| Cas. I could for ever hear thee; but this time |
| Matters of such odd circumstances press me, |
| That I must go.[exit. |
| |
| Mon. Then go, and, if't be possible, for ever. |
| Well, my lord Polydore, I guess your business, |
| And read th' ill-natur'd purpose in your eyes. |
| |
| Pol. If to desire you, more than misers wealth, |
| Or dying men an hour of added life; |
| If softest wishes, and a heart more true |
| Than ever suffer'd yet for love disdain'd, |
| Speak an ill nature; you accuse me justly. |
| |
| Mon. Talk not of love, my lord, I must not hear it. |
| |
| Pol. Who can behold such beauty, and be silent? |
| Desire first taught us words. Man, when created, |
| At first alone long wander'd up and down |
| Forlorn and silent as his vassal beasts: |
| But when a heav'n-born maid, like you, appear'd, |
| Strange pleasures fill'd his eyes and fir'd his heart, |
| Unloos'd his tongue, and his first talk was love. |
| |
| Mon. The first created pair indeed were bless'd; |
| They were the only objects of each other, |
| Therefore he courted her, and her alone; |
| But in this peopled world of beauty, where |
| There's roving room, where you may court, and ruin |
| A thousand more, why need you talk to me? |
| |
| Pol. Oh! I could talk to thee for ever. Thus |
| Eternally admiring, fix, and gaze, |
| On those dear eyes; for every glance they send |
| Darts through my soul. |
| |
| Mon. How can you labour thus for my undoing? |
| I must confess, indeed, I owe you more |
| Than ever I can hope, or think, to pay. |
| There always was a friendship 'twixt our families; |
| And therefore when my tender parents dy'd, |
| Whose ruin'd fortunes too expir'd with them, |
| Your father's pity and his bounty took me, |
| A poor and helpless orphan, to his care. |
| |
| Pol. 'Twas Heav'n ordain'd it so, to make me happy. |
| Hence with this peevish virtue, 'tis a cheat; |
| And those who taught it first were hypocrites. |
| Come, these soft tender limbs were made for yielding. |
| |
| Mon. Here, on my knees, by heav'n's blest pow'r I swear, |
| [kneels. |
| If you persist, I ne'er henceforth will see you, |
| But rather wander through the world a beggar, |
| And live on sordid scraps at proud men's doors; |
| For, though to fortune lost, I'll still inherit |
| My mother's virtues, and my father's honour. |
| |
| Pol. Intolerable vanity! your sex |
| Was never in the right! y'are always false, |
| Or silly; ev'n your dresses are not more |
| Fantastic than your appetites; you think |
| Of nothing twice; opinion you have none. |
| To-day y'are nice, to-morrow not so free; |
| Now smile, then frown; now sorrowful, then glad; |
| Now pleas'd, now not: and all, you know not why! |
| |
| Mon. Indeed, my lord, |
| I own my sex's follies; I have 'em all; |
| And, to avoid its fault, must fly from you. |
| Therefore, believe me, could you raise me high |
| As most fantastic woman's wish could reach, |
| And lay all nature's riches at my feet; |
| I'd rather run a savage in the woods, |
| Amongst brute beasts, grow wrinkled and deform'd, |
| So I might still enjoy my honour safe, |
| From the destroying wiles of faithless men.[exit. |
| |
| Pol. Who'd be that sordid thing call'd man? |
| I'll yet possess my love; it shall be so.[exeunt. |
ACT THE SECOND.
SCENE I.A SALOON.
| Enter Acasto, Castalio, Polydore, and Attendants. |
| |
| Acas. To-day has been a day of glorious sport: |
| When you, Castalio, and your brother, left me, |
| Forth from the thickets rush'd another boar, |
| So large, he seem'd the tyrant of the woods, |
| With all his dreadful bristles rais'd up high, |
| They seem'd a grove of spears upon his back; |
| Foaming he came at me, where I was posted |
| Best to observe which way he'd lead the chase, |
| Whetting his huge large tusks, and gaping wide, |
| As if he already had me for his prey! |
| Till, brandishing my well-pois'd javelin high, |
| With this bold executing arm I struck |
| The ugly brindled monster to the heart. |
| |
| Cas. The actions of your life were always wondrous. |
| |
| Acas. No flattery, boy! an honest man can't live by't; |
| It is a little sneaking art, which knaves |
| Use to cajole and soften fools withal. |
| If thou hast flattery in thy nature, out with't, |
| Or send it to a court, for there 'twill thrive. |
| |
| Cas. Your lordship's wrongs have been |
|
|