THE ORPHAN: OR, THE Unhappy-Marriage: A TRAGEDY, As it is Acted At His ROYAL HIGHNESS THE DUKE's Theatre.
Written by THO. OTWAY.
Qui Pelago credit magno, se foenore tollit;
Qui Pugnas & Castra petit, praecingitur Auro;
Vilis Adulator picto jacet Ebrius Ostro;
Et qui sollicitat Nuptas, ad praemia peccat:
Sola pruinosis horret Facundia pannis,
Atque inopi lingua desertas invocat Artes.
Petron. Arb. Sat.
LONDON, Printed for R. Bentley, and M. Magnes, in Russel-Street in Covent-Garden, 1680.
TO HER Royal Highness THE DUTCHESS.
Madam,
AFTER having a great while wisht to write something that might be worthy to lay at your Highnesses Feet, and finding it impossible: Since the World has been so kind to me to Judge of this Poem to my advantage, as the most pardonable fault which I have made in its kind; I had sinn'd against my self, if I had not chosen this Opportunity to implore (what my Ambition is most fond of) your Favour and Protection.
For though Fortune would not so far bless my endeavours, as to encourage them with your Royal Highnesses presence, when this came into the World: Yet, I cannot but declare it was my design and hopes it might have been your Divertisement in that happy season, when you return'd again to chear all those eyes that had before wept for your Departure, and enliven all hearts that had droopt for your Absence: When [Page] Wit ought to have pay'd it's Choicest Tributes in, and Joy have known no Limits, then I hop'd my little Mite would not have been rejected; though my ill Fortune was too hard for me, and I lost a greater Honour, by your Royal Highnesses Absence, than all the Applauses of the World besides can make me Reparation for.
Nevertheless, I thought my self not quite unhappy, so long as I had hopes this way yet to recompence my disappointment past: When I consider'd also that Poetry might claim right to a little share in your Favour: For Tasso, and Ariosto, some of the best, have made their Names Eternal, by transmitting to after-Ages the Glory of your Ancestors: And under the spreading of that shade, where two of the best have planted their Lawrels, how Honoured should I be, who am the worst, if but a branch might grow for me.
I dare not think of offering at any thing in this Address, that might look like a Panegyrick, for fear lest when I have done my best, the World should Condemn me, for saying too little, and you your self check me, for medling with a Task unfit for my Talent.
For the description of Vertues, and Perfections so rare as yours are, ought to be done by as deliberate, as skillful a Hand; the Features must be drawn very fine, to be like, hasty dawbing would but spoil the Picture, and make it so unnatural, as must want false lights to set it off: [Page] And your Vertue can receive no more Lustre from Praises, than your Beauty can be improv'd by Art; which as it Charms the bravest Prince that ever amaz'd the World with his Virtue: So let but all other Hearts enquire into themselves, and then Judge how it ought to be prais'd.
Your Love too, as none but that great Heroe who has it could deserve it, and therefore, by a particular Lot from Heav'n, was destin'd to so extraordinary a blessing, so matchless for itself, and so wondrous for it's Constancy, shall be remembred to your Immortal Honour, when all other Transactions of the Age you live in shall be forgotten.
But I forget that I am to ask Pardon for the fault I have been all this while Committing: wherefore I beg your Highness to forgive me this presumption, and that you will be pleas'd to think well of one who cannot help resolving with all the Actions of Life, to endeavour to deserve it: Nay more, I would beg, and hope it may be granted, that I may through yours never want an Advocate in his Favour, whose Heart, and Mind, you have so entire a share in; it is my only Portion and my Fortune; I cannot but be happy, so long as I have but hopes I may enjoy it, and I must be Miserable, should it ever be my ill Fate to lose it.
This, with Eternal wishes for your Royal Highnesses Content, Happiness, and Prosperity, in all Humility is presented by
Your most obedient and devoted Servant, THO. OTWAY.
The Persons Represented in the Tragedy.
MEN.
- ACasto, A Nobleman retired from Court, and living privately in the Country. By Mr. Gillow.
- Castalio, His Son. By Mr. Betterton.
- Polydore, His Son. By Mr. Io. Williams.
- Chamount, A young Souldier of Fortune. By Mr. Smith.
- Ernesto, Servant in the Family. By Mr. Norris.
- Paulino, Servant in the Family. By Mr. Wiltshire.
- Cordelio, Polydore's Page. By the little Girl.
- Chaplain. By Mr. Percival.
WOMEN.
- Monimia, The Orphan, left under the Guardian-ship of old Acasto. By Mrs. Barry.
- Serina, Acasto's Daughter. By Mrs. Boteler.
- Florella, Monimia's Woman. By Mrs. Osborn.
SCENE, BOHEMIA.
Prologue.
TO you, great Iudges in this Writing Age,
The sons of Wit, and Patrons of the Stage,
With all those humble thoughts, which still have sway'd
His Pride, much doubting, trembling and affraid
Of what is to his want of merit due,
And aw'd by every Excellence in you,
The Author sends to beg you would be kind,
And spare those many faults you needs must find.
You to whom Wit a Common Foe is grown,
The thing ye scorn, and publickly disown;
Though now perhaps y'are here for other ends,
He swears to me, you ought to be his Friends:
For he ne're call'd ye yet insipid Tools;
Nor wrote one line to tell you ye were Fools:
But says of Wit ye have so large a store,
So very much, you never will have more.
He ne're with Libel treated yet the Town,
The names of Honest men bedawb'd and shown,
Nay, never once lampoon'd the harmless life
Of Suburb Virgin, or of City Wife:
Satyr's the effect of Poetries disease;
Which, sick of a lew'd Age, she vents for Ease,
But now her only strife should be to please.
Since of ill Fate the baneful Cloud's withdrawn;
And happiness again begins to dawn,
Since back with Joy and Triumph he is come,
That always drove Fears hence, he're brought 'em home.
Oft has he plough'd the boist'rous Ocean o're,
Yet ne're more welcome to the longing shoar,
Not when he brought home Victories before.
For then fresh Laurels flourisht on his Brow,
And he comes Crown'd with Olive-branches now.
Receive him! Oh receive him as his Friends;
Embrace the blessings which be Recommends;
Such quiet as your Foes shall ne're destroy;
Then shake off Fears, and clap your hands for Ioy.
THE ORPHAN.
ACT I. SCENE I.
Enter Paulino and Ernesto.
Paul.
'TIs strange, Ernesto, this severity
Should still reign pow'rful in Acasto's mind,
To hate the Court where he
Was bred and liv'd,
All Honours heap'd on him that Pow'r cou'd give.
Ernest.
'Tis true, He came thither a private Gentleman,
But young and brave, and of a Family
Ancient and Noble as the Empire holds.
The Honours he has gain'd are justly his;
He purchas'd them in War; thrice has he led
An Army against the Rebels, and as often
Return'd with Victory; the world has not
A truer Souldier, or a better Subject.
Paul.
It was his Vertue that first made me serve him;
He is the best of Masters as of Friends.
I know he has lately been invited thither;
Yet still he keeps his stubborn purpose, cries,
He's old, and willingly would be at rest;
I doubt there's deep resentment in his mind,
For the late slight his Honour suffer'd there.
Ernest.
Has he not▪ reason! When for what he had born
Long, hard, and faithful Toyl, he might have claim'd
[Page 2] Places in Honour, and employment high;
A huffing shining flat'ring cringing Coward,
A Canker-worm of Peace was rais'd above him.
Paul.
Yet still he holds Just value for the King,
Nor ever Names him but with highest reverence.
'Tis Noble that—
Ern.
Oh! I have heard him wanton in his praise,
Speak things of him might Charm the Ears of envy.
Paul.
Oh may he live till Natures self grow old,
And from her Womb no more can bless the Earth!
For when he dies, farewell all Honour, Bounty,
All generous encouragement of Arts,
For Charity her self becomes a Widdow.
Ern.
No, he has two Sons that were ordain'd to be
As well his Vertues, as his Fortunes Heirs.
Paul.
They're both of Nature mild, and full of sweetness.
They came Twins from the VVomb, and still they live,
As if they would go Twins too the Grave:
Neither has any thing he calls his own,
But of each others joys as griefs partaking;
So very honestly, so well they love,
As they were only for each other born.
Ern.
Never was Parent in an Off-spring happier,
He has a Daughter too, whose blooming Age
Promises Goodness equal to her Beauty.
Paul.
And as there is a Friendship 'twixt the Brethren,
So has her Infant Nature chosen too
A faithful partner of her thoughts and wishes,
And kind Companion of her harmless pleasures.
Ern.
You mean the Beautious Orphan, fair Monimia.
Paul.
The same, the Daughter of the brave Chamont.
He was our Lords Companion in the Wars,
Where such a wondrous friendship grew between 'em,
As only Death could end: Chamont's Estate
Was ruin'd in our late and Civil discords;
Therefore unable to advance her Fortune,
He left this Daughter to our Masters care;
To such a care as she soarce lost a Father.
Ern.
Her Brother to the Emperors Wars went early,
To seek a Fortune or a noble Fate;
[Page 3] Whence he with honour is expected back,
And mighty marks of that great Princes Favour.
Paul.
Our Master never would permit his Sons
To launch for Fortune in th' uncertain World,
But warnes to avoid both Courts, and Camps,
Where Dilatory Fortune plays the Jilt
With the brave noble honest gallant man,
To throw her self away on Fools and Knaves.
Ern.
They both have forward gen'rous active Spirits,
'Tis daily their Petition to their Father,
To send them forth where Glory's to be gotten;
They cry they're weary of their lazy home,
Restless to do some thing that Fame may talk of.
To day they chac'd the Boar, and near this time
Should be return'd.
Paul.
Oh that's a Royal sport!
We yet may see the old man in a morning
Lusty as health come ruddy to the Field,
And there pursue the Chace as if he meant
To o'retake Time and bring back Youth again.
Ex. Ern. and Paul.
Enter Castalio, Polidor, and Page.
Cast.
Polidor! our sport
Has been to day much better for the danger;
When on the brink the foaming Boar I met,
And in his side thought to have lodg'd my spear,
The desperate savage rusht within my Force,
And bore me headlong with him down the Rock.
Polid.
But then—
Cast.
Ay then my Brother, my Friend Polidor
Like Perseus mounted on his winged Steed
Came on, and down the dang'rous precipice leapt,
To save Castalio. 'Twas a God-like Act.
Polid.
But when I came, I found you Conqueror.
Oh my heart danc't to see your danger past!
The heat and fury of the Chace was coold,
And I had nothing in my mind but Joy.
Cast.
So, Polidor, methinks we might in War
[Page 4] Rush on together; Thou shou'dst be my guard,
And I'd be thine; what is't could hurt us then?
Now half the Youth of Europe are in Armes,
How fulsome must it be to stay behind,
And dye of rank diseases here at home?
Pol.
No, let me purchase in my Youth Renown,
To make me lovd and valu'd when I'm old;
I would be busie in the World and learn,
Not like a course and useless dunghill Weed
Fixt to one spot and rot just as I grew.
Cast.
Our Father
Has ta'ne himself a surfeit of the World,
And cries it is not safe that we should taste it;
I own I have Duty very pow'rful in me;
And tho' I'd hazard all to raise my Name,
Yet he's so tender and so good a Father,
I could not do a thing to cross his will.
Pol.
Castalio, I have doubts within my heart,
Which you, and only you, can satisfy:
Will you be free and candid to your Friend?
Cast.
Have I a thought my Polidor shou'd not know?
What can this mean?
Pol.
Nay, I'll conjure you too
By all the strictest bonds of Faithful Friendship,
To shew your heart as naked in this point,
As you would purge you of your sins to Heaven.
Cast.
I will.
Pol.
And should I chance to touch it nearly, bear it
With all the suff'rance of a tender Friend.
Cast.
As calmly as the wounded Patient bears
The Artist's hand, that Ministers his Cure.
Pol.
That's kindly said. You know our Fathers ward▪
The fair Monimia: is your heart at peace?
Is it so guarded that you could not love her?
Cast.
Suppose I should.
Pol.
Suppose you shou'd not, Brother.
Cast.
You'd say I must not.
Pol.
That would sound too roughly
'Twixt Friends and Brothers as we two are▪
Cast.
Is love a Fault?
Pol.
[Page 5]In one of us it may be;
What if I Love her?
Cast.
Then I must inform you,
I lov'd her first, and cannot quit the Claim,
But will preserve the Birth-right of my Passion.
Pol.
You will!
Cast.
I will.
Pol.
No more, I've done.
Cast.
Why not?
Pol.
I told you, I had done;
But you Castalio would dispute it.
Cast.
No:
Not with my Polydor; though I must own
My Nature obstinate and void of suff, rance.
Love raigns a very Tyrant in my heart,
Attended on his Throne by all his Guards
Of furious wishes, fears, and nice suspicions.
I could not bear a Rival in my Friendship,
I am so much in love, and fond of thee.
Pol.
Yet you would break this Friendship!
Cast.
Not for Crowns.
Pol.
But for a Toy you would, a Womans Toy,
Unjust Castalio!
Cast.
Prithee, where's my fault?
Pol.
You love Monimia.
Cast.
Yes.
Pol.
And you would kill me,
If I'm your Rival.
Cast.
No, sure weare such Friends,
So much one man, that our affections too
Must be united and the same as we are.
Pol.
I doat upon Monimia.
Cast.
Love her still;
Win, and enjoy her.
Pol.
Both of us cannot.
Cast.
No matter
Whose chance it proves, but let's not quarrel for't.
Pol.
You would not wed Monimia, would you?
Cast.
Wed her!
No! were she all desire could wish, as fair
[Page 6] As would the vainest of her Sex be thought,
With Wealth beyond what Woman pride could waste;
She should not cheat me of my Freedom Marry?
When I am old and weary of the World,
I may grow desperate
And take a Wife to mortify withall
Pol.
It is an elder Brothers duty so
To propagate his family and name:
You would not have yours dye and bury'd with you?
Cast.
Meer Vanity, and silly dotage all,
No, let me live at large, and when I dye.
Pol.
Who shall possess th' estate you leave?
Cast.
My Friend,
If he survives me, or if not, my King,
Who may bestow't again on some brave man,
Whose Honesty and Services deserve one.
Pol.
'Tis kindly offer'd.
Cast.
By yon Heaven I love
My Polydor beyond all wordly Joyes,
And would not shock his quiet to be blest
With greater happiness than man e're tasted.
Pol.
And by that heaven eternally I swear,
To keep the kind Castalio in my heart.
Whose shall Monimia be?
Cast.
No matter who's.
Pol.
Were you not with her privately last night?
Cast.
I was, and should have met her here again;
But th' opportunity shall now be thine;
My self will bring thee to the Scene of Love;
But have a care by Friendship I conjure thee,
That no false Play be offer'd to thy Brother.
Urge all thy pow'rs to make thy Passion prosper,
But wrong not mine.
Pol.
Heav'n blast me if I do.
Cast.
If't prove thy Fortune, Polidor, to conquer,
(For thou hast all the Arts of fine perswasion!)
Trust me, and let me know thy Loves success,
That I may ever after stifle mine.
Pol.
Though she be dearer to my soul than Rest
To weary Pilgrims, or to Misers Gold,
[Page 7] To great men Pow'r or wealthy Cities Pride,
Rather than wrong Castalio I'd forget her
For if ye pow'rs have happiness in store,
When ye would shower down joyes on Polydor,
In one great blessing all your bounty send,
That I may never lose so dear a Friend.
Ex. Cast. Pol. manet Page.
Enter Monimia.
Mon.
So soon return'd from hunting? This fair Day
Seems as if sent t'invite the World abroad.
Past not Castalio and Polydor this way?
Pag.
Madam, just now.
Mon.
Sure some ill Fate's upon me.
Distrust and heaviness sits round my heart,
And Apprehension shocko my timerous Soul.
Why was I not lain in my peaceful Grave
With my poor Parents? and at Rest as they are?
Instead of that I am wand'ring into cares.
Castalio! oh Castalio! thou hast caught
My foolish heart; and like a tender Child,
That trusts his play-thing to another hand,
I fear its harm, and fain would have it back.
Come near Cordelio, I must chide you, Sir.
Pag.
Why, Madam, have I done you any wrong?
Mon.
I never see you now; you have been kinder;
Sate by my Bed, and sung me pretty Songs:
Perhaps I've been ungrateful, here's Mony for you:
Will you oblige me? shall I see you oft'ner!
Pag.
Madam, indeed I'd serve you with my Soul;
But in a morning when you call me to you,
As by your bed I stand and tell you stories,
I am asham'd to see your swelling Breasts,
It makes me blush, they are so very white.
Mon.
Oh men for flattery and deceit renown'd!
Thus when y'are young, ye learn it all like him,
Till as your years encrease, that strengthens too,
T'undo poor Maids and make our ruin easie.
Tell me, Cordelio, for thou hast oft heard
[Page 8] Their friendly Converse and their bosome secrets;
Sometimes at least, have they not talkt of me?
Pag.
Oh Madam! very wickedly they have talkt:
But I'm afraid to name it, for they say
Boys must be whipt that tell their Masters secrets.
Mon.
Fear not, Cordelio! it shall ne're be known;
For I'll preserve the secret as 'twere mine:
Polydor cannot be so kind as I.
I'll furnish thee for all thy harmless sports
VVith pretty Toys, and thou shalt be my Page
Pag.
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!
VVhat must I do?
Mon.
Inform me how th' hast heard
Castalio and his Brother use my Name?
Pag.
VVith all the tenderness of Love,
You were the Subject of their last discourse.
At first I thought it would have Fatal prov'd
But as the one grew hot the other coold,
And yielded to the frailty of his Friend;
At last, after much strugling 'twas resolv'd.
Mon.
VVhat, good Cordelio?
Pag.
Not to quarrel for you.
Mon.
I would not have 'em, by my dearest hopes,
I would not be the argument of strife.
But surely my Castalio wo'nt forsake me,
And make a Mockery of my easie Love.
VVent they together?
Pag.
Yes, to seek you, Madam.
Castalio promis'd Polydor to bring him,
VVhere 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.
VVas not Castalio very loth to yield it,
Or was it Polydor's unruly Passion,
That heighten'd the debate?
Pag.
The fault was Polydor's,
Castalio play'd with love and smiling shew'd
[Page 9] The pleasure, not the pangs of his desire.
He said no Womans smiles shou'd buy his Freedom;
And Marriage is a mortifying thing.
Mon.
Then am I ruin'd, if Castalio's false,
Where is their Faith, or Honour to be found?
Ye Gods, that Guard the Innocent, and guid
The weak; protect, and take me to your care.
Oh! but I love him: There's the Rock will wrack me!
Why was I made with all my Sexes 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 Polydor.
He comes, the Conquerour comes! lye 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 purpos'd
To abuse me palpably? What means this usage?
Why am I left with Polydor 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 stay'd, and I been hear'd.
Cast.
I could for ever hear thee; but this time
Matters of such odd circumstances press me,
That I must go—
Mon.
Then go; and if 't be possible, for ever,
Ex. Cast▪
Well, my Lord Polydor, I guess your business,
And read the ill-natur'd purpose in your eyes.
Pol.
If to desire you more than Misers Wealth,
Or dying men an hour of added life,
[Page 10] If softest Wishes, and a heart more true,
Than ever suffer'd yet for love disdain'd,
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 wander'd up and down,
Forlorn, and silent as his Vassal Beasts;
But when a Heav'n-born Maid, like you, appear'd,
Strange pleasures fill'd his eyes, and fir'd his heart,
Unloos'd his Tongue, and his first talk was Love.
Mon.
The first created pair, indeed, were blest;
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 glande they send
Darts through my Soul, and almost gives enjoyment.
Mon.
How can you labour thus for my undoing?
I must confess, indeed, I owe you more,
Than ever I can hope to think to pay.
There alwayes▪ was a Friendship 'twixt our Families;
And therefore when my tender Parents dy'd,
Whose ruin'd Fortunes too expir'd with them,
Your Fathers pity and his Bounty took me
A poor and helpless Orphan to his care.
Pol.
'Twas Heav'n ordain'd it so to make me happy.
Hence with this peevish Vertue, 'tis a cheat,
And those who caught it first, were Hypocrites;
Come, these soft tender Limbs were made for yielding.
Mon.
Here on my kqees by heav'ns blest powr'r I swear,
kneels.
If you persist, I never henceforth will see you
But rather wander through the world a begger,
And live on sordid scraps at proud mens doors;
For though to Fortune lost, I'll still inherit
My Mothers Vertues and my Fathers honours.
Pol.
[Page 11]Intolerable Vanity! your Sex
VVas never in the right; y'are alwayes false,
Or silly; even your dresses are not more
Fantastick than your appetites! you think
Of nothing twice! Opinion you have none.
To day y'are nice, to morrow not so free,
Now Smile, then Frown; now sorrowful, then glad,
Now pleas'd, now not; and all you know not why;
Vertue you affect, Inconstancy's your practice,
And when your loose desires once get dominion,
No hungry Churle feeds courser at Feast,
Every rank Fool goes down—
Mon.
Indeed, my Lord,
I own my Sexes follies, I have 'em all,
And to avoid it's faults must fly from you,
Therefore believe me, cou'd you raise me high,
As most fantastick VVomans wish could reach,
And lay all Natures Riches at my feet,
I'd rather run a Salvage in the VVoods
Amongst brute Beasts, grow wrinckled and deform'd,
As wildness and most rude neglect could make me,
So I might still enjoy my honour safe,
From the destroying wiles of faithless man.
Ex. Mon.
Pol.
VVho'd be that sordid foolish thing call'd man,
To cringe thus, fawn, and flatter for a pleasure,
VVhich Beasts enjoy so very much above him:
The lusty Bull ranges through all the Field,
And from the Herd singling his Female out,
Enjoyes her, and abandons her at VVill.
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 abroad,
And brought in wanton wishes to her heart;
I'th' very minute when her Vertue nods,
I'll rush upon her in a storm of Love,
Bear down her guard of Honour all before me,
Surfeit on Joys till even desire grows sick:
Then by long Absence liberty regain
And quite forget the pleasure and the pain.
Ex. Pol. and Page.
ACT II. SCENE I.
Enter Acasto, Castalio, Polydor, Attendants.
Acast.
TO Day has been a Day of Glorious sport.
VVhen you, Castalio, and your Brother left me,
Forth from the Thickets rusht another Boar,
So large, he seem'd the Tyrant of the VVoods
VVith all his dreadful Bristles rais'd up high
They seem'd a Grove of spears upon his Back;
Foaming he came at me, where I was posted,
Best to observe which way hee'd lead the Chace,
VVhetting his huge long Tusks, and gaping wide,
As if he already had me for his prey;
Till brandishing my well poys'd Javelin high,
VVith this cold Executing arm, I struck
The ugly brindled Monster to the heart.
Cast.
The Actions of your life were always wond'rous.
Acast.
No flattery, Boy! an honest man cant't live by't,
It is a little sneaking Art, which Knaves
Use to Cajole and soften Fools withall
If thou half flatt'ry in thy Nature, out with't,
Or send it to a Court, for there 'twill thrive.
Pol.
VVhy there?
Acast.
'Tis next to mony current there,
To be seen daily in as many forms,
As there are sorts of Vanities, and Men;
The superstitious States-man has his sneer,
To smooth a poor man off with that can't bribe him;
The grave dull fellow of small business sooths
The Humorist, and will needs admire his VVit:
VVho without spleen could see a hot-brain'd Atheist
Thanking a surly Doctor for his Sermon,
Or a Grave Councellor meet a smooth young Lord,
Squeeze him by the hand, and praise his good Complexion.
Pol.
Courts are the places where best manners flourish,
VVhere the deserving ought to rise, and Fools
Make show. Why should I vex and chafe my spleen,
To see a gawdy Coxcomb shine, when I
Have seen enough to sooth him in his follies,
[Page 13] And ride him to advantage as I please?—
Acast.
VVho merit ought indeed to risei'th world,
But no wise man that's honest should expect.
VVhat man of sense would rack his generous mind,
To practice all the base Formalities
And forms of business, force a grave starch't face,
VVhen he's a very Libertine in's heart?
Seem not to know this or that man in publick,
VVhen privately perhaps they meet together,
And lay the Scene of some brave Fellows Ruin.
Such things are done—
Cast
Your Lordships wrongs have been
So great that you with Justice may complain;
But suffer, us whose younger minds ne're felt
Fortunes deceits, to Court her as she'd fair.
VVere she a Common Mistress, kind to all,
Her worth would cease, and half the world grow idle.
Acast.
Go to, y'are Fools, and know me not, I've learnt
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, preserments noblest Mart,
VVhere 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 bloud in their dear Countries service,
Yet now pine under want, while selfish slaves,
That ev'n would cut their throats, whom now they fawn on,
Like deadly Locusts eat the Honey up,
Which those industrious Bees so hardly toyl'd for?
Cast.
These precepts suit not with my Active mind,
Methinks I would be busie.
Pol.
So would I,
Not loyter out my life at home, and know
No farther than one prospect gives me leave.
Acast.
Busie your minds then, study Arts and Men:
Learn how to value Merits though in Rags,
And scorn a proud ill-manner'd Knave in Office.
Ser.
My Lord, my Father!
Acast.
Blessings on my Child,
My little Cherub, what hast thou to ask me?
Ser.
I bring you, Sir, most glad and welcome news,
The Young Chamont, whom you've so often wisht for,
Is just arriv'd and entring.
Acast.
By my Soul,
And all my honours, he's most clearly welcome,
Let me receive him like his Fathers Friend.
Enter Chamont.
Welcome thou Relick of the best lov'd man,
VVelcome from all the Turmoiles, and the hazards
Of certain danger, and uncertain Fortune,
VVelcome as happy Tidings after Fears,
Cham.
VVords would but wrong the gratitude I owe you:
Should I begin to speak, my soul's so full,
That I should talk of nothing else all day.
Mon.
My Brother!
Cha.
Oh my Sister! let me hold thee
Long in my Armes, I've not beheld thy Face
These many days, by night I've often seen thee
In gentle Dreams, and satisfied my soul
VVith fancy'd Joy, till morning cares awak'd me.
Another Sister, sure it must be so;
Though I remember well, I had but one:
But I feel something in my heart that prompts,
And tells me she has claim and interest there.
Acast.
Young Souldier, you've not only study'd VVar,
Courtship I see has been your practice too,
And may not prove unwelcome to my Daughter.
Cha.
Is she you Daughter? then my heart told true!
And I'm at least her Brother by Adoption.
For you have made your self to me a Father,
And by that Patent I have leave to love her.
Ser.
Monimia, thou hast told me, men are false,
[Page 15] VVill 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 pow'r,
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 Brith-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
T'attend a Fav'rites heels, and watch his smiles,
Bear an ill Office done me to my Face,
And thank the Lord that wrong'd me for his favour.
Acast.
This you could do.
To his Sons.
Cast.
I'd serve my Prince.
Acast.
who'd serve him.
Castal.
I would, my Lord.
Pol.
And I both would.
Acast.
Away,
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're 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 Fortune here at home.
And serve him with my person in his wars.
Watch for him, fight for him, bleed for him.
Pol.
Dye for him,
As every true bron loyal Subject ought.
Acast.
Let me embrace ye both. Now by the souls
Of my brave Ancestoss, I'm truly happy,
For this be ever blest my Marriage-day
Blest be your mothers memory that bore you,
And doubly blest be that auspicious hour,
That gave the birth. Yes, my aspiring Boys,
Ye shall have business when your master wants you,
You cannot serve a nobler. I have serv'd him
[Page 16] In this old body yet the marks remain
Of many wounds. I've with this Tongue proclaim'd
His right even in the face of ranck Rebellion,
And when a foul mouth'd Traytor once prophan'd
His sacred name, with my good Sabir drawn
Ev'n at the head of all his giddy rout
I rusht and Clove the Rebel to the Chine.
Enter Servant.
Ser.
My Lord, the expected Guests are just arriv'd.
Acast.
Go you, and give 'em Welcome and Reception.
Cham.
My Lord, I stand in need of your assistance
In something that concerns my Peace and Honour.
Acast.
Spoke like the Son of that brave man I lov'd;
So freely frinedly we converst together.
What e're it be with confidence impart it,
Thou shalt command my Fortune and my Sword.
Cham.
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!
Acast.
Prithee, no more of that, it grates my Nature.
Cha.
When our dear Parents dy'd, they dy'd together,
One Fate surpriz'd 'em, and one Grave receiv'd 'em:
My Father with his dying breath bequeath'd
Her to my Love: my Mother as she lay
Languishing by him, call'd me to her side,
Took me in her fainting Arms, wept, and embrac'd me,
Then prest me close, and as she observ'd my Tears,
Kist 'em away, said she, Chamont my Son,
By this and all the Love I ever shew'd thee
Be careful of Monimia, watch her Youth,
Let not her wants betray her to dishonour.
Perhaps kind Heav'n may raise some friend.
Then sigh'd.
Kist me again; so blest us, and expir'd,
Pardon my grief.
Acast.
It speaks an honest Nature.
Cham.
The Friend Heav'n rais'd was you, you took her up
An Infant to the desart world expos'd,
And prov'd another Parent.
Acast.
[Page 17]I've not wrong'd her.
Cha.
Far be it from my Fears.
Acast.
Then why this Argument?
Cham.
My Lord, my Nature's jealous, and you'l bear it.
Acast.
Go on.
Cha.
Great Spirits bear misfortunes hardly,
Good Offices claim gratitude, and Pride,
Where Pow'r is wanting, will usurp a little,
May make us (rather than be thought behind hand)
Pay over-price.
Acast.
I cannot guess your dirft;
Distrust you me?
Cham.
No, but I fear her weakness
May make her pay a debt at any rate:
And to deal freely with your Lordships goodness,
I've heard a story lately much disturbs me.
Acast.
Then first charge her; and if 'th' offence be found
Within my reach, tho' it shou'd touch my Nature
In my own Off-spring, by the dear remembrance
Of thy brave Father whom my heart's rejoye'd in,
I'd prosecute it with severest Vengeance.
Cham.
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 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 my self a Brother,
A tender loving and an honest Brother,
Y'ave not forgot our Father!
Mon.
I shall never.
Cha.
Then you'l remember too, he was a man,
That liv'd up to the Standard of his Honour,
[Page 18] And priz'd 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 manag'd nicely;
Now if by any chance, Monimia,
You have soyl'd this gem and taken from it's value,
How will y' 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 sturck to my heart, cold sweat
Dew'd all my Face, and trembling seiz'd my Limbs,
My Bed shook under me, the Curtains started,
And to my tortur'd Fancy there appear'd
The form of Thee thus Beautious as thou art,
Thy garments flowing loose, and in each hand
A wanton Lover, which by turns caress'd thee
With all the freedom of unbounded pleasure:
I snatcht my Sword and in the very Moment
Darted it at the Fantome, strait it left me:
Then rose and call'd for lights, when, O Dire Omen!
If found my weapon had the arras pierc'd,
Just where that famous tale was interwoven,
How th' unhappy Theban slew his Father.
Mon.
And for this cause my Vertue is suspected!
Becasue in Dreams your Fancy has been ridden,
I must be tortur'd waking!
Cha.
Have a care,
Labour not to be justified too fast,
Hear all, and then let Justice hold the scale;
What follow'd was the Riddle that confounds me;
Through a close Lane as I pursu'd my Journey,
And meditated on the last nights Vision,
[Page 19] I spy'd a wrinckled Hagg, with Age grown double,
Picking dry sticks, and mumbling to her self;
Her eyes with scalding Rhume were gall'd and red;
Cold Palsy shook her head, her hands seem'd wither'd,
And on her crooked shoulders had she wrapt
The tatter'd Remnant of an old stript hanging,
Which serv'd to keep her carkass from the cold,
So there was nothing of a piece about her;
Her lower weeds were all o're coursely patch'd
With diff'rent colour'd Rags, black, red, white, yellow;
And seem'd to speak variety of wretchedness;
I askt her of my way, which she inform'd me;
Then crav'd my Charity, and bad me hasten
To save a Sister: at that word I started.
Mon.
The Common cheat of Beggers every day!
They flock about our doors, pretend to Gifts
Of prophecy, and telling Fools their Fortunes▪
Cer,
Oh! but she told me such a Tale, Monimia,
As in it bore great circumstance of truth;
Castalio, and Polydor, my Sister.
Mon.
Hah!
Cha.
What alter'd! does your courage fail you!
Now by my Fathers Soul the Witch was honest;
Answer me, if thou hast not lost to them
Thy Honour at a fordid Game.
Mon.
I Will,
I must; so hardly my Misfortune loads me,
That both have offer'd me their Loves most true.
Cha.
And 'tis as true too, they have both undone Thee.
Mon.
Though they both with earnest Vows
Have prest my heart, if e're in thought I yielded
To any but Castalio!
Cha.
But Castalio!
Mon.
Still will you cross the Line of my Discourse!
Yes, I confess that he has won my Soul
By generous Love and honourable Vows,
Which he this day appointed to compleat,
And make himself by holy Marriage mine.
Cha.
Art thou then spotless? hast thou still preferv'd
Thy Vertue white without a blot untainted.
Mon.
[Page 20]When I'm unchast, 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,
And let not Marriage bait thee to thy Ruin.
Trust not a man; we are by Nature false,
Dissembling, subtle, cruel, and unconstant:
When a Man talks of Love, with caution trust him;
But if he swears, he'l certainly deceive thee;
I charge thee let no more Castalio sooth Thee.
Avoid it as thou wouldst preserve the peace
Of a poor Brother, to whose soul th'art 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 easie.
Ex. Cha.
Mon.
Yes, I will try him, torture him severely:
For, oh Castalio! thou too much hast wrong'd me,
In leaving me to Polydor's ill usage.
He comes, and now for once, oh Love stand Neuter,
Whilst a hard part's perform'd! For I must tempt,
Wound his soft Nature, though my own Heart akes for't.
Ex.
Enter Castalio.
Cast.
Monimia, Monimia, she's gone:
And seem'd 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 chastis'd at will.
'Twas not well done to trifle with my Brother:
I might have trusted him with all the secret,
Open'd my silly heart and shewn it bare,
But then he loves her too; but not like me,
I am a doating honest Slave, design'd
For Bondage, Marriage bonds, which I've sworn
To wear: It is the onely thing I e're
Hid from his knowledge; and he'l sure forgive
The first Transgression of a wretched Friend
Betray'd to Love and all its little follies.
[Page 21] Enter Polydore, and Page at the door.
Pol.
Here place your self, and watch my Brother throughly:
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.
Ex. Pol
Enter Monimia.
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 desart,
And I, methinks, am Salvago 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. Haena makes her moan,
To draw the pitying Traveller to her Den;
Your sex are so, such false dissemblers all,
With sighs and plaints y'entice poor Womens hearts,
And all that pity you, are made your Prey.
Cast.
What means my Love? oh how have I deserv'd
This language from the Soveraign of my Joyes!
Stop, stop those Tears, Monimia, for they fall
Like baneful dew from a distempored sky,
I feel 'em chill me to the very heapt.
Mon.
Oh you are false, Castalio, most forlorn,
Attempt no farther to delude my Faith,
My heart is fixt, and you shall shake'r no more.
Cast.
Who told you so? What Hell-bred Villain durst
Prophane the Sacred Business of my Love▪
Mon.
Your Brother knowing on what terms I'm here,
Th' unhappy Object of your Fathers Charity▪
Licentiously discours'd to me of Love,
And durst affront me with his brutal Passion.
Cast.
'Tis I have been to blame, and only I,
[Page 22] False to my Brother and unjust to Thee.
For, oh! he loves Thee too, and this day own'd it,
Taxt me with mine and claim'd aright 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,
Seem'd to comply with his unruly will;
Talkt as he talk't, and granted all he ask't;
Lest he in Rage might have our Loves betray'd,
And I for ever had Monimia lost.
Mon.
Could you then? did you? can you own it too?
'Twas poorly done, unworthy of your self,
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,
Whilst greedily we snatch th' alluring Bait,
And ne're distrust the poyson that it hides.
Mon.
When Love ill plac'd 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 soften'd, when he would betray:
Like conquering Tyrants, you our Breasts invade,
Where you are pleas'd to forrage for a While,
But soon you find new conquests out, and leave
The ravag'd Province ruinate and waste.
If so, Castalio, you have serv'd my heart,
I find that Desolation's settled there,
And I shall ne're recover Peace again.
Cast.
Who can hear this and bear an equal mind!
Since you will drive me from you, I must go;
But, oh Monimia, when th' hast banisht me,
No creeping slave, though tractable and dull,
As artful Woman for her ends would chuse,
Shall ever dote as I have done; for oh!
No Tongue my Pleasure nor my Pain can tell:
[Page 23] 'Tis Heav'n to have Thee, and without Thee Hell.
Mon.
Castalio! stay! we must not part. I find
My Rage ebbs out, and Love flows in apace;
These little Quarrels Love must needs forgive,
They rouse up drowsie thoughts, and wake the Soul.
Oh! charm me with the Musick of thy Tongue,
I'm ne're so blest, as when I hear thy Vows,
And listen to the Language of thy Heart.
Cast.
Where am I! surely Paradise is round me!
Sweets planted by the hand of Heaven grow here,
And every sence is full of thy Perfection.
To hear thee speak might calm a mad-mans Frenzy,
Till by attention he forgot his sorrows;
But to behold thy Eyes, th' amazing Beauties,
Might make him rage again with Love as I do.
To touch thee's Heav'n, but to enjoy thee oh!
Thou Natures whole perfection in one piece!
Sure framing thee Heav'n took unusual care,
As its own Beauty it design'd thee Fair;
And form'd thee by the best lov'd Angel there.
Ex.
ACT III. SCENE I.
Enter Polydor, and Page.
Pol.
WEre they so kind? Express it to me all
In words may make me think I saw it too.
Pag.
At first I thought they had been mortal Foes;
Monimia rag'd, Castalio grew disturb'd,
Each thought the other wrong'd, yet both so haughty,
They scorn'd submission; though Love all the while
The Rebel plaid, and scarce could be contain'd.
Pol.
But what succeeded?
Pag.
Oh 'twas wondrous pretty!
For of a sudden all the Storm was past,
A gentle calm of Love succeeded in;
Monimia sigh'd and blusht, Castalio swore▪
As you, my Lord, I well remember did
To my young Sister in the Orenge-Grove,
[Page 24] When I was first prefer'd to be your Page.
Pol.
Happy Castalio! Now by my Great Soul,
M' Ambitious Soul, that Languishes to glory,
I'll have her yet, by my best hopes I will.
She shall be mine in spight of all her Arts.
But for Castalio why was I refus'd?
Has he supplanted me by some foul play,
Traduc'd my Honour? Death! he durst not do't.
It must be so: we parted and he met her,
Half to compliance brought by me, surpriz'd
Her sinking Vertue till she yielded quite,
So Poachers basely pick up tir'd Game,
Whilst the fair Hunter's cheated of his Prey.
Boy!
Pag.
My Lord!
Pol.
Go to your Chamber and prepare your Lute;
Find out some Song to please me, that discribes
Womans Hypocrisies, their subtle wiles,
Betraying smiles, feign'd tears, inconstancies,
Their painted outsides, and corrupted minds,
The sum of all their follies, and their falshoods.
Enter Servant.
Serv.
Oh the unhappyest Tydings Tongue e're told!
Pol.
The matter!
Serv.
Oh! your Father, my good Master,
As with his Guests he sat in mirth rais'd high,
And chas'd the Goblins round the joyful Board,
A sudden trembling seiz'd on all his Limbs:
His Eyes distorted grew; His Visage pale,
His Speech forsook him; Life it self seem'd fled,
And all his Friends are waiting now about him.
Enter Acasto leaning on Two.
Acast.
Support me, give me Air, I'll yet recover.
'Twas but a slip decaying Nature made,
For she grows weary near her Journeys end.
Where are my Sons? come near, my Polidore,
[Page 25] Your Brother! where's Castalio?
Serv.
My Lord,
Iv'e search'd, as you commanded, all the house,
He or Monimia are not to be found.
Acast.
Not to be found, then where are all my Friends? 'tis well,
I hope they'll pardon an unhappy fault
M'unmannerly infirmity has made.
Death could not come in a more welcome hour,
For I'm prepar'd to meet him, and methinks
Would live and dye with all my Friends about me.
Enter Castalio.
Castal.
Angels preserve my dearest Father's Life,
Bless it with long and uninterrupted days!
Oh! may he live till time it self decay,
Till good men wish him dead, or I offend him!
Acast.
Thank you, Castalio; give me both your hands,
And bear me up, I'd walk: so, now methinks
I appear as great as Hercules himself,
Supported by the Pillars he had rais'd.
Cast.
My Lord, your Chaplain.
Acast.
Let the good man enter.
Cast.
Heaven guard your Lordship and restore your Health!
Acast.
I have provided for thee, if I dye.
No fawning! 'tis a scandal to thy Office.
My Sons, as thus united ever live,
And for the Estate, you'll find when I am dead
I have divided it betwixt you both
Equally parted, as you shared my love;
Only to sweet Monimia I've bequeath'd
Ten thousand Crowns, a little Portion for her,
To wed her honourably as she's born.
Be not less Friends because you're Brother; shun
The man that's singular, his mind's unsound,
His Spleen o're-weighs his Brains, but above all
Avoid the politick, the factious Fool,
The busie, buzzing, talking, hardn'd Knave;
The quaint, smooth Rogue, that sins against his Reason;
Calls sawcy loud Suspicion, publick Zeal,
[Page 26] And Mutiny the Dictates of his spirit.
Be very careful how ye make new Friends,
Men read not Morals now, 'twas a Custom,
But all are to their Fathers Vices born:
And in their Mothers Ignorance are bred.
Let Marriage be the last mad thing ye doe,
For all the Sins and Follies of the past.
If you have Children, never give them knowledge,
'Twill spoil their Fortune, Fools are all the fashion.
If y'ave Religion, keep it to your selves,
Atheists will else make use of Toleration,
And laugh ye out on't, never shew Religion
Except ye mean to pass for Knaves of Conscience,
And cheat believing Fools that think ye honest.
Serin.
My Father!
Acasto.
My heart's Darling!
Serina.
Let my Knees
Fix to the Earth. Ne're let my Eyes have rest,
But wake and weep till Heaven restore my Father!
Acast.
Rise to my Arms, and thy kind prayers are answer'd,
For thou'rt a wondrous extract of all Goodness,
Born for my joy, and no pain's felt when near thee.
Chamont!
Cham.
My Lord, may't prove not an unlucky Omen!
Many I see are waiting round about you:
And I am come to ask a Blessing too.
Acasto.
May'st thou be happy!
Cham.
Where?
Acast.
In all thy wishes!
Cham.
Confirm me so, and make this Fair One mine,
I am unpractis'd in the Trade of Courtship;
And know not how to deal Love out with Art.
Onsets in Love seem best like those in War,
Fierce, resolute, and done with all the force.
So I would open my whole heart at once,
And pour out the abundance of my Soul.
Acast.
What says Serina? canst thou love a Souldier?
One born to Honour and to Honour bred;
One that has learnt to treat ev'n Foes with kindness;
To wrong no good mans Fame nor praise himself.
Serin.
[Page 27]Oh! name not Love, for that's ally'd to joy,
And joy must be a stranger to my heart,
When you're in danger. May Chamonts good Fortune
Render him lovely to some happier Maid!
Whilst I at Friendly distance see him blest,
Praise the kind Gods and wonder at his Virtues.
Acast.
Chamont, pursue her, conquer, and possess her,
And as my Son a third of all my Fortune
Shall be thy Lot.
But keep thy Eyes from wandring man of frailty,
Beware the dangerous Beauty of the wanton,
Shun their enticements; Ruin like a Vulture
Waits on their Conquests: Falsehood too's their business,
They put false Beauty off to all the World;
Use false endearments to the Fools that love 'em,
And when they marry to their silly Husbands,
They bring false Virtue, broken Fame, and Fortune.
Monim.
Hear ye that, my Lord?
Polyd.
Yes, my fair Monitor, old men always talk thus.
Acast.
Chamont, you told me of some doubts that prest you.
Are you yet satisfied that I am your Friend?
Cham.
My Lord, I would not lose that satisfaction
For any blessing I could wish for.
As to my fears already I have lost 'em;
They ne're shall vex me more, nor trouble you.
Acast.
I thank you: Daughter, you must do so too.
My Friends 'tis late, or we would yet be company
For my disorder seems all past and over,
And I methinks begin to feel new health.
Cast.
Would you but rest, it might restore you quite.
Acast.
Yes, I'll to Bed; old men must humour weakness.
Let me have Musick then to lull and chase
This melancholly thought of Death away,
Good-night! my Friends, Heaven guard ye all! good night!
To morrow early we'll salute the day,
Find out new pleasures, and redeem lost time.
Ex. all but Chamont and Chaplain.
Cham.
Hist, hist, Sir Gravity, a word with you.
Chap.
With me, Sir?
Cham.
If you're at leasure, Sir, we'll wast an hour,
[Page 28] 'Tis yet too soon to sleep, and 'twill be charity
To lend your Conversation to a Stranger,
Chap.
Sir, you are a Souldier?
Cham.
Yes.
Chap.
I love a Souldier,
And had been one my self, but my old Parents
Would make me what you see of me, yet I'm honest
For all I wear black.
Cham.
And that's a wonder,
Have you had long dependance on this Family?
Chap.
I have not thought it so, because my time's
Spent pleasantly, My Lord's not haughty nor imperious,
Nor I gravely whimsical, he has good nature,
And I have manners;
His Sons too are civil to me, because
I do not pretend to be wiser than they are;
I meddle with no mans business but my own;
I rise in a morning early, study moderately,
Eat and drink chearfully, live soberly,
Take my innocent pleasures freely,
So I meet with respect, and am not the jest of the Family▪
Cham.
I'm glad you are so happy:
A pleasant fellow this, and may be useful.
Knew you my Father the old Chamont?
Chap.
I did, and was most sorry when we lost him.
Cham.
Why? didst thou love him?
Ch.
Ev'ry body lov'd him; besides he was my masters Friend▪
Cham.
I could Embrace thee for that very Notion.
If thou didst love my Father I could think
Thou wouldst not be an Enemy to me.
Chap.
I can be no mans Foe.
Cham.
Then prithee tell me;
Thinkst thou the Lord Castalio loves my Sister?
Nay, never start. Come, come, I know thy Office
Opens thee all the Secrets of the Family.
Then if thou art honest, use this Freedom kindly.
Chap.
Love your Sister?
Cham.
Ay, Love her.
Chap.
Sir, I never askt him.
And wonder you should ask it me.
Cham.
Nay, but th'art an Hypocrite: is there not one,
[Page 29] Of all thy Tribe that's honest in your Schools?
The pride of your Superiours makes ye Slaves:
Ye all live loathsome sneaking servile lives;
Not free enough to practise generous Truth,
Though ye pretend to teach it to the World.
Chap.
I would deserve a better thought from you.
Cham.
If thou would'st have me not contemn thy Office
And Character, think all thy Brethren Knaves,
Thy Trade a Cheat, and thou its worst Professour;
Inform me; for I tell thee, Priest, I'll know.
Chap.
Either he loves her, or he much has wrong'd her.
Cham.
How wrong'd her? have a care: for this may lay
A Scene of mischief to undo us all.
But tell me, wrong'd her say'dst thou?
Chap.
Ay, Sir, wrong'd her.
Cham.
This is a secret worth a Mon archs Fortune:
What shall I give thee for't? thou dear Physitian
Of sickly Souls, unfold this Riddle to me,
And comfort mine,—
Chap.
I would hide nothing from you willingly.
Cha.
Nay, then again thou'rt honest. Would'st thou tell me?
Chap.
Yes, If I durst.
Cham.
Why, what affrights thee?
Chap.
You do,
VVho are not to be trusted with the Secret.
Cham,
VVhy, I am no Fool.
Chap.
So indeed you say.
Cham.
Prithee, be serious then.
Chap.
You see I am so,
And hardly shall be mad enough to Night,
To trust you with my Ruin.
Cham.
Art thou then
So far concern'd in't? What has been thy Office?
Curse on that formal steady Villains Face!
Just so do all Bawds look; Nay, Bawds they say
Can pray upon occasion, talk of Heav'n,
Turn up their Gogling Eye-balls, rail at Vice,
Dissemble, lye, and preach like any Priest.
Art thou a Bawd?
Chap.
Sir, I'm not often us'd thus.
Cham.
Be just then.
Chap.
[Page 30]So I will be to the trust
That's laid upon me.
Cham.
By the rev'renc'd Soul
Of that great honest man that gave me Being,
Tell me but what thou know'st concerns my Honour,
And if I e're reveal it to thy wrong,
May this good Sword ne're do me right in Battel!
May I ne're know that blessed peace of mind,
That dwells in good and pious men like thee!
Chap.
I see your temper's mov'd, and I will trust you.
Cham.
Wilt thou?
Chap.
I will; but if it ever 'scape you—
Cham.
It never shall.
Chap.
Swear then.
Cham.
I do, by all
That's dear to me, by th' Honour of my Name,
And that Power I serve, it never shall.
Chap.
Then this good day, when all the house was busie,
When mirth and kind rejoycing fill'd each Room,
As I was walking in the Grove I met them.
Cham.
VVhat met them in the Grove together? tell me.
How? walking, standing, sitting, lying? hah!
Chap.
I by their own appointment met them there,
Receiv'd their Marriage vows and joyn'd their hands.
Cham.
How! married!
Chap.
Yes, Sir.
Cham.
Then my Soul's at peace:
But why would you delay so long to give it?
Chap.
Not knowing what reception it may find
With old Acasto, may be I was too Cautious
To trust the secret from me.
Cham.
What's the cause
I cannot guess, though 'tis my Sisters Honour,
I do not like this Marriage
Hudl'd i'th' dark and done at too much Venture:
The business looks with an unlucky Face.
Keep still the secret; for it ne're shall 'scape me,
Not ev'n to them, the new matcht Paire. Farewell.
Believe my Truth and know me for thy Friend.
Exeunt.
Cast.
Young Chamont, and the Chaplain! sure 'tis they!
No matter what's contriv'd or who consulted,
Since my Monimia's mine; tho' this sad Look
Seems no good boading Omen to our Bliss;
Else, prithee, tell me why that Look cast down?
Why that sad sigh as if thy heart were breaking?
Mon.
Castalio, I am thinking what we've done.
The Heavenly Powers were sure displeas'd to day!
For at the Ceremony as we stood,
And as your Hand was kindly joyn'd with mine,
As the good Priest pronounc't the Sacred Words,
Passion grew bigg and I could not forbear,
Tears drown'd my eyes, and trembling seiz'd my Soul.
What should that mean?
Cast.
Oh thou art tender all!
Gentle and kind, as sympathizing Nature!
When a sad story has been told, I've seen
Thy little breasts with soft Compassion swell'd,
Shove up and down, and heave like dying Birds;
But now let fear be banisht, think no more
Of danger, for there's safety in my Arms;
Let them receive thee: Heav'n, grow Jealous now.
Sure she's too good for any Mortal Creature!
I could grow wild, and praise thee ev'n to madness.
But wherefore do I dally with my Bliss?
The Night's far spent and day draws on apace;
To bed my Love and wake till I come thither.
Pol.
So hot my Brother?
Polydore at the Door.
Mon.
'Twill be impossible:
You know your Fathers Chamber's next to mine,
And the least noise will certainly alarm him.
Cast.
Impossible? Impossible? alas!
Is't possible to live one hour without thee?
Let me behold those Eyes; they'l tell me truth▪
Hast thou no longing? Art thou still the same
Cold Joy Virgin? No; th' art alter'd quite.
[Page 32] Haste, haste to Bed, and let loose all thy wishes.
Mon.
'Tis but one Night, my Lord, I pray be rul'd.
Cast.
Try if th'ast Pow'r to stop a flowing Tide,
Or in a Tempest make the Seas be Calm;
And when that's done I'll Conquer my desires.
No more, my Blessing. What shall be the sign?
When shall I come? Fot to my Joyes I'll steal
As if I ne're had paid my Freedom for them.
Mon.
Just three soft stroakes upon the Chamber door.
And at that Signal you shall gain Admittance:
But speak not the least word; for if you should,
'Tis surely heard and all will be betray'd.
Cast.
Oh! doubt it not Monimia, our Joyes
Shall be as silent as the Extatick bliss
Of Souls, that by Intelligence converse:
Immortal pleasures shall our senses drown;
Thought shall be lost, and every Pow'r dissolv'd:
Away, my Love; first take this kiss. Now haste▪
I long for that to come, yet grudge each minute past.
Ex. Mon.
My Brother wandring too so late this way!
Pol,
Castalio!
Cast.
My Polydore, how dost thou?
How does Our Father? is he well recover'd?
Pol.
I left him happily repos'd to Reft;
He's still as gay as if his life were young.
But how does fair Monimia?
Cast.
Doubtless well.
A Cruel Beauty with her conquests pleas'd
Is always joyful and her mind in health.
Pol.
Is she the same Monimia still she was?
May we not hope she's made of mortal Mould?
Cast.
She's not VVoman else:
Tho' I'm grown weary of this tedious hoping;
VV'ave in a barren desart stray'd too long.
Pol.
Yet may relief be unexpected found,
And Loves sweet Manna cover all the field,
Met ye to day?
Cast.
No, She has still avoided me,
Her Brother too is jealous of her grown,
[Page 33] And has been hinting something to my Father.
I wish I'd never medl'd with the matter,
And would enjoyn thee, Polidore—
Pol.
To what?
Cast.
To leave this Peevish Beauty to her self.
Pol.
What quit my Love? as soon I'd quit my Post
In fight, and like a Coward run away.
No, by my Stars I'll chase her till she yields
To me, or meets her Rescue in Another.
Cast.
Nay, she has Beauty that might shake the Leagues
Of mighty Kings, and set the World at odds;
But I have wond'rous Reasons on my side,
That would perswade thee, were they known.
Pol.
Then speak 'em.
What are they? Came ye to her Window here
To learn 'em now? Castalio, have a care;
Use honest dealing with your Friend and Brother.
Believe me, I'm not with my Love so blinded,
But can discern your purpose to abuse me.
Quit your pretences to her.
Cast.
Grant I do,
You love Capitulation, Polydore,
And but upon Conditions would oblige me.
Pol.
You say, yo've Reasons. Why are they Concealed?
Cast.
To Morrow I may tell you.
It is a matter of such Circumstance,
As I must well Consult e're I reveal:
But, prithee, cease to think I would abuse thee,
Till more be known.
Pol.
When you, Castalio, cease
To meet Monimia unknown to me,
And then deny it slavishly, I'll cease
To think Castalio Faithless to his Friend.
Did I not see you part this very moment?
Cast.
It seems yo've watch't me then?
Pol.
I scorn the Office.
Cast.
Prithee, avoid a thing thou may'st repent.
Pol.
That is henceforward making Leagues with you.
Cast.
Nay, if y'are angry, Polydore, good Night.
Pol.
Good Night, Castalio, if y'are in such haste.
[Page 34] He little thinks I've overheard th' Appointment▪
But to his Chamber's gone to wait a while,
Then come and take possession of my Love.
This is the utmost Point of all my Hope,
Or now she must or never can be mine.
Oh! for a means now how to Counterplot
And disappoint this happy Elder Brother.
In ev'ry thing we do, or undertake,
He soars above me, mount what height I can,
And keeps the start he got of me in Birth.
Cordelio!
Enter Page.
Pag.
My Lord!
Pol.
Come hither, Boy.
Thou hast a pretty forward Lying face,
And may'st in time Expect preferment, canst thou
Pretend to sectesie, Cajole and Flatter
Thy Masters follies and assist his pleasures?
Pag.
My Lord, I could do any thing for you,
And ever be a very Faithful Boy.
Command what e're's you Pleasure, I'll observe.
Be it to run, or watch; or to convey
A Letter to a Beautious Ladys Bosom;
At least I am not dull, and soon should learn.
Pol.
'Iis pity then thou should'st not be employ'd:
Go to my Brother▪ he's in's Chamber now
Undressing and preparing for his rest,
Find out some means to keep him up a while,
Tell him a pretty story that may please
His Ear: Invent a Tale, no matter what.
If he should ask of me, tell him I'm gone
To bed, and sent you there to know his pleasure,
Whether he'l hunt to morrow. Well said, Polydore;
Dissemble with thy Brother: That's one Point;
But do not leave him till he's in his bed;
Or if he Chance to walk again this way,
Follow, and do not quit him, but seem fond▪
To do him little offices of Service.
Perhaps at last it may offend him; then
[Page 35] Retire and wait till I come in. Away:
Succeed in this, and be employ'd again.
Pag.
Doubt not, my Lord: he has been always kind
To me; would often set me on his knees;
Then give me Sweet-Meats, call me pretty Boy,
And askt me what the Maids talkt of at Nights.
Pol.
Run quickly then, and prosperous be thy Wishes.
Ex. Page.
Here I'm alone and fit for mischief; now,
To cheat this brother will't be honest, that
I heard the Sign she order'd him to give.
Oh for the Art of Proteus but to change
The happy Polydore to blest Castalio!
She's not so well acquainted with him yet,
But I may fit her Arms, as well as he.
Then when I'm happily possest of more
Than sense can think, all loosen'd into Joy,
To hear my disappointed brother come,
And give the unregarded Signal; Oh!
What a malicious pleasure will that be!
Just three soft stroaks against the Chamber door,
But speak not the least word, for if you should,
It is surely heard, and we are both betray'd.
How I adore a Mistress that contrives
With care to lay the business of her Joyes!
One that has wit to charm the very Soul,
And give a double relish to delight!
Blest Heav'n, assist me but in this dear hour,
And my kind Starrs be but propitious now;
Dispose of me hereafter as you please.
Monimia! Monimia!
Gives the Sign. (Maid at the Window.)
Whoe's there?
Pol.
'Tis I.
Maid.
My Lord Castalio?
Pol.
The same.
How does my Love, my Dear Monimia.
Maid.
Oh!
She wonders much at your unkind delay,
You've staid so long that at each little Noise
The Wind but makes, she asks if you are coming.
Pol.
[Page 36]Tell her I'm here, and let the door be open'd.
Maid Descends.
Now boast, Castalio, Triumph now and tell
Thy self strange stories of a promis'd Bliss.
The Door unbolts
It opens, hah I what means my trembling flesh!
Limbs, do your Office and support me well.
Bear me to her, then fail me if you can.
Enter Castalio, and Page.
Pag.
Indeed, my Lord, 'twill be a lovely Morning,
Pray let us hunt.
Cast.
Go you're an Idle Pratler,
I'll stay at home to morrow, if your Lord
Thinks fit, he may command my Hounds: go leave me,
I must go to bed.
Pag.
I'll wait upon your Lordship,
If you think fit, and sing you to repose.
Cast.
No, my kind Boy, the night is too far wasted,
My senses too are quite disrob'd of thought,
And ready all with me to go to rest.
Good night: commend me to my Brother.
Pag.
Oh!
You never heard the last new Song I learnt;
It is the finest, prettiest Song indeed,
Of my Lord and my Lady, you know who, that were caught
Together, you know where, My Lord, indeed it is.
Cast.
You must be whipt Youngster, if you get such
Songs as those are. What means
This Boyes impertinence to Night?
Pag.
Why, what must I sing, pray, my dear Lord?
Cast.
Psalms, Child, Psalms.
Pag.
Oh dear me! Boys that go to School learn Psalms, but
Pages that are better bred Sing Lampoons.
Cast.
Well, leave me, I'm weary.
Pag.
Oh! but you promis'd me last time I told you what
Colour my Lady Monimia's stockings were of and that
She garter'd them above knee, that you would give me a little
Horse to go a hunting upon, so you did. I'll tell you no more
Stories, except you keep your word with me.
Cast.
[Page 37]Well, go you Trifler and to morrow ask me.
Pag.
Indeed, my Lord, I can't abide to leave you.
Cast.
Why, wert thou instructed to attend me?
Pag.
No, no, indeed, indeed, my Lord, I was not;
But I know what I know.
Cast.
What dost thou know? Death! what can all this mean?
Pag.
Oh! I know who loves somebody.
Cast.
What's that to me, Boy?
Pag.
Nay, I know who loves you too.
Cast.
That is a wonder, prithee tell it me.
Pag.
Tis—tis—I know who—but will
You give me the Horse then?
Cast.
I will, my Child.
Pag.
It is my Lady Monimia, look you, but don't you
Tell her I told you, She'l give me no more play things then.
I heard her say so as she lay a bed, Man.
Cast.
Talkt she of me when in her bed, Cordelio?
Pag.
Yes, and I sung her the Song you made too.
And she did so sigh, and so look with her Eyes;
And her breasts did so lift up and down; I could have found
In my Heart to have beat 'em, for they made me asham'd.
Cast.
Heark, what's that Noise?
Take this, be gone, and leave me.
Ex. Page.
You Knave, you little flatterer, get you gone.
Surely it was a Noise. Hist—only Fancy.
For all is husht, as Nature were retired,
And the perpetual Motion standing still:
So much she from her work appears to cease,
And every warring Element's at peace,
All the wild Herds are in their Coverts Coucht;
The Fishes to their Banks or Ouze repair'd,
And to the murmurs of the Waters sleep;
The feeling Ayr's at rest and feels no noise,
Except of some soft Breaths among the Trees,
Rocking the hermeless birds that rest upon 'em.
'Tis now that guided by my Love I go,
To take Possession of Monimia's Arms.
Sure Polydore's by this time gone to bed.
At Midnight thus the Us'rer steals untract,
To make a Visit to his hoarded Gold,
[Page 38] And Feast his Eyes upon the shining Mammon:
Knocks.
She heares me not, sure she already sleeps.
Her wishes could not brook my so long Delay,
And her poor heart has beat it self to rest.
Knocks again.
Monimia! my Angel—hah—not yet—
How long's the softest Moment of delay
To a Heart Impatient of it's pangs like mine,
In sight of ease and panting to the Goal.
Knocks again.
Once more—
Maid
Who's there,
That Comes thus rudely to disturb our Rest?
Cast.
'Tis I.
Maid.
Who are you, what's your Name?
Cast.
Suppose
The Lord Castalio.
Maid.
I know you not;
The Lord Castalio has no business here.
Cast.
Hah! have a care, what can this mean!
Who e're thou art, I charge thee to Monimia fly;
Tell her I'm here and wait upon my doom.
Maid.
Who e're you are, you may repent this outrage,
My Lady must not be disturb'd Good Night!
Cast.
She must, tell her she shall, go I'm in haste,
And bring her tydings from the state of Love,
Th'are all in consultation met together,
How to reward my Truth, and Crown her Vows.
Maid.
Sure the man's mad.
Cast.
Or this will make me so,
Obey me, or by all the wrongs I suffer,
I'll scale the Window and come in by force,
Let the sad Consequence be what it will,
This Creatures trifling folly makes me mad.
Maid.
My Ladies answer is, you may depart,
She says she knows you; You are Polydore
Sent by Castalio as you were to day,
T' affront and do her violence again.
Cast.
I'll not believ't.
Maid.
You may, Sir.
Cast.
[Page 39]Curses blast thee!
Maid.
Well, 'tis a fine cool Evening, and I hope
May cure the raging Feaver in your Blood.
Good night!
Casta.
And farewell all that's just in Woman!
This is contriv'd, a studyed Trick to abuse
My easie nature, and torment my mind;
Sure now sh'has bound me fast, and means to Lord it,
To rein me hard, and ride me at her will,
Till by degrees she shape me into Fool.
For all her future use's Death and Torment.
'Tis impudence to think my Soul will bear it.
Oh I could grow ev'n wild, and tear my hair:
'Tis well, Monimia, that thy Empire's short;
Let but to morrow, but to morrow come,
And try if all thy Arts appease my wrong;
Till when be this detested place my Bed,
Layes down.
Where I will ruminate on Womans Ills,
Laugh at my self and curse th' inconstant Sex.
Faithless Monimia! Oh Monimia!
Enter Ernesto.
Ernesto.
Either
My sense has been deluded, or this way
I heard the sound of sorrow, 'tis late night,
And none, whose mind's at peace, would wander now.
Cast.
Who's there?
Ern.
A Friend.
Cast.
If thou art so, retire,
And leave this place, for I would be alone.
Ern.
Castalio! My Lord, why in this posture,
Stretch'd on the Ground? Your honest true old Servant,
Your poor Ernesto cannot see you thus;
Rise I beseech you.
Cast.
If thou art Ernesto,
As by thy honesty thou seemest to be,
Once leave me to my folly.
Ern.
I can't leave you,
And not the reason know of your disorders.
[Page 40] Remember how when young I m my Arms
Have often born you, pleas'd you in your pleasures,
And sought an early share in your Affection.
Do not discard me now, but let me serve you.
Cast.
Thou canst not serve me.
Ern.
Why?
Cast.
Because my thoughts
Are full of Woman, thou poor Wretch, art past'em.
Ern.
I hate the Sex.
Cast.
Then I'm thy Friend Ernesto.
Rises.
I'd leave the world for him that hates a Woman.
Woman the Fountain of all Humane Frailty!
VVhat mighty Ills have not been done by VVoman?
VVho was't betray'd the Capitol? A VVoman.
VVho lost Mark Anthony the VVorld? A Woman.
VVho was the cause of a long ten years War,
And laid as last Old-Troy in Ashes? Woman.
Destructive, damnable, deceitful, Woman.
Woman to Man first as a Blessing giv'n,
VVhen Innocence and Love were in their prime,
Happy a while in Paradise they lay,
But quickly VVoman long'd to go astray,
Some foolish new Adventure needs must prove,
And the first Devil she saw she chang'd her Love,
To his Tempations lewdly she inclin'd
Her Soul, and for an Apple damn'd Mankind.
ACT IV. SCENE I.
Acasto solus.
Acast.
BLest be the morning that has brought me health,
A happy rest has softned pain away,
And I'll forget it, though my mind's not well.
A heavy melancholly cloggs my heart,
I droop and sigh I know not why! Dark-dreams,
Sick Fancies Children, have been over-busie,
And all the Night play'd Farces in my Brains;
Methought I heard the Midnight-Raven cry;
[Page 41] Wak'd with th' imagin'd Noise, my Curtains seem'd
To start, and at my Feet my Sons appear'd
Like Ghosts, all pale and stiff: I strove to speak,
But could not; suddenly the Forms were lost,
And seem'd to vanish in a bloudy Cloud;
'Twas odd, and for the present shook my thoughts;
But was th' effect of my distemper'd bloud;
And when the Health's disturb'd, the mind's unruly.
Enter Polydore.
Good Morning, Polydore.
Pol.
Heaven keep your Lordship.
Acast.
Have you yet seen Castalio to day?
Pol.
My Lord, 'tis early day, he's hardly risen.
Acast.
Go, call him up, and meet me in the Chapel.
Ex. Pol.
I cannot think all has gone well to night;
For as I waking lay (and sure my sense
Was then my own) methought I heard my Son
Castalio's Voice; but it seem'd low and mournful,
Under my Window too I thought I heard it;
M' untoward fancy could not be deceiv'd
In every thing; and I will search the truth out.
Enter Monimia, and her Maid.
Already up Monimia! you Rose
Thus early surely to out-shine the Day!
Or was there any thing that crost your rest!
They were naughty thoughts that wou'd not let you sleep.
Mon.
What ever are my thoughts, my Lord, I've learn't
By your Example to correct their Ills,
And Morn, and Evening, give up th' Account.
Acast.
Your Pardon, Sweet one, I upbraid you not;
Or if I would, you are so good I could not;
Though I'm deceiv'd, or you are more fair to Day;
For Beauty's heighten'd in your Cheeks, and all
Your Charmes seem up, and ready in your Eyes.
Mon.
The little share I have's so very mean,
That it may easily admit Addition;
[Page 42] Though you, my Lord, should most of all beware
To give it too much praise, and make me proud.
Acast.
Proud of an Old mans praises! No Monimia!
But if my Pray'rs can work thee any good,
Thou shalt not want the largest share of 'em:
Heard you no Noise to Night?
Mon.
Noise! my good Lord!
Acast.
Ay! about Midnight.
Mon.
Indeed, my Lord, I do'nt remember any.
Acast.
You must sure! went you early to rest?
Mon.
About the wonted Hour: Why this enquiry?
Aside.
Acast.
And went your Maid to bed too?
Mon.
My Lord, I guess so;
I've seldom known her disobey my Orders.
Acast.
Sure Goblins then, Fairyes haunt the dwelling;
I'll have inquiry made through all the House,
But I'll find out the Cause of these Disorders.
Good Day to thee, Monimia—I'll to Chapel.
Ex. Acasto.
Mon.
I'll but dispatch some orders to my Woman,
And wait upon your Lordship there:
I fear the Priest has plaid us false; if so,
My poor Castalio loses all for me;
I wonder though, he made such haste to leave me!
Was't not unkind, Florella! surely 'twas!
He scarce afforded one kind parting Word,
But went away so cold: The kiss he gave me
Seem'd the forc'd Complement of fated Love.
Would I had never marry'd!
Maid.
Why?
Mon.
Methinks
The Scene's quite alter'd; I am not the same;
I've bound up for my self a weight of Cares,
And how the burden will be born none knows.
A Husband may be Jealous, rigid, false;
And should Castalio e're prove so to me;
So tender is my Heart, so nice my Love,
'Twould ruin, and distract my rest for ever.
Maid.
Madam, he's coming.
Mon.
Where, Florella? where?
[Page 43] Is he returning? To my Chamber lead;
I'll meet him there: The Mysteries of our Love
Should be kept private, as Religious Rites,
From the unhallow'd View of Common Eyes.
Ex. Mon. and Maid.
Enter Castalio.
Cast.
Wish't Morning's come! And now upon the plains
And distant Mountains, where they feed their Flocks,
The happy Shepherds leave their Homely Huts,
And with their Pipes proclaim the new-born day.
The lusty Swain comes with his well-fill'd Scrip
Of Healthful Viands, which, when hunger calls,
With much content, and appetite he eats,
To follow in the Field's his daily Toil,
And dress the grateful Glebe, that yields him Fruits.
The Beasts that under the Warm Hedges slept,
And weather'd out the cold bleak Night, are up,
And looking towards the Neighb'ring Pastures, raise
The Voice, and bid their fellow Bruites good morrow:
The Chearful Birds too, on the tops of Trees,
Assemble all in Quoires, and with their Notes
Salute and welcome up the rising Sun.
There's no Condition sure so curst as mine;
I'm marry'd: 'Sdeath! I am sped. How like a Dog
Lookt Hercules, thus to a Distaff chain'd?
Monimia! oh Monimia!
Enter Monimia; and Maid.
Mon.
I come,
I fly to my ador'd Castalio's Armes,
My wishes Lord. May every Morn begin
Like this: And with our Days our Loves renew.
Now I may hope y'are satisfy'd—
Looking languishingly on him.
Cast.
I am
Well satisfy'd, that thou art—Oh—
Mon.
What? speak:
[Page 44] Art thou not well, Castalio? Come lean
Upon my Breasts, and tell me where's thy pain.
Cast.
'Tis here! 'tis in my Head; 'tis in my Heart,
'Tis every where; It rages like a madness;
And, I most wonder how my reason holds;
Nay, wonder not, Monimia; the Slave
You thought you had secur'd within my Breast,
Is grown a Rebel, and has broke his Chain,
And now he walks there like a Lord at large.
Mon.
Am I not then your VVife, your Lov'd Monimia?
I once was so, or I've most strangely dreamt.
VVhat ayles my Love?
Cast.
VVhat e're thy Dreams have been,
Thy waking thoughts ne're meant Castalio well.
No more, Monimia, of your Sexes Arts,
They are useless all: I'm not that pliant Tool,
That necessary Utensil you'd make me,
I know my Charter better—I am Man,
Obstinate Man; and will not be enslay'd.
Mon.
You shall not fear't: Indeed my Nature's easie;
I'll ever live your most obedient VVife,
Nor ever any priviledge pretend
Beyond your will; for that shall be my Law;
Indeed I will not.
Cast.
Nay, you shall not, Madam,
By yon bright Heav'n, you shall not; all the day
I'll play the Tyrant, and at Night forsake thee;
Till by afflictions and continued Cares,
I've worn thee to a homely household Drudge;
Nay, if I've any too, thou shalt be made
Subservient to all my looser pleasures,
For thou hast wrong'd Castalio.
Mon.
No more:
Oh kill me here, or tell me my offence,
I'll never quit you else; but on these Knees,
Thus follow you all day, till th'are worn bare,
And hang upon you like a drowning Creature.
Castalio.—
Cast.
Away, Last night, last night.
Mon.
It was our wedding Night.
Cast.
[Page 45]No more, forget it.
Mon.
VVhy? do you then repent?
Cast.
I do.
Mon.
Oh Heav'n!
And, will you leave me thus? help, help, Florella.
He draggs her to the Door and breaks from her▪
Help me to hold this yet lov'd cruel Man.
Oh my heart breaks—I'm dying, Oh—stand off,
I'll not indulge this womans weakness; still
Chaft, and Fomented, let my Heart swell on,
Till with its injuries it burst, and shake
VVith the Dire blow, this Prison to the Earth.
Maid.
VVhat sad mistake has been the cause of this?
Mon.
Castalio: Oh! how often has he swore,
Nature should change, the Sun and Stars grow dark,
E're he would falsify his Vows to me.
Make haste, Confusion, then: Sun, lose thy light,
And Stars drop dead with Sorrow to the Earth;
For my Castalio's false—
Maid.
Unhappy Day!
Mon.
False as the VVind, the VVater, or the VVeather.
Cruel as Tygers o're their trembling prey.
I feel him in my breast, he tears my heart,
And at each sigh he drinks the gushing blood;
Must I be long in pain?
Enter Chamont.
Cha.
In tears Monimia!
Mon.
VVho e're thou art,
Leave me alone to my belov'd Despair.
Cham.
Lift up thy Eyes, and see who comes to cheer thee.
Tell me the story of thy VVrongs; and then
See if my soul has rest till thou hast justice.
Mon.
My Brother!
Cham.
Yes, Monimia, if thou thinkst
That I deserve the Name, I am Brother.
Mon.
Oh Castalio!
Cham.
Hah!
Name me that Name again! My Souls on fire,
[Page 46] Till I know all: There's meaning in that name,
I know he is thy Husband: Therefore trust me,
VVith all the following truth—
Mon.
Indeed, Chamont,
There's nothing in it but the fault of Nature:
I'm often thus seiz'd suddenly with grief,
I know not why.
Cham.
You use me ill, Monimia;
And I might think with Justice most severely
Of this unfaithful dealing with your Brother.
Mon.
Truly I am not to blame: Suppose I'm fond,
And grieve, for what as much may please another:
Should I upbraid the dearest Friend on Earth
For the first fault? you wou'd not do so: wou'd you?
Cham.
Not, if I'd cause to think it was a Friend.
Mon.
VVhy do you then call this unfaithful dealing?
I ne're conceal'd my soul from you before:
Bear with me now, and search my wounds no farther,
For every probing pains me to the heart.
Cham.
'Tis sign there's danger in't, and must be prevented.
Where's your new Husband? Still that thought disturbs you.
VVhat, onely answer me with tears? Castalio!
Nay, now they stream.
Cruel unkind Castalio! is't not so?
Mon.
I cannot speak, grief flows so fast upon me,
It choaks and will not let me tell the cause.
Oh!
Cham.
My Monimia, to my Soul thou'rt dear,
As honour to my name: Dear as the light
To eyes but just restor'd, and heald of blindness.
VVhy wilt thou not repose within my breast
The anguish that torments thee?
Mon.
Oh! I dare not.
Cham.
I have no friend but thee: we must confide
In one another: Two unhappy Orphans,
Alas, we are; and when I see thee grieve,
Methinks it is a part of me that suffers.
Mon.
Oh shouldst thou know the cause of my lamenting,
I am satisfy'd, Chamont, that thou wouldst scorn me;
[Page 47] Thou would'st despise the abject lost Monimia,
No more would'st praise this Beauty: but
When in some Cell distracted, as I shall be,
Thou seest me lye; these unregarded Locks,
Matted like Furies Tresses; my poor Limbs
Chain'd to the Ground, and 'stead of the delights
Which happy Lovers taste, my Keeper's stripes,
A Bed of Straw, and a course wooden dish
Of wretched sustenance. When thus thou see'st me,
Prithee have Charity and pity for me.
Let me enjoy this thought.
Cham.
Why wilt thou rack
My Soul so long, Monimia? Ease me quickly;
Or thou wilt run me into madness first.
Mon.
Could you be secret?
Cham.
Secret as the Grave.
Mon.
But when I've told you, will you keep your fury
Within its bounds? will you not do some rash
And horrid mischief? for indeed, Chamont,
You would not think how hardly I've been us'd
Fro [...] a near Friend; from one that has my Soul
A Slave; and therefore treats it like a Tyrant.
Cham.
I will be calm, but has Castalio wrong'd thee?
Has he already wasted all his Love?
What has he done? quickly; for I'am all trembling
With expectation of a horrid Tale.
Mon.
Oh! could you think it!
Cham.
What?
Mon.
I fear he'll kill me.
Cham.
Hah!
Mon.
Indeed I do, he's strangely cruel to me,
Which if it lasts, I'm sure must break my heart.
Cham.
What has he done?
Mon.
Most barbarously us'd me,
Nothing so kind as he, when in my Arms,
In thousand kisses, tender sighs and joys,
Not to be thought again, the night was wasted,
At dawn of day, he rose and left his Conquest,
But when we met, and I with open Arms
Ran to embrace the Lord of all my wishes,
[Page 48] Oh then!—
Cham.
Go on!
Mon.
He threw me from his Breast,
Like a detested sin.
Cham.
How!
Mon.
As I hung too
Upon his Knees, and begg'd to know the cause
He dragg'd me like a Slave upon the Earth,
And had no pity on my Cries.
Cham.
How! did he
Dash thee disdainfully a way with scorn!
Mon.
He did; And more I fear, will ner'e be friends,
Though I still love him with unbated Passion.
Cham.
VVhat, throw thee from him!
Mon.
Yes, indeed he did.
Cham.
So may this Arm
Throw him to the Earth, like a dead Dog despised;
Lameness and Leprosie, Blindness and Lunacy,
Poverty, Shame, Pride, and the name of Villain
Light on me, if, Castalio, I forgive thee:
Mon.
Nay, now Chamont. art thou unkind as he is?
Didst thou not promise me thou would'st be calm?
Keep my disgrace conceal'd? why should'st thou kill him?
By all my Love this Arm should do him Vengeance.
Alas, I love him still; and though I ne're
Clasp him again within these longing Arms,
Yet bless him, bless him (Gods) where e're he goes.
Enter Acasto.
Acast.
Sure some ill Fate is towards me; in my house
I only meet with oddness and disorder;
Each Vassal has a wild distracted face;
And looks as full of business as a block-head
In times of danger: Just this very moment
I met Castalio too—
Cham.
Then you met a Villain.
Acast.
Hah!
Cham.
Yes, a Villain.
Acast.
Have a care, young Souldier,
[Page 49] How thou'rt too busie with Acasto's Fame?
I have a Sword my Arms good old Acquaintance.
Villain, to thee—
Cham.
Curse on thy scandalous Age
Which hinders me to rush upon thy Throat,
And tear the Root up of that Cursed Bramble!
Acast.
Ungrateful Ruffian! sure my good old Friend
Was ne're thy Father; nothing of him's in thee:
What have I done in my unhappy Age,
To be thus us'd? I scorn to upbraid thee, Boy,
But I could put thee in remembrance—
Cham.
Do.
Acast.
I scorn it—
Cham.
No, I'll calmly hear the story,
For I would fain know all, to see which Scale
Weighs most—Hah, is not that good old Acasto?
What have I done? can you forgive this folly?
Acast.
Why dost thou ask it?
Cham.
'Twas the rude over-flowing
Of too much passion; pray, my Lord, forgive me.
kneels.
Acast.
Mock me not, Youth, I can revenge a wrong.
Cham.
I know it well, but for this thought of mine
Pity a mad man's frenzy and forget it.
Acast.
I will, but henceforth, prithee, be more kind.
Raises him.
Whence came the Cause?
Cham.
Indeed I've been to blame,
But I'll learn better; for you've been my Father:
You've been her Father too—
Takes Mon. by the hand.
Acast.
Forbear the Prologue—
And let me know the substance of thy Tale.
Cham.
You took her up a little tender Flower,
Just sprouted on a Bank, which the next Frost
Had nipt; and with a careful loving hand
Transplanted her into your own fair Garden,
Where the Sun always shines; there long she flourish'd,
Grew Sweet to sense, and Lovely to the eye,
Till at the last a Cruel Spoiler came,
Cropt this fair Rose, and rifled all its Sweetness;
Then cast it like a loathsome Weed away.
Acast.
[Page 50]You talk to me in Parables, Chamont,
You may have known that I'm no wordy man,
Fine Speeches are the Instruments of Knaves
Or Fools, that use'em, when they want good sense;
But honesty
Needs no Disguise nor Ornament: Be plain.
Cham.
Your Son—
Acast.
Iv'e two, and both I hope have honour.
Cham.
I hope so too—but—
Acast.
Speak.
Cham.
I must inform you,
Once more Castalio—
Acast.
Still Castalio!
Cham.
Yes,
Your Son Castalio has wrong'd Monimia.
Acast.
Hah! wrong'd her?
Cham.
Marry'd her.
Acast.
I'm sorry for't.
Cham.
Why sorry?
By yon blest Heaven there's not a Lord
But might be proud to take her to his heart.
Acast.
I'll not deny't.
Cham.
You dare not, by the Gods,
You dare not; all your Family combin'd
In one damn'd False-hood to out-do Castalio,
Dare not deny't.
Acast.
How has Castalio wrong'd her?
Cham.
Ask that of him: I say my Sister's wrong'd;
Monimia my sister born as high
And noble as Castalio— Do her Justice,
Or by the Gods I'll lay a Scene of Blood,
Shall make this Dwelling horrible to Nature.
I'll do't: heark you, my Lord, your Son Castalio
Take him to your Closet, and there teach him manners.
Acast.
You shall have Justice.
Cham.
Nay—I will have Justice.
VVho'll sleep in safety that has done me wrong?
My Lord, I'll not disturb you to repeat
The Cause of this; I beg you (to preserve
Your Houses Honour) ask it of Castalio.
Acast.
[Page 51]I will.
Cham.
Till then farewell—
Ex. Cham.
Acast.
Farewel; proud Boy.
Monimia!
Mon.
My Lord.
Acast.
You are my Daughter.
Mon.
I am, my Lord, if you'll vouchsafe to own me.
Acast.
When you'll complain to me, I'll prove a Father.
Ex. Acasto.
Mon.
Now, I'm undone for ever: Who on Earth
Is there so wretched as Monimia?
First by Castalio cruelly forsaken;
I've lost Acasto: his parting frowns
May well instruct me, rage is in his heart;
I shall be next abandon'd to my Fortune,
Thrust out a naked Wanderer to the World,
And branded for the mischievons Monimia;
What will become of me? My cruel Brother
Is framing mischiefs too, for ought I know,
That may produce bloodshed, and horrid Murder:
I would not be the Cause of one mans Death,
To reign the Empress of the Earth; nay, more,
I'd rather lose for ever my Castalio,
My dear unkind Castalio.
Enter Polydore.
Pol.
Monimia, weeping!
So morning Dews on new blown Roses Lodge,
By the Suns amorous heat to be exhal'd.
I come my Love, to kiss, all sorrow from thee.
What mean these sighs? and why thus beats thy Heart?
Mon.
Let me alone to sorrow: 'Tis a cause
None e're shall know; but it shall with me dye.
Pol.
Happy, Monimia, he, to whom these sighs,
These tears, and all these languishings are paid!
I am no stranger to your dearest secret;
I know your heart was never meant for me,
That Jewel's for an Elder Brother's price.
Mon.
My Lord.
Pol.
[Page 52]Nay, wonder not, last Night I heard
His Oaths, your Vows; and to my torment saw
Your wild Embraces: heard th' appointment made:
I did, Monimia, and I curst the sound.
Wilt thou be sworn, my Love? wilt thou be ne're
Unkind again?
Mon.
Banish such fruitless hopes!
Have you sworn constancy to my undoing?
Will you be ne're my Friend again?
Pol.
What means my Love?
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.
Was it well done to treat me like a Prostitute,
T'assault my Lodging at the dead of night,
And threaten me if I deny'd admittance?—
You said you were Castalio.—
Pol.
By those eyes,
It was the same, I spent my time much better,
I tell thee, ill natur'd Fair One, I was posted
To more advantage on a pleasant hill
Of springing Joy, and everlasting sweetness.
Mon.
Hah—have a care.—
Pol.
Where is the danger near me?
Mon.
I fear y'are on a Rock will wreck your Quiet,
And drown your soul in wretchedness for ever;
A thousand horrid thoughts crow'd on my memory.
Will you be kind and answer me one question?
Pol.
I'd trust thee with my life on those soft Breasts;
Breath out the Choicest secrets of my heart;
Till I had nothing in it left but Love.
Mon.
Nay, I'll Conjure you by the Gods, and Angels,
By the honour of your name, that's most concern'd,
To tell me, Polydore, and tell me truly,
Where did you rest last Night?
Pol.
Within thy arms
I triumpht: Rest had been my Foe.
Mon.
'Tis done—
She faints.
Pol.
She faints: no help, who waits? a curse
[Page 53] Upon my Vanity that could not keep
The secret of my happiness in silence.
Confusion! we shall be surpriz'd anon,
And consequently all must be betray'd,
Monimia! she breaths—Monimia.—
Mon.
Well,—
Let mischiefs multiply! Let every hour
Of my loath'd life yield me increase of horror!
Oh let the Sun to these unhappy eyes
Ne're shine again, but be eclips'd 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, it all
The friendship e're you vow'd to good Castalio
Be not a falsehood, if you every lov'd
Your Brother, you've undone your self 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! hah!
Speak that again.
Mon.
I am Castalio's Wife.
Pol.
His marry'd wedded Wife?
Mon.
Yester-dayes Sun
Saw it perform'd.
Pol.
And then have I enjoy'd
My Brothers 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 may'st yet be happy.
Mon.
Couldst thou be
Happy with such a weight upon thy Soul?
Pol.
It may be yet a secret: I'll go try
To reconcile and bring Castalio to thee,
Whilst from the VVorld I take my self away,
[Page 54] And Waste my life in Penance for my Sin.
Mon.
Then thou wouldst more undo me: heap a load
Of added Sins upon my wretched head:
Wouldst thou again have me betray thy Brother,
And bring pollution to his Arms? curst thought!
Oh when shall I be mad indeed!
Pol.
Nay, then,
Let us embrace, and from this very Moment
Vow an Eternal misery together.
Mon.
And wilt thou be a very faithful wretch?
Never grow fond of chearful peace again?
Wilt with me study to be unhappy,
And find out ways how to encrease affliction?
Pol.
We'll institute new Arts unknown before,
To vary plagues and make 'em look like new ones:
First if the Fruit of our detested Joy,
A Child be born, it shall be murder'd.—
Mon.
No.
Sure, that may live.
Pol.
Why?
Mon.
To become a thing
More wretched than its Parents, to be branded
With all our Infamy, and Curse its Birth.
Pol.
That's well contriv'd! then thus let's go together
Full of our guilt, distracted where to roam,
Like the first Wretched Pair expell'd their Paradise.
Let's find some place where Adders nest in VVinter,
Loathsome and Venemous; VVhere poisons hang
Like Gums against the VValls; where VVitches meet
By night and feed upon some pamper'd Imp,
Fat with the Blood of Babes: There we'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 Beauties Charms,
But when I'm dying take me in thy Armes.
ACT V. SCENE I.
Castalio lying on the ground.
SONG.
COme, all ye Youths, whose Hearts e're bled
By cruel Beauties Pride,
Bring each a Garland on his head
Let none his Sorrows hide,
But hand in hand around me move
Singing the saddest Tales of Love;
And see, when your Complaints ye joyn,
If all your Wrongs can equal mine.
2
The happyest Mortal once was I,
My heart no Sorrows knew.
Pity the Pain with which I dye,
But ask not whence it grew.
Yet if a tempting Fair you find
That's very lovely, very kind,
Though bright as Heaven whose stamp she bears,
Think of my Fate, and Shun her Snares.
Castal.
See 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
VVildness and freedom, pleasant Springs, fresh Herbage,
Calm Harbours, 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.
[Page 56] Enter Acasto.
Acast.
Castalio! Castalio!
Cast.
VVho'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 Nourisht.
Acast.
I'm come, in Beauties Cause, you'l 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 foment to madness! Oh! my Father.
Acast.
VVhat Ayles my Boy?
Cast.
A woman is the thing
I would forget, and blot from my Remembrance.
Acast.
Forget Monimia!
Cast.
She to choose: Monimia
The very sound's ungrateful to my sence.
Acast.
This might seem strange, but you I've found will
Hide your heart from me, you dare not trust to your Father.
Cast.
No more Monimia.
Acast.
Is she not your VVife?
Cast.
So much the worse, who loves to hear of VVife?
VVhen you would give all worldly Plagues a name
VVorse than they have already, call 'em Wife:
But a new married wife's seeming mischief,
Full of her self: VVhy, 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.
Cast.
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 wrong'd her.
Cast.
Who has complain'd?
Acast.
[Page 57]Her Brother to my face proclaim'd her wrong'd,
And in such terms they've warm'd me.
Cast.
What terms? her Brother! Heaven!
Where learnt she that?
VVhat does she send her Hero with defiance?
He durst not sure affront you?
Acast.
No, not much,
But—
Cast.
Speak, what said he?
Acast.
That thou wert a Villain:
Methinks I would not have thee thought a Villain.
Cast.
Shame on the ill-manner'd Brute:
Your age secur'd him, he durst not else have said so.
Acast.
By my Sword,
I would not see thee wrong'd, and bear it vilely,
Though I have past my word she shall have Justice.
Cast.
Justice! to give her Justice wou'd undo her:
Think you this Solitude I now had chosen,
Left joys just opening to my sense, sought here
A place to curse my Fate in, measur'd out
My Grave at length, wish to have grown one piece
With this cold Clay, and all without a Cause?
Enter Chamont.
Cham.
Where is the Hero famous and renown'd
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.
Cham.
I come to seek the Husband of Monimia.
Cast.
The Slave is here.
Cham.
I thought e're now to 'ave found you
Attoning for the Ills you've done Chamont:
For you have wrong'd the dearest part of him;
Monimia, young Lord, weeps in this heart;
And all the Tears the Injuries have drawn
From her poor Eyes, are drops of Blood from hence.
Cast.
Then you are Chamont?
Cham.
Yes, and I hope no Stranger
To great Castalio.
Cast.
[Page 58]I've heard of such a Man
That has been very busie 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.
Cham.
Thus I'll thank you.
Draws.
Acast.
By this good Sword, who first presumes to violence
Makes me his Foe—
Draws and interposes.
Young Man, it once was thought
To Castalio.
I was sit Guardian of my Houses Honour,
And you might trust your share with me—For you
To Charm.
Young Souldier, I must tell you, you have wrong'd me:
I promis'd you to do Monimia right,
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 injur'd Honour;
Oppose not then the Justice of my Sword,
Lest you should make me jealous of your love.
Cham.
Into thy Father's arms thou fly'st for safety,
Because thou know'st the place is sanctify'd
With the Remembrance of an ancient Friendship.
Cast.
I am a Villain if I will not seek thee
'Till I may be reveng'd for all the wrongs
Done me by that ungrateful Fair thou plead'st for.
Cham.
She wrong thee! by the Fury in my heart,
Thy Father's Honour's not above Monimia's;
Nor was thy Mother's Truth and Vertue fairer.
Acast.
Boy, don't disturb the Ashes of the dead
With thy capricious Follies: The remembrance
Of the lov'd Creature that once fill'd these Arms—
Cham.
Has not been wrong'd.
Cast.
It shall not.
Cham.
No, nor shall
Monimia, though a helpless Orphan, destitute
Of Friends and Fortune, though the unhappy Sister
Of poor Chamont, whose Sword is all his Portion,
Be opprest by thee, thou proud imperious Traytor.
Cast.
Hah! let me free.
Cham.
Come both.
[Page 59] Enter Serina.
Serin.
Alas! alas!
The cause of these disorders my Chamont?
Who is't has wrong'd thee?
Casta.
Now where art thou fled
For shelter?
Cham.
Come from thine, and see what safeguard
Shall then betray my fears.
Serin.
Cruel Castalio,
Sheath up thy angry Sword, and don't affright me:
Chamont let once Serina calm thy breast:
If any of thy friends have done thee injuries,
I'll be reveng'd, and love thee better for't.
Casta.
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 our selves
We fairly may dispute our wrongs together.
Cham.
Till then I am Castalio's Friend.
Cast.
Serina,
Farewell, I wish much happiness attend you.
Serin.
Chamont's the dearest thing I have on Earth;
Give me Chamont, and let the world forsake me.
Cham.
Witness the Gods, how happy I am 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 begger in Monimia's Cause,
Might I be heard?
Cast.
Sir, 'twas my last request
You wou'd, though you I find will not be satisfi'd:
So in a word, Monimia is my scorn;
She basely sent you here to try my fears;
That was your business.
No artful Prostitute, in Falshoods practis'd,
To make advantage of her Coxcombs Follies,
Could have done more—Disquiet vex her for't.
Cham.
Farewell.
Cast.
[Page 60]Farewell.—My Father, you seem troubled.
Acast.
VVould I had been absent when this boistrous brane
Came to disturb thee thus: I'm griev'd I hinder'd
Thy just resentment—But Monimia—
Cast.
Damn her.
Acast.
Don't curse her.
Cast.
Did I?
Acast.
Yes.
Cast.
I'm sorry for it.
Acast.
Methinks, as if I guess the fault's but small,
It might be pardon'd.
Cast.
No.
Acast.
What has she done?
Cast.
That she's my Wife, may Heav'n and you forgive me.
Acast.
Be reconcil'd then.
Cast.
No.
Acast.
Go see her.
Cast.
No.
Acast.
I'll send and bring her hither.
Cast.
No.
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.
I tell you were she prostrate at my Feet,
Full of her Sexes best dissembled sorrows,
And all that wondrous Beauty of her own,
My heart might break, but it should never soften.
Enter Florella.
Flor.
My Lord, where are you? Oh Castalio!
Acast.
Heark.
Cast.
VVhat's that?
Flor.
Oh shew me quickly where's Castalio.
Cast.
VVhy, what's the business?
Flor.
Oh the poor Monimia!
Cast.
Hah!
Acast.
What's the matter?
Flor.
[Page 61]Hurry'd by despair
She flyes with fury over all the house,
Through every Room of each apartment crying,
VVhere's my Castalio? give me my Castalio:
Except she sees you, sure [...]hee'l grow distracted.
Cast.
Hah! 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 forget her,
But do not tell the world you saw this of me.
Acast.
Delay not then but haste and chear thy Love.
Cast.
Oh I will throw m'impatient Armes 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!
Ex. Acast. Cast.
Enter Monimia.
Mon.
Stand off and give me Room,
I will not rest till I have found Castalio.
My wishes Lord comely as rising day,
Amidst ten thousand eminently known.
Flowers spring wherehe e're treads, his Eyes
Fountains of brightness cheering all about him!
VVhen will they shine on me?—Oh stay my Soul!
I cannot dye in peace till I have seen him.
Castalio re-Enters.
Cast.
VVho talks of dying with a Voice so sweet,
That life's in love with it?
Mon.
Heark! 'tis he that answers:
So in a Camp though at the dead of night,
If but the Trumpets chearful noise is heard,
All at the signal leap from downey rest,
And every heart awakes as mine does now.
VVhere art thou?
Cast.
[Page 62]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!
Why doest 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'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.
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,
To pay thee back this mighty tenderness;
It is because I look on thee with horror,
And cannot see the man I so have wrong'd.
Cast.
Thou hast not wrong'd me.
Mon.
Ah! alas, thou talk'st
Just as thy poor Heart thinks; have not I wrong'd thee?
Cast.
No.
Mon.
Still thou wander'st in the dark, Castalio;
But wilt e're long stumble on horrid danger.
Cast.
What means my Love!
Mon.
Couldst thou but forgive me?
Cast.
What?
Mon.
For my fault last night; Alas, thou canst 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,
[Page 63] The scatter'd Lovers of the Feather'd kind,
Seeking when danger's past to meet again,
Make moan, and call, by such degrees approach;
'Till joying thus they bill, and spread their wing▪
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 lyes:
Why didst thou (prithee smile and tell me why)
When I stood waiting underneath the Window,
Quaking with fierce and violent desires;
The dropping dews fell cold upon my head,
Darkness enclos'd, and the Winds whistl'd round me;
Which with my mournful sighs made such sad Musick,
As might have mov'd the hardest heart: Why wert thou
Deaf to my Cryes and senseless of my pains?
Mon.
Did I not 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 horrour, and forbearance
Of more inquiry; tell me, I beg thee, tell me;
And do not 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 e're 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're must meet again—
Cast.
What means my destiny?
For all my good or evil Fate dwells in thee:
Ne're meet again!
Mon.
No, never.
Cast.
Where's the pow'r
On Earth, that dares not look like thee, and say so,
Thou art my hearts inheritance, I serv'd
[Page 64] 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:
Heav'n has decreed, and therefore I've resolv'd,
(VVith 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 midst Inchantment,
And never more shall find the way to rest;
But, oh Monimia, art th' indeed resolv▪d,
To punish me with everlasting absence;
Why turn'st thou from me? I'm alone already;
Methinks I stand upon a naked beach,
Sighing to winds, and to the Seas complaining,
Whilst afar off the Vessel sailes away,
VVhere all the Treasure of my Soul's embarqu'd;
VVilt thou not turn—Oh could those eyes but speak
I shou'd know all, for Love is pregnant in 'em;
They swell, they press their beams upon me still;
VVilt thou not speak? if we must part for ever,
Give me but one kind word to think upon,
And please my self withal whilst my heart's breaking.
Ex. Mon.
Mon.
A poor Castalio!
Cast.
Pity, by the Gods,
She pity's me; then thou wilt go Eternally?
VVhat means all this? why all this stir to plague
A single wretch? If but your word can shake
This world to Atomes, why so much ado
VVith me? think me but dead and lay me so.
Enter Polydore.
Pol.
To live, and live a Torment to my self,
VVhat Dog would bear't that knew but his Condition?
VVe have little knowledge, and that makes us Cowards.
Because it cannot tell us what's to come.
Cast.
VVho's there?
Pol.
VVhy, what art thou?
Cast.
My Brother Polydore!
Polyd.
[Page 65]My Name is Polydore.
Cast.
Canst thou inform me?
Polyd.
Of what?
Cast.
Of my Monimia?
Polyd.
No. Good-day.
Cast.
In haste?
Methinks my Polydore appears in sadness.
Polyd.
Indeed and so to me does my Castalio.
Cast.
Do I?
Polyd.
Thou dost.
Cast.
Alas! I've wondrous reason;
I'm strangely alter'd, Brother, since I saw thee.
Polyd.
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
VVithin thy friendly bosom all my Follies,
For thou wilt pardon 'em, because th'are mine.
Polyd.
Be not too credulous, consider first,
Friends may be false. Is there no Friendship false?
Cast.
VVhy 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.
Polyd.
I fear, Castalio, I have none to give thee.
Cast.
Dost thou not love me then?
Polyd.
Oh, more than life:
I never had a thought of my Castalio
Might wrong the Friendship we had vow'd together.
Hast thou dealt so by me?
Cast.
I hope I have.
Polyd.
Then tell me why this mourning, this disorder?
Cast.
Oh, Polydore, I know not how to tell thee;
Shame rises in my Face, and interrupts
The Story of my Tongue.
Polyd.
I grieve my Friend
Knows any thing which he's asham'd to tell me;
Or didst thou e're conceal thy thoughts from Polydore?
Cast.
Oh, much too oft.
But let me here conjure thee,
[Page 66] By all the kind affection of a Brother,
(For I am asham'd to call my self thy Friend)
Forgive me.
Pol.
Well, go on.
Cast.
Our Destiny contriv'd
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 smooth'd my pain with smiles before thee,
And made a Contract I ne're meant to keep.
Pol.
How!
Cast.
Still new ways I study'd to abuse thee,
And kept thee as a stranger to my Passion,
Till yesterday I wedded with Monimia.
Pol.
Ah, Castalio, was that well done?
Cast.
No, to conceal't from thee was much a fault.
Pol.
A fault! when thou hast heard
The Tale I'll tell, what wilt thou call it then?
Cast.
How my heart throbs!
Pol.
First, for thy Friendship, Traytor,
I cancel't thus; after this day, I'll ne're
Hold trust, or converse, with the false Castalio:
This, witness Heav'n.
Cast.
What will my Fate do with me?
I've lost all happiness, and know not why:
What means this, Brother?
Pol.
Perjur'd, Treacherous Wretch,
Farewell.
Cast.
I'll be thy Slave, and thou shalt use me
just as thou wilt, do but forgive me.
Pol.
Never.
Cast.
Oh! think a little what thy heart is doing;
How from our Infancy we hand in hand
Have trod the Path of Life, in Love together;
One Bed has held us, and the same desires,
The same A versions still imploy'd our thoughts;
When-e're had I a Friend, that was not Pollydore's,
Or Polydore a Foe, that was not mine?
Ev'n in the Womb we embrac'd, and wilt thou now,
For the first Fault, abandon, and forsake me,
[Page 67] Leave me amidst Afflictions to my self,
Plung'd in the gulf of grief and none to help me?
Pol.
Go to Monimia, in her Arms thoul't find
Repose; She has the Art of healing sorrows.
Cast.
What Arts?
Pol.
Blind Wretch, thou Husband! there's a question;
Go to her fulsom bed, and wallow there,
Till some hot Ruffian, full of lust, and wine,
Come storm thee out, and shew thee what's thy Bargain.
Cast.
Hold there, I charge thee.
Pol.
Is she not a—
Cast.
Whore?
Pol.
Ay, Whore, I think that word needs no explaining.
Cast.
Alas, I can forgive, ev'n this to thee;
But let me tell thee, Polydore, I'm griev'd,
To find thee guilty of such low Revenge,
To wrong that Vertue which thou couldst not ruin.
Pol.
It seems I lye then.
Cast.
Should the bravest man
That e're wore Conquering Sword, but dare to whisper,
What thou proclaim'st, he were the worst of Lyars:
My Friend may be mistaken.
Pol.
Damn the Evasion,
Thou mean'st the worst, and he's a base born Villain
That said I ly'd.
Cast.
Do, draw thy Sword, and thrust it through my heart;
There's no Joy in life; if thou art lost.
A base born Villain.
Pol.
Yes, thou never camest
From old Acasto's Loyns, the Midwife put
A cheat upon my Mother, and instead
Of a true Brother, in the Cradle by me
Plac'd some course Peasants Cub, and thou art he.
Cast.
Thou art my Brother still.
Pol.
Thou ly'st.
Cast.
Nay, then:
Yet I am Calm.
He draws.
Pol.
A Coward's always so.
Cast.
Ah—ah—that stings home: Coward?
Pol.
Ay, base born Coward, Villain.
Cast.
[Page 68]This to thy heart then, though my Mothore bore thee.
Fight, Polydore drops his Sword, and runs on Castal.
Pol.
Now my Castalio is again my Friend.
Cast.
What have I done! My Sword is in thy Breast.
Pol.
So I would have it be, thou best of men,
Thou kindest Brother, and thou truest Friend.
Cast.
Ye Gods, we're taught, that all your works are Justice,
Y'are painted merciful, and Friends to innocence;
If so, then why these plagues upon my head?
Pol.
Blame not the Heav'ns, here lyes thy Fate Castalio;
Th'are not the Gods,'tis Polydore has wrong'd thee;
I've stain'd thy Bed, thy spotless Marriage—Joys
Have been polluted by thy Brothers Lust.
Cast.
By thee!
Pol.
By me last night the horrid deed
Was done; when all things slept, but Rage, and Incest.
Cast.
Now, where's Monimia? Oh!
Enter Monimia.
Mon.
I'm here, who calls me?
Methought I heard a Voice
Sweet as the Shepherds Pipe upon the Mountains,
When all his little Flock's at feed before him:
But what means this? here's Blood.
Cast.
Ay, Brothers Bloud;
Art thou prepar'd for Everlasting pains?
Pol.
Oh let me charge thee by th' Eternal justice,
Hurt not her tender life!
Cast.
Not kill her? Rack me,
Ye Powers above, with all your choicest Torments,
Horror of mind and pains yet uninvented,
If I not practise cruelty upon her,
And treat revenge some way, yet never known.
Mon.
That task my self have finisht, I shall dye
Before we part: I've drunka healing draught
For all my Cares, and never more shall wrong thee.
Pol.
Oh she's innocent.
Cast.
Tell me that Story,
And thou wilt make a wretch of me indeed.
Pol.
[Page 69]Hadst thou, Castalio, us'd me like a Friend,
This ne're had happen'd, hadst thou let me know
Thy Marriage, we had all now met in Joy;
But ignorant of that,
Hearing th' appointment made, enrag'd to think
Thou hadst out-done me in successful Love,
I in the dark went and supply'd thy place,
Whilst all the Night, midst our Triumphant Joys,
The trembling, tender, kind, deceiv'd Monimia,
Embrac'd, Carest, and call'd me her Castalio.
Cast.
And all this is the work of my own Fortune,
None but my self coulde're have been so curst,
My Fatal Love, alas! has ruin'd thee,
Thou fairest, goodliest Frame the God's e're made,
Or ever humane eyes, and hearts ador'd,
I've murder'd too my Brother,
Why wouldst thou study ways to damn me further
And force the sin of Parricide upon me?
Pol.
'Twas my own Fault, and thou art innocent,
Forgive the barbarous trespass of my Tongue,
'Twas a hard violence; I cou'd have dy'd
With Love of thee, ev'n when I us'd thee worst;
Nay, at each word that my Distraction utter'd,
My heart recoyl'd, and 'twas half death to speak 'em.
Mon.
Now, my Castalio, the most dear of men,
Wilt thou receive pollution to thy Bosom,
And close the eyes of one that has betray'd thee?
Cast.
Oh I'm the unhappy wretch, whose cursed Fate
Has weigh'd thee down into destruction with him,
Why then thus kind to me?
Mon.
When I'm laid low in the Grave, and quite forgotten,
Maist thou be happy in a fairer Bride;
But none can ever love thee like Monimia.
When I am dead, as presently I shall be;
(For the grim Tyrant grasps my heart already)
Speak well of me, and if thou find ill tongues
Too busie with my fame▪ do'nt hear me wrong'd,
'Twill be a noble Justice to the memory
Of a poor wretch, once honour'd with thy Love.
How my head swims! Tis very dark: Good night.
Dyes.
Cast.
[Page 70]If I survive thee, what a thought was that?
Thank Heav'n I go prepar'd against that Curse.
Enter Chamont disarm'd, and seiz'd by Acasto, and Servants.
Cham.
Gape, Hell, and swallow me to quick Damnation,
If I forgive your House, If I not live
An Everlasting plague to thee, Acasto,
And all thy Race. Y' have o're power'd me now;
But hear me, Heav'n! Ah, here's the Scene of Death,
My Sister, my Monimia! Breathless! Now,
Ye Powers above, if y'have Justice, strike,
Strike Bolts through me, and through the curst Castalio.
Acast.
My Ploydore.
Pol.
Who calls?
Acast.
How cam'st thou wounded?
Cast.
Stand off thou hot-brain'd boistrous noisy Ruffian,
And leave me to my sorrows.
Cham.
By the love
I bore her living, I will ne're forsake,
But here remain till my heart bursts with sobbing.
Cast.
Vanish, I charge thee, or—
Draws a Dagger.
Cham.
Thou canst not kill me,
That would be kindness, and against thy Nature.
Acast.
What means Castalio? Sure thou wilt not pull
More sorrows on thy Aged Fathers head.
Tell me, I beg you, tell me the sad cause
Of all this ruin.
Pol.
That must be my Task▪
But 'tis too long for one in pains to tell;
You'l in my Closet find the story written,
Of all our woes. Castalio's innocent,
Andso's Monimia, only I'm to blame:
Inquire no farther.
Cast.
Thou unkind, Chamont,
Unjustly hast pursu'd me with thy hate,
And sought the life of him that never wrong'd thee,
Now if thou wilt embrace a noble vengeance,
Come joyn with me and curse.
Cham.
What?
Cast.
[Page 71]First thy self,
As I do, and the hour that gave thee birth:
Confusion and disorder seize the World,
To spoyl all trust and converse amongst men▪
'Twixt Families ingender endless fewds,
In Countrys needless fears, in Cities factions,
In States Rebellion, and in Churches Schism:
Till all things move against the course of Nature;
Till Form's dissolv'd, the Chain of Causes broken,
And the Originals of Being lost.
Acast.
Have Patience.
Cast.
Patience! preach it to the Winds,
To roaring Seas, or raging Fires; the Knaves
That teach it laugh at ye, when ye believe'em.
Strip me of all the common needs of life,
Scald me with Leprosie, let Friends forsake me,
I'll bear it all; but curst to the degree
That I am now, 'tis this must give me patience:
Thus I find rest, and shall complain no more.
Stabs himself
Pol.
Castalio! Oh!
Cast.
[...] me.
Chamont, to thee my birth-right I bequeath:
Comfort my Mourning Father, heal his griefs;
Acasto faints into the Arms of a Servant.
For I perceive they fall with weight upon him.
And for Monimia's sake, whom thou wilt find
I never wrong'd, be kind to poor Serina.
Now all I beg, is, lay me in one Grave,
Thus with my Love. Farewel, I now am—nothing.
Dies.
Cham.
Take care of good Acasto, whilst I go
To search the means by which the Fates have plagu'd us.
'Tis thus that Heaven it's Empire does maintain,
It may Afflict, but man must not Complain.
Epilogue.
YOu've seen one Orphan ruin'd here, and I
May be the next, if old Acasto dye:
Should it prove so, I'd fain amongst you find,
Who 'tis would to the fatherless be kind.
To whose protection might I safely go?
Is there amongst you no good Nature? No.
What should I do? should I the Godly seek,
And go a Conventicling twice a Week?
Quit the lewd Stage, and its prophane pollution,
Affect each Form and Saint-like Institution,
So draw the Brethren all to Contribution?
Or shall I (is I guess the Poet may
Within these three days) fairly run away?
No, to some City Lodgings I'll retire,
Seem very grave, and privacy desire:
Till I am thought some Heiress rich in Lands,
Fled to escape a cruel Guardian's hands;
Which may produce a Story worth the telling,
Of the next Sparks that go a Fortune-stealing.
FINIS.