No More Learning

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.

_Acas. _ You shall have justice.

_Cham. _ 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. [_exit. _

_Acas. _ Farewell, proud boy. --
Monimia!

_Mon. _ My lord.

_Acas. _ You are my daughter.

_Mon. _ I am, my lord, if you'll vouchsafe to own me.

_Acas. _ When you'll complain to me, I'll prove a father. [_exit. _

_Mon. _ Now I'm undone for ever! Who on earth
Is there so wretched as Monimia?
First by Castalio cruelly forsaken;
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
Is framing mischiefs, too, for aught 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. [_sits down. _

_Enter Polydore. _

_Pol. _ Monimia weeping!
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 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
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!
Have you sworn constancy to my undoing?
Will you be ne'er my friend again?

_Pol. _ What means my love?

_Mon. _ What meant my lord?
Last night?

_Pol. _ Is that a question now to be demanded?

_Mon. _ Was it well done
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.

_Mon. _ Ha! --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'd trust thee with my life; on that soft bosom
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 the 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.

_Mon. _ 'Tis done. [_faints. _

_Pol. _ She faints! --no help! --who waits? --A curse
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 betrayed.
Monimia! --she breathes! --Monimia!

_Mon. _ Well----
Let mischiefs multiply! let every hour
Of my loath'd life yield me increase of horror!
O 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. _ O 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?

_Mon. _ I am Castalio's wife!

_Pol. _ His marry'd, wedded, wife?

_Mon. _ Yesterday's sun
Saw it perform'd!

_Pol. _ My brother's wife?

_Mon. _ As surely as we both
Must taste of misery, that guilt is thine.

_Pol. _ Oh! thou may'st 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.

_Mon. _ Then thou wouldst more undo me: heap a load
Of added sin upon my wretched head!
Wouldst thou again have me betray thy brother,
And bring pollution to his arms? --Curs'd thought!
Oh! when shall I be mad indeed! [_exit. _

_Pol. _ Then thus I'll go;--
Full of my guilt, distracted where to roam:
I'll find some place where adders nest in winter,
Loathsome and venomous; where poisons hang
Like gums against the walls: there I'll inhabit,
And live up to the height of desperation.
Desire shall languish like a with'ring flower,
Horrors shall fright me from those pleasing harms,
And I'll no more be caught with beauty's charms. [_exit. _




ACT THE FIFTH.


SCENE I. A GARDEN.

_Castalio discovered lying on the ground; soft music. _

_Cas. _ See where the deer trot after one another;
No discontent they know; but in delightful
Wildness and freedom, pleasant springs, fresh herbage,
Calm arbours, lusty health, and innocence,
Enjoy their portion:--if they see a man,
How will they turn together all, and gaze
Upon the monster!
Once in a season, too, they taste of love:
Only the beast of reason is its slave;
And in that folly drudges all the year.

_Enter Acasto. _

_Acas. _ Castalio! Castalio!

_Cas. _ Who's there
So wretched but to name Castalio?

_Acas. _ I hope my message may succeed.

_Cas. _ My father!
'Tis joy to see you, though where sorrow's nourish'd.

_Acas. _ Castalio, you must go along with me,
And see Monimia.

_Cas. _ Sure my lord but mocks me:
Go see Monimia?

_Acas. _ I say, no more dispute.
Complaints are made to me that you have wrong'd her.

_Cas. _ Who has complain'd?

_Acas. _ Her brother to my face proclaim'd her wrong'd,
And in such terms they've warm'd me.

_Cas. _ What terms? Her brother! Heaven!
Where learn'd he that?
What, does she send her hero with defiance?
He durst not sure affront you?

_Acas. _ No, not much:
But----

_Cas. _ Speak, what said he?

_Acas. _ That thou wert a villain:
Methinks I would not have thee thought a villain.

_Cas. _ Shame on the ill-manner'd brute!
Your age secur'd him; he durst not else have said.

_Acas. _ By my sword,
I would not see thee wrong'd, and bear it vilely:
Though I have pass'd my word she shall have justice.

_Cas. _ Justice! to give her justice would undo her.
Think you this solitude I now have chosen,
Wish'd to have grown one piece
With this cold day, and all without a cause?

_Enter Chamont. _

_Cham. _ Where is the hero, famous and renown'd
For wronging innocence, and breaking vows;
Whose mighty spirit, and whose stubborn heart,
No woman can appease, nor man provoke?

_Acas. _ I guess, Chamont, you come to seek Castalio?

_Cham. _ I come to seek the husband of Monimia.

_Cas. _ The slave is here.

_Cham. _ I thought ere now to have found you
Atoning for the ills you've done Chamont:
For you have wrong'd the dearest part of him.
Monimia, young lord, weeps in this heart;
And all the tears thy injuries have drawn
From her poor eyes, are drops of blood from hence.

_Cas.
_ Then you are Chamont?

_Cham. _ Yes, and I hope no stranger
To great Castalio.

_Cas. _ I've heard of such a man,
That has been very busy with my honour.
I own I'm much indebted to you, sir,
And here return the villain back again
You sent me by my father.

_Cham. _ Thus I'll thank you. [_draws. _

_Acas. _ By this good sword, who first presumes to violence,
Makes me his foe. [_draws and interposes. _

_Cas. _ Sir, in my younger years with care you taught me
That brave revenge was due to injur'd honour:
Oppose not then the justice of my sword,
Lest you should make me jealous of your love.

_Cham. _ Into thy father's arms thou fly'st for safety,
Because thou know'st that place is sanctify'd
With the remembrance of an ancient friendship.

_Cas. _ I am a villain, if I will not seek thee,
Till I may be reveng'd for all the wrongs
Done me by that ungrateful fair thou plead'st for.

_Cham. _ She wrong'd thee? By the fury in my heart,
Thy father's honour's not above Monimia's;
Nor was thy mother's truth and virtue fairer.

_Acas. _ Boy, don't disturb the ashes of the dead
With thy capricious follies; the remembrance
Of the lov'd creature that once fill'd these arms----

_Cham. _ Has not been wrong'd.

_Cas. _ It shall not.

_Cham. _ No, nor shall
Monimia, though a helpless orphan, destitute
Of friends and fortune, though the unhappy sister
Of poor Chamont, whose sword is all his portion,
Be oppress'd by thee, thou proud, imperious traitor!

_Cas. _ Ha! set me free.

_Cham. _ Come, both.

_Cas. _ Sir, if you'd have me think you did not take
This opportunity to show your vanity,
Let's meet some other time, when by ourselves
We fairly may dispute our wrongs together.

_Cham. _ Till then I am Castalio's friend. [_exit. _

_Acas. _ Would I'd been absent when this boist'rous brave
Came to disturb thee thus. I'm griev'd I hinder'd
Thy just resentment----But, Monimia----

_Cas. _ Damn her!

_Acas. _ Don't curse her.

_Cas. _ Did I?

_Acas. _ Yes.

_Cas. _ I'm sorry for't.

_Acas. _ Methinks, if, as I guess, the fault's but small,
It might be pardon'd.

_Cas. _ No.

_Acas. _ What has she done?

_Cas. _ That she's my wife, may heaven and you forgive me.

_Acas. _ Be reconcil'd then.

_Cas. _ No.

_Acas. _ For my sake,
Castalio, and the quiet of my age.

_Cas. _ Why will you urge a thing my nature starts at?

_Acas. _ Pr'ythee, forgive her.

_Cas. _ Lightnings first shall blast me!
I tell you, were she prostrate at my feet,
Full of her sex's best dissembled sorrows
And all that wondrous beauty of her own,
My heart might break, but it should never soften.

_Acas. _ Did you but know the agonies she feels--
She flies with fury over all the house;
Through every room of each department, crying,
"Where's my Castalio! Give me my Castalio! "
Except she sees you, sure she'll grow distracted!

_Cas. _ Ha! will she? Does she name Castalio?
And with such tenderness? Conduct me quickly
To the poor lovely mourner.

_Acas. _ Then wilt thou go? Blessings attend thy purpose!

_Cas. _ I cannot hear Monimia's soul's in sadness,
And be a man: my heart will not forget her.

_Acas. _ Delay not then; but haste and cheer thy love.

_Cas. _ Oh! I will throw my impatient arms about her;
In her soft bosom sigh my soul to peace;
Till through the panting breast she finds the way
To mould my heart, and make it what she will.
Monimia! Oh! [_exeunt. _


SCENE II. A CHAMBER.

_Enter Monimia. _

_Mon. _ Stand off, and give me room;
I will not rest till I have found Castalio,
My wish's lord, comely as the rising day.
I cannot die in peace till I have seen him.

_Enter Castalio. _

_Cas. _ Who talks of dying, with a voice so sweet
That life's in love with it?

_Mon. _ Hark! 'tis he that answers.
Where art thou?

_Cas. _ Here, my love.

_Mon. _ No nearer, lest I vanish.

_Cas. _ Have I been in a dream then all this while?
And art thou but the shadow of Monimia:
Why dost thou fly me thus?

_Mon. _ Oh! were it possible that we could drown
In dark oblivion but a few past hours,
We might be happy.

_Cas. _ Is't then so hard, Monimia, to forgive
A fault, when humble love, like mine, implores thee?
For I must love thee, though it prove my ruin.
I'll kneel to thee, and weep a flood before thee.
Yet pr'ythee, tyrant, break not quite my heart;
But when my task of penitence is done,
Heal it again, and comfort me with love.

_Mon. _ If I am dumb, Castalio, and want words
To pay thee back this mighty tenderness,
It is because I look on thee with horror,
And cannot see the man I have so wrong'd.

_Cas. _ Thou hast not wrong'd me.

_Mon. _ Ah! alas, thou talk'st
Just as thy poor heart thinks. Have not I wrong'd thee?

_Cas. _ No.

_Mon. _ Still thou wander'st in the dark, Castalio;
But wilt, ere long, stumble on horrid danger.

_Cas. _ My better angel, then do thou inform me
What danger threatens me, and where it lies;
Why wert thou (pr'ythee, smile, and tell me why)
When I stood waiting underneath the window,
Deaf to my cries, and senseless of my pains?

_Mon. _ Did I not beg thee to forbear inquiry?
Read'st thou not something in my face, that speaks
Wonderful change, and horror from within me?

_Cas. _ If, lab'ring in the pangs of death,
Thou wouldst do any thing to give me ease,
Unfold this riddle ere my thoughts grow wild,
And let in fears of ugly form upon me.

_Mon. _ My heart won't let me speak it; but remember,
Monimia, poor Monimia, tells you this:
We ne'er must meet again----

_Cas. _ Ne'er meet again?

_Mon. _ No, never.

_Cas. _ Where's the power
On earth, that dares not look like thee, and say so?
Thou art my heart's inheritance: I serv'd
A long and faithful slavery for thee;
And who shall rob me of the dear-bought blessing?

_Mon. _ Time will clear all; but now let this content you:
Heaven has decreed, and therefore I've resolv'd
(With torment I must tell it thee, Castalio)
Ever to be a stranger to thy love,
In some far distant country waste my life,
And from this day to see thy face no more.

_Cas. _ Why turn'st thou from me? I'm alone already.
Methinks I stand upon a naked beach,
Sighing to winds, and to the seas complaining,
Whilst afar off the vessel sails away,
Where all the treasure of my soul's embark'd;
Wilt thou not turn? --Oh! could those eyes but speak,
I should know all, for love is pregnant in 'em;
They swell, they press their beams upon me still:
Wilt thou not speak? If we must part for ever,
Give me but one kind word to think upon,
And please myself withal, whilst my heart's breaking.

_Mon. _ Ah! poor Castalio! [_exit. _

_Cas. _ What means all this? Why all this stir to plague
A single wretch? If but your word can shake
This world to atoms, why so much ado
With me? think me but dead, and lay me so.

_Enter Polydore. _

_Pol. _ To live, and live a torment to myself,
What dog would bear't, that knew but his condition?
We've little knowledge, and that makes us cowards,
Because it cannot tell us what's to come.

_Cas. _ Who's there?

_Pol. _ Why, what art thou?

_Cas. _ My brother Polydore?

_Pol. _ My name is Polydore.

_Cas. _ Canst thou inform me----

_Pol. _ Of what?

_Cas. _ Of my Monimia?

_Pol. _ No. Good day!

_Cas. _ In haste!
Methinks my Polydore appears in sadness.

_Pol. _ Indeed! and so to me does my Castalio.

_Cas. _ Do I?

_Pol. _ Thou dost.

_Cas. _ Alas, I've wondrous reason!
I'm strangely alter'd, brother, since I saw thee.

_Pol.