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Cropt this fair rose, and rifled all its sweetness,
Then cast it like a loathsome weed away.

Acast. You talk to me in parables, Chamont,
You may have known that I'm no wórdy man;
Fine speeches are the instruments of knaves,
Of fools, that use 'em when they want good sense;
But honesty

Needs no disguise nor ornament. Be plain.

Cha. Your son

Acast. I've two; and both, I hope, have honour. Cha. I hope so too—but

Acast. Speak.

Cha. I must inform you,

Once more, Castalio!

Acast. Still Castalio!

Cha. Yes.

Your son Castalio has wrong'd Monimia.

Acast. Hah! wrong'd her?

Cha. Marry'd her.

Acast. I'm sorry for't.

Cha. Why sorry?

By yon blest heav'n, there's not a lord

But might be proud to take her to his heart.
Acast. I'll not deny't.

Cha. You dare not, by the gods

You dare not; all your family combin'd

In one damn'd falsehood to outdo Castalio,

Dare not deny't.

Acast. How has Castalio wrong'd her?

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Cha. Ask that of him. I say, my sister's wrong'd:

Monimia, my sister, born as high

And noble as Castalio-Do her justice,
Or, by the gods, I'll lay a scene of blood

Shall make this dwelling horrible to nature.
I'll do't. Hark you, my lord, your son Castalio,

Take him to your closet, and there teach him manners.

Acast. You shall have justice.

Cha. Nay, I will have justice.

Who'll sleep in safety that has done me wrong?
My lord, I'll not disturb you to repeat

The cause of this; I beg you (to preserve
Your house's honour) ask it of Castalio.

Acast. I will.

Cha. 'Till then, farewel

Acast. Farewel, proud boy.

Monimia !

Mon. My lord.

Acast. You are my daughter.

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[Exit.

Mon. I am, my lord, if you'll vouchsafe to own me. Acast. When you'll complain to me, I'll prove a fa

ther.

Mon. Now I'm undone for ever. Is there so wretched as Monimia? First by Castalio cruelly forsaken;

[Exit.

Who on earth

I've lost Acasto now: his parting frowns
May well instruct me, rage is in his heart :
"I shall be next abandon'd to my fortune,
"Thrust out a naked wand'rer to the world,
"And branded for the mischievous Monimia!
"What will become of me?" My cruel brother

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Is framing mischiefs too, for ought I know,
That may produce bloodshed and horrid murder.

I would not be the cause of one man's death

To reign the empress of the earth; nay, more,
I'd rather lose for ever my Castalio,

My dear unkind Castalio!

Enter POLYDOre.

Pol. Monimia weeping!

"So morning dews on new-blown roses lodge, "By the sun's am'rous heat to be exhal'd." I come, my love, to kiss all sorrow from thee, What mean these sighs? And why thus beats thy

heart?

Mon. Let me alone to sorrow. 'Tis a cause None e'er shall know but it shall with me die.

Pol. Happy, Monimia, he to whom these sighs,
These tears, and all these languishings, are paid!
I am no stranger to your dearest secret :

I know your heart was never meant for me,
That jewel's for an elder brother's price.
Mon. My Lord!

Pol. Nay, wonder not; last night I heard

His oaths, your vows, and to my torment saw

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Your wild embraces; heard the appointment made,
I did, Monimia, and I curs'd the sound.

Wilt thou be sworn, my love? wilt thou be ne'er
Unkind again?

Mon. Banish such fruitless hopes!

H

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?

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.

Pol. What says Monimia hah!

"Speak that again."

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Mon. I am Castalio's wife.

Pol. His marry'd, wedded wife?

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