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Use honest dealing with a friend and brother.
Pol. When you, Castalio, cease,
Cast. It seems you've watch'd me, then?
This is the utmost point of all my hopes ;
Enter Page. Page. My Lord!
Pol. Come hither, boy.
Page. My Lord, I could do any thing for you,
Pol. 'Tis pity, then, thou should'st not be employ'd.
Whether he'll hunt to-morrow. Well said, Polydore,
kind To me; would often set me on his knee, Then give me sweetmeats, call me pretty boy, And ask me what the maids talked of at nights. Pol. Run quickly, then, and prosp'rous be thy wishes.
. [Exit 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. O, for the art of Proteus, but to change Th' unhappy 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 possessid of more Than sense can think, all loosen'd into joy, To hear my disappointed brother come, And give th' unregarded signal ; Oh, What a malicious pleasure will that be; Just three soft strokes against the chamber door ; But speak not the least word, for if you should, 460
It's surely heard, and we are both betray'd.
: [Gives the signa [Maid at the window.] Who's there? Pol. 'Tis I. Maid. My lord Castalio ?
Pol. The same.
[Maid descends. Now boast, Castalio, triumph now, and tell 480 Thyself strange stories of a promis'd bliss.
[The door unbolts. It opens! Hah! what means my trembling flesh? Limbs, do your office, and support me well, Bear me to her, then fail me if you can. [Exit.
Enter CASTALIQ and Page. Page. Indeed, my lord, 'twill be a lovely morning; Pray let us hunt.
Cast. Go, you're an idle prattler. I'll stay at home to-morrow; if your lord Thinks fit, he may command my hounds. Go,
leave me, I must to bed.
Page. 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.
Page. Oh! You never heard the last new song I learn'd! It is the finest, prettiest song indeed, Of my lord and my lady, you know who, that were caught
500 Together, you know where. My lord, indeed it is. Cast. You must be whipp’d, youngster, if you get
such songs as those are.
Page. Why, what must I sing, pray, my dear lord ?
Cast. Well, leave me. I'm weary.
Page. Oh! but you promis'd me, the 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