let's draw near. Mon. Ah, me!

Cast. So, in the fields,

When the destroyer has been out for prey,
The scattered lovers of the feathered kind,
Seeking, when danger's past, to meet again,
Make moan, and call, by such degrees approach;
Till, joining thus, they bill, and spread their
wings,

Murmuring love, and joy their fears are over. Mon. Yet, have a care; be not too fond of peace,

Lest, in pursuance of the goodly quarry,
Thou meet a disappointment that distracts thee.
Cast. My better angel, then do thou inform

me,

What danger threatens me, and where it lies :
Why didst thou (prithee smile, and tell me why)
When I stood waiting underneath thy window,
Quaking with fierce and violent desires;
The dropping dews fell cold upon my head,
Darkness inclosed, and the winds whistled round,
Which, with my mournful sighs, made such a
music,

while?

And art thou but the shadow of Monimia?

Why dost thou fly me thus?

Mon. Oh, were it possible, that we could drown In dark oblivion but a few past hours, We might be happy.

Cast. Is it 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.
Which way shall I court thee?

What shall I do to be enough thy slave,
And satisfy the lovely pride that's in thee?
I'll kneel to thee, and weep a flood before thee.
Yet prithee, tyrant, break not quite my heart;
But when my task of penitence is done,
Heal it again, and comfort me with love.

Mon. If I am dumb, Castalio, and want words
Το pay thee back this mighty tenderness,
It is because I look on thee with horror,
And cannot see the man I have wronged.
Cast. Thou hast not wronged me.
Mon. Ah! alas, thou talk'st

Just as thy poor heart thinks! Have not I wronged thee?

Cast. No.

Mon. Still thou wander'st in the dark, Castalio; But wilt, ere long, stumble on horrid danger. Cast. What means my love?

What dost thou mean by horror and forbearance
Of mine inquiry? Tell me, I beg thee, tell me,
And don't betray me to a second madness!
Mon. Must I?

Cast. If, labouring in the pangs of death, Thou wouldst 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,
We ne'er must meet again-

Cast. What means my destiny?

For all my good or evil fate dwells in thee!
Ne'er meet again!

Mon. No, never.

Cust. Where's the power

On earth, that dare not look like thee, and say so?

Thou art my heart's inheritance; I served
A long and painful faithful slavery for thee:

And who shall rob me of the dear bought blessing?

Mon. Time will clear all; but now, let this content you.

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, from this day, to see thy face no more.

Cast. Where am I? Sure I wander amidst enchantment,

And never more shall find the way to rest;
But, oh, Monimia! art thou indeed resolved
To punish me with everlasting absence?

Why turnest thou from me? I am alone already;
Methinks I stand upon a naked beach,
Sighing to winds, and to the seas complaining,
Whilst afar off the vessel sails away,

Where all the treasure of my soul's embarked. Wilt thou not turn? Oh! could those eyes but speak,

I should know all, for love is pregnant in them;
They swell, they press their beams upon me still:
Wilt thou not speak? If we must part for ever,
Give me but one kind word to think upon,
And please myself withal, whilst my heart's
breaking.

Mon. Ah, poor Castalio!
Cast. Pity, by the gods,

[Exit Monimia.

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 it, that knew but his condition?

We have little knowledge, and that makes us cowards,

Because it cannot tell us what's to come.

Cast. Who's there?

Pol. Why, what art thou?

Cast. My brother Polydore?
Pol. My name is Polydore.
Cast. Canst thou inform me-
Pol. Of what!

Cast. Of my Monimia !

Pol. No. Good-day.

Cast. In haste!

Methinks my Polydore appears in sadness,

Pol. Indeed, and so to me does my Castalio. Cast. Do I?

Pol. Thou dost.

Cast. Alas, I have wond'rous reason!

I am strangely altered, brother, since I saw thee. Pol. Why!

Cast. Oh! to tell thee, would but put thy heart

To pain. Let me embrace thee but a little,
And
weep upon thy neck; I would repose
VOL. I.

Within thy friendly bosom all my follies;
For thou wilt pardon them, because they are mine.
Pol. Be not too credulous; consider first;
Friends may be false. Is there no friendship
false?

Cast. Why dost thou ask me that? Does this

appear

Like a false friendship, when, with open arms,
And streaming eyes, I run upon thy breast?
Oh! 'tis in thee alone I must have comfort!

Pol. I fear, Castalio, I have none to give thee.
Cast, Dost thou not love me, then?
Pol. Oh, more than life :

I never had a thought of my Castalio,
Might wrong the friendship we have vowed to-
gether.

Hast thou dealt so by me?
Cast. I hope I have.

Pol. Then tell me why this mourning, this dis-
order?

Cast. Oh, Polydore, I know not how to tell
thee;

Shame rises in my face, and interrupts
The story of my tongue.

Pol. I grieve, my friend

Knows any thing, which he is ashamed to tell me ; Or didst thou e'er conceal thy thoughts from Polydore?

Cast. Oh, much too oft!
But let me here conjure thee,

By all the kind affection of a brother,
(For I am ashamed to call myself thy friend)
Forgive me-

Pol. Well, go on.

Cast. Our destiny contrived

To plague us both with one unhappy love.
Thou, like a friend, a constant, generous friend,
In its first pangs didst trust me with thy passion,
Whilst I still smoothed my pain with smiles be

fore thee,

Pol. A fault! when thou hast heard The tale I tell, what wilt thou call it then? Cast. How my heart throbs!

Pol. First for thy friendship, traitor,

I cancel it thus; after this day, I'll ne'er
Hold trust or converse with the false Castalio:
This, witness Heaven!

Cast. What will my fate do with me?
I've lost all happiness, and know not why.
What means this, brother?

Pol. Perjured, treacherous wretch, Farewell!

Cast. I'll be thy slave, and thou shalt use me Just as thou wilt, do but forgive me.

Bb