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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 basely 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, 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;
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!

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Oh, may he live till time itself decay,
'Till good men wish him dead, or I offend him!
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,

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love ;

I have divided it betwixt you both,
Equally parted, as you

shar'd

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

co 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!

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Acast. My heart's darling!
Ser. Let

my

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!

Enter CHAMONT.
Cha. My Lord, may't prove not an unlucky omen.
Many I see are waiting round about you,
And I am come to ask a blessing too!

Acast. May'st thou be happy!
Cha. Where?
Acast. In all thy wishes.

Cha. Confirm me so, and make this fair one mine;
I am unpractis'd in the trade of courtship,
And know not how to deal love out with art :
Onsets in love seem best like those in war,
Fierce, resolute, and done with all the force ;
So I would open my whole heart at once,
And pour out the abundance of my soul.

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,

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