ACT IV. SCENE I.

A Saloon.

Acasto. Blest be the morning that has brought me health; A happy rest has soften'd pain away, And I'll forget it, though my mind's not well; A heavy melancholy clogs my heart; I droop and sigh, I know not why. Dark dreams, Sick fancy's children, have been over-busy, And all the night play'd farces in my brain. Methought I heard the midnight raven cry; Wak'd with th' imagin'd noise, my curtain 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 bloody cloud. 'Twas odd, and for the present, shook my thoughts; But 'twas th' effect of my distemper'd blood; And when the health's disturb'd, the mind's unruly.

Enter

Enter POLYDORE.
Good-morning, Polydore.

Pol. Heav'n keep your Lordship.
Acast. Have you yet seen Castalio to-day?
Pol. My Lord, 'tis early day; he's hardly risen. 20
Acast. Go, call him up, and meet me in the chapel.

[Exit Polydore.

I cannot think all has gone well to-night;
For as I waking lay (and sure my sense
Was then my own) I thought 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. Already up, Monimia! you rose Thus early, sure, to outshine the day : Or was there any thing that cross'd your rest? They were naughty thoughts that would not let you

sleep.

Mon. Whatever are my thoughts, my lord, I've

learnt By your example to correct their ills, And morn and evening give up the account.

Acast. Your pardon, sweet one, I upbraid you not; Or if I would, you are so good, I could not. “ Though I'm deceived, or you're more fair to-day; “ For beauty's heightened in your cheeks, and all 40 “ Your charms seem up, and ready in your eyes.

“ Mon. The little share I have's so very mean “ That it may easily admit addition; “ Though you, my lord, should most of all beware “ To give it too much praise, and make me proud. “Acast. Proud of an, old man's praises ; no,

Monimia ! " But if my prayers can work thee any good,

66 Thou shalt not want the largest share of 'em.”
Heard you no noise to-night?

Mon. Noise! my good lord !
Acast. About midnight.
Mon. Indeed, my lord, I don't remember any.
Acast. You must sure! went you early to your 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, or fairies haunt the

dwelling;
I'll have enquiry made through all the house,
But I'll find out the cause of these disorders.
Good-day to thee, Monimia-I'll to chapel.

[Exit Acasto. Mon. I'll but dispatch some orders to my woman,

Enter FLORELLA.
And wait upon your lordship there.
I fear the priest has play'd 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 compliment of sated 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 myself a weight of cares,
And how the burden will be borne, none knows.
A husband may be jealous, rigid, false !
And should Castalio e'er 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?
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.

[Exit Mon. and Maid.

SCENE 11.

A Chamber. Enter CASTALIO. Cast. Wish'd 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-fillid scrip " Of healthful viands, which, when hunger calls, " With much content and appetite he eats, “To follow in the fields 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 tow'rds the neighb'ring pastures, raise " Their voice, and bid their fellow brutes good

morrow;" The cheerful birds too, on the tops of trees, Assemble all in choirs, and with their notes 100 Salute and welcome up the rising sun. There's no condition sure so curs'd as mine, I'm marry'd ! 'Sdeath! I'm sped. How like a dog Look'd 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 arms,
My wishes, lord. May ev'ry morn begin
Like this; and with our days our loves renew.
Now I may hope ye're satisfy’d-

[Looking languishingly on him. Cast. I am Well satisfy'd, that thou art h

Mon. What? speak:
Art thou not well, Castalio? Come, lean
Upon my breast, 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,