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So there was nothing of a piece about her.
Mon. The common cheat of beggars, every day They flock about our doors, pretend to gifts Of prophecy, and telling fools their fortunes. · Cha. Oh! but she told me such a tale, Monimia, As in it bore great circumstance of truth; Castalio and Polydore, my sister.
Cha. What, alter'd! does your courage fail you! Now, by my father's soul, the witch was honest. Answer me, if thou hast not lost to them Thy honour at a sordid game ?
Mon. I will,
Cha. But Castalio!
By gen'rous love, and honourable vows,
Cha. Art thou then spotless? Hast thou still preserv'd
pray’rs ! Or more, to make me wretched, may you know it!
Cha. Oh, then, Monimia, art thou dearer to me Than all the comforts ever yet blest man. But let not marriage bait thee to thy ruin. Trust not a man; we are by nature false, Dissembling, subtile, cruel, and unconstant. When a man talks of love, with caution trust him ; But if he swears, he'll certainly deceive thee. I charge thee let no more Castalio sooth thee; Avoid it, as thou would'st preserve the peace Of a poor brother, to whose soul thou’rt precious.
Mon. I will. Cha. Appear as cold, when next you meet, as great ones
320 When merit begs; then shalt thou see how soon His heart will cool, and all his pains grow easy. [Exit.
Mon. Yes, I will try him; torture him severely; For, oh, Castalio! thou too much hast wrong'd me, In leaving me to Polydore's ill usage. He comes; and for once, oh, love, stand neuter, Whilst a hard part's perform’d! for I must 'tempt Wound his soft nature, though my heart aches for't.
Enter POLYDORE and Page at the Door.
Enter MONIMIA and CASTALIO,
When thou art from me, every place is desert,
Mon. Oh, the bewitching tongues of faithless men !
Cast. What means my love? Oh, how have I deserv'd This language from the sov’reign of my joys ? Stop, stop those tears, Monimia, for they fall, Like baneful dew from a distempered sky; I feel 'em chill me to my very heart.
Mon. Oh, you are false, Castalio, most forsworn! Attempt no farther to delude my faith ; My heart is fixt, and you shall shak't no more.
Cast. Who told you so? What ill-bred villain durst Profane the sacred business of my love?
Mon. Your brother, knowing on what terms I'm here, The unhappy object of your father's charity, Licentiously discours’d to me of love, And durst affront me with his brutal passion.
Cast. 'Tis I have been to blame, and only I; False to my brother, and unjust to thee. For, oh! he loves thee too, and this day own’d it, Tax'd me with mine, and claim'd a right above me.
Mon. And was your love so very tame, to shrink; Or rather than lose him, abandon me?
Cast. I, knowing him precipitate and rash,
Mon. Could you then ? did you i can you own it too? 'Twas poorly done, unworthy of yourself! And I can never think you meant me fair.
Cast. Is this Monimia? surely no; till now
Mon. Man therefore was a lord-like creature made,
Cast. Who can hear this and bear an equal mind!