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. |
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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 |
|