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Page. At first I thought they had been mortal foes;
Pol. But what succeeded?
Page. Oh, 'twas wond'rous pretty!
Pol. Happy Castalio! Now, by my great soul,
Her sinking virtue, till she yielded quite.
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, 40 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. 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;
friends ? 'Tis well;
Enter CASTALIO and MONIMIA.
Cast. My lord, your chaplain.
I have divided it betwixt you both,
my 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, 80 “ 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
“ 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!
Acast. My heart's darling!
knees Fix to the earth. Ne'er let my eyes have rest, But wake and weep, till Heaven restore my father. Acast. Rise to my arms, and thy kind pray'rs are
answer'd. For thou’rt a wond'rous extract of all goodness, Born for my joy, and no pain's felt when near thee. Chamont!
Acast. May'st thou be happy!
Cha. Confirm me so, and make this fair one mine;
Acast. What says Serina? Canst thou love a soldier? One born to honour, and to honour bred ? One that has learn’d to treat e'en foes with kindness; To wrong no good man's fame, nor praise himself?
Ser. Oh! name not love, for that's ally'd to joy, And joy must be a stranger to my heart,