Since you will drive me from you, I must go;
But, oh, Monimia! When thou hast banish'd me,
No creeping slave, though tractable and dull
As artful woman for her ends would choose,
Shall ever doat as I have done : for, oh!

No tongue my pleasure nor my pain can tell,
'Tis heaven 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,

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They rouse up drowsy thoughts, and wake my soul," Oh! charm me with the music of thy tongue, I'm ne'er 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 Heav'n grow here, And ev'ry sense is full of thy perfection.

To hear thee speak might calm a madman's 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 heaven, but to enjoy thee. Oh!”
Thou nature's whole perfection in one piece;
Sure framing thee Heaven 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.

A Garden. Enter POLYDORE and PAGE.

Polydore.

WERE they so kind? Express it to me all

In words, 'twill make me think I saw it too.

Page. 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 play'd, and scarce could be contain❜d.
Pol. But what succeeded?

Page. Oh, 'twas wond'rous pretty!
For of a sudden all the storm was past,
A gentle calm of love succeeded it;
Monimia sigh'd and blush'd, Castalio swore ;
As you, my lord, I well remember, did
To my young sister in the orange grove,
When I was first preferr'd to be your page.
Pol. Happy Castalio! Now, by my great soul,
My ambitious soul, that languishes to glory,
I'll have her yet, by my best hopes I will.
She shall be mine, in spite 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; surpris'd

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Her sinking virtue, till she yielded quite.
So poachers baselý pick up tired game,

While the fair hunter's cheated of his prey.
Boy!

Page. My lord!

Pol. Go to your chamber, and prepare your lute : Find out some song to please me, that describes Women's hypocrisies, their subtile wiles, Betraying smiles, feign'd tears, inconstancies; Their painted outsides, and corrupted minds; The sum of all their follies, and their falsehoods.

Enter Servant.

Serv. Oh, the unhappiest tidings tongue e'er 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 goblet 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 itself seem'd fled,
And all his friends are waiting now about him.

Enter ACASTO leaning on two.

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Acast. Support me; give me air; I'll yet recover. 'Twas but a slip decaying nature made;

For she grows weary near her journey's end.

Where are my sons? Come near, my Polydore;
Your brother; where's Castalio ?

Serv. My lord,

I've search'd, as you commanded, all the house;

He and 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

My 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 die with all my friends about me.

Enter CASTALIO and MONIMIA.

Cast. Angels preserve my dearest father's life, Bless it with long uninterupted days!

Oh, may he live till time itself decay,

'Till good men wish him dead, or I offend him!

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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.

Enter Chaplain.

Chap. Heav'n guard your lordship, and restore your health.

Acast. I have provided for thee, if I die.

No fawning! 'tis a scandal to thy office.

My sons, as thus united ever live;

And for th' estate you'll find when I am dead,

I have divided it betwixt you both,

Equally parted, as you shar'd 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 brothers; "shun "The man that's singular, his mind's unsound, 8@ "His spleen o'erweighs his brains; but above all, "Avoid the politic, the factious fool,

“The busy, buzzing, talking, harden'd knave, "The quaint smooth rogue, that sins against his rea

“son,

"Calls saucy loud suspicion, public zeal,
"And mutiny, the dictates of his spirit:
"Be very careful how you make new friends.
"Men read not morals now: 'twas a custom :
"But all are to their father's vices born;
"And in their mother's ignorance are bred.
"Let marriage be the last mad thing you do,
"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 you've religion, keep it to yourselves;
"Atheists will else make use of toleration,

"And laugh you out on't. Never shew religion, Except you mean to pass for knaves of conscience, "And cheat believing fools that think ye honest."

Enter SERINA.

Ser. My father!

E

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