Have you swore constancy to my undoing?

Will

you be ne'er my friend again?

Pol. What means my love?

Mon. Away; what meant my lord

Last night?

Pol. Is that a question now to be demanded?

I hope Monimia was not much displeas'd.

Mon. Was it well done to treat me like a prostitute? T'assault my lodging at the dead of night,

And threaten me if I deny'd admittance-
You said you were Castalio-

Pol. By those eyes

It was the same: I spent my time much better; 440 I tell thee, ill-natur'd fair-one, I was posted

To more advantage, on a pleasant hill

Of springing joy, and everlasting sweetness.
Mon. Hah-have a care-

Pol. Where is the danger near me?

Mon. I fear you're on a rock will wreck your quiet, And drown your soul in wretchedness for ever; A thousand horrid thoughts crowd on my memory. Will you be kind, and answer me one question?

Pol. I'll trust thee with my life; on those soft breasts Breathe out the choicest secrets of my heart,

Till I had nothing in it left but love.

Mon. Nay, I'll conjure you by the gods and angels, By th' honour of your name, that's most concern'd, To tell me, Polydore, and tell me truly,

Where did you rest last night?

The ORPHAN

frondon Printed for JBell British Library, Strand, 27 Mar1791.

Delattresculp

Pol. Within thy arms

I triumph'd: rest had been my foe.

Mon. 'Tis done

[She faints.

Pol. She faints! No help! who waits? A curse 460

Upon my vanity, that could not keep
The secret of my happiness in silence.
Confusion! we shall be surpris'd anon,
And consequently all must be betray'd.
Monimia! She breathes-Monimia-
Mon. Well-

Let mischiefs multiply! Let ev'ry hour
Of my loath'd life yield me increase of horror!
Oh, let the sun to these unhappy eyes
Ne'er shine again, but be eclips'd for ever;
May every thing I look on seem a prodigy,
To fill my soul with terrors, till I quite.
Forget I ever had humanity,

And grow a curser of the works of nature!
Pol. What means all this?

Mon. Oh, Polydore, if all

The friendship e'er you vow'd to good Castalio
Be not a falsehood; if you ever lov'd

Your brother, you've undone yourself and me.

Pol. Which way can ruin reach the man that's rich,

As I am, in possession of thy sweetness ?

Mon. Oh! I'm his wife.

481

Mon. Yesterday's sun

Saw it perform'd.

Pol. And then, have I enjoy'd

My brother's wife?

Mon. As surely as we both

Must taste of misery, that guilt is thine.
"Pol. Must we be miserable then?
"Mon. Oh !”

Pol. Oh! thou mayst yet be happy.
Mon. Couldst thou be

Happy, with such a weight upon thy soul?
Pol. It may be yet a secret; I'll go try
To reconcile and bring Castalio to thee;
Whilst from the world I take myself away,
And waste my life in penance for my sin.

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Mon. Then thou wouldst more undo me; heap a

load

Of added sins upon my wretched head.

Wouldst thou again have me betray thy brother,
And bring pollution to his arms? Curst thought!
Oh, when shall I be mad indeed!

"Pol. Nay, then

[Ex. Mon.

"Let us embrace, and from this very moment "Vow an eternal misery together.

"Mon. And wilt thou be a very faithful wretch? "Never grow fond of cheerful peace again? "Wilt thou with me study to be unhappy, "And find out ways how to increase affliction? "Pol. We'll institute new arts unknown before, "To vary plagues, and make 'em look like new ones.