Polydore , our sport Has been to-day much better for the danger : When on the brink the foaming boar I met , And in his side thought to have lodg 'd my spear , The desperate savage rush 'd within my force , And bore me headlong with him down the rock . Ay , then , my brother , my friend , Polydore , Like Perseus mounted on his winged steed , Came on , and down the dang'rous precipice leap 'd To save Castilio .— ‘ Twas a godlike act ! So , Polydore , methinks , we might in war Rush on together ; thou shouldst be my guard , And I be thine . What is't could hurt us then ? Now half the youth of Europe are in arms , How fulsome must it be to stay behind , And die of rank diseases here at home ! Our father Has ta'en himself a surfeit of the world , And cries , it is not safe that we should taste it . I own , I have duty very pow'rful in me : And though I 'd hazard all to raise my name , Yet he 's so tender , and so good a father , I could not do a thing to cross his will . Have I a thought my Polydore should not know ? What can this mean ? As calmly as the wounded patient bears The artist 's hand , that ministers his cure . Suppose I should ? You 'd say , I must not . Is love a fault ? Then I must inform you I lov 'd her first , and cannot quit the claim ; But will preserve the birthright of my passion . I will . Why not ? No ; Not with my Polydore :— though I must own My nature obstinate , and void of suff'rance ; I could not bear a rival in my friendship , I am so much in love , and fond of thee . Not for crowns . Pr'ythee , where 's my fault ? Yes . No ;— sure we 're such friends , So much one man , that our affections too Must be united , and the same as we are . Love her still ; Win , and enjoy her . No matter Whose chance it prove ; but let 's not quarrel for't . Wed her ! No — were she all desire could wish , as fair As would the vainest of her sex be thought , With wealth beyond what woman 's pride could waste , She should not cheat me of my freedom .— Marry ! When I am old and weary of the world , I may grow desperate , And take a wife to mortify withal . Mere vanity , and silly dotage , all :— No , let me live at large , and when I die —— My friend , If he survive me ; if not , my king , Who may bestow't again on some brave man , Whose honesty and services deserve one . By yon heaven , I love My Polydore beyond all worldly joys ; And would not shock his quiet , to be blest With greater happiness than man e'er tasted . No matter whose . I was ; and should have met her here again . The opportunity shall now be thine ? But have a care , by friendship I conjure thee , That no false play be offer 'd to thy brother . Urge all thy powers to make thy passion prosper ; But wrong not mine . If't prove thy fortune , Polydore , to conquer ; Trust me , and let me know thy love 's success , That I may ever after stifle mine . Madam , my brother begs he may have leave To tell you something that concerns you nearly . I leave you , as becomes me , and withdraw . Madam ! He best can tell you . Business of importance Calls me away : I must attend my father . But for a moment . I could for ever hear thee ; but this time Matters of such odd circumstances press me , That I must go . The actions of your life were always wondrous . Your lordship 's wrongs have been So great , that you with justice may complain ; But suffer us , whose younger minds ne'er felt Fortune 's deceits , to court her , as she 's fair : Were she a common mistress , kind to all , Her worth would cease , and half the world grow idle . Methinks , I would be busy . I 'd serve my prince . I would , my lord . I 'd serve him with my fortune here at home , And serve him with my person in his wars : Watch for him , fight for him , bleed for him . Monimia , my angel ! ‘ twas not kind To leave me here alone . Re-enter Polydore , with Page , at the door . When thou art from me , every place is desert , And I , methinks , am savage and forlorn : Thy presence only ‘ tis can make me blest , Heal my unquiet mind , and tune my soul . What means my love ? Oh , how have I deserv 'd This language from the sovereign of my joys ? Stop , stop , these tears , Monimia , for they fall Like baneful dew from a distemper 'd sky ; I feel ‘ em chill me to my very heart . Who told you so ? what hell-bred villain durst Profane the sacred business of my love ? ‘ Tis I have been to blame , and only I ; False to my brother , and unjust to thee . For , oh ! he loves thee too , and this day own 'd it , Tax 'd me with mine , and claim 'd a right above me . I , knowing him precipitate and rash , Seem 'd to comply with his unruly will ; Lest he in rage might have our loves betray 'd , And I for ever had Monimia lost . Is this Monimia ? Surely , no ! till now I ever thought her dove-like , soft , and kind . Who trusts his heart with woman 's surely lost : You were made fair on purpose to undo us , While greedily we snatch th ’ alluring bait , And ne'er distrust the poison that it hides . It never wants pretences or excuse . Who can hear this and bear an equal mind ? Since you will drive me from you , I must go : But , O Monimia ! when thou hast banish 'd me , No creeping slave , though tractable and dull As artful woman for her ends would choose , Shall ever dote as I have done . Where am I ? Surely , Paradise is round me ! Sweets planted by the hand of heaven grow here , And every sense is full of thy perfection . Sure , framing thee , heaven took unusual care ; } As its own beauty it design 'd thee fair , } And form 'd thee by the best lov 'd angel there . } Angels preserve my dearest father 's life ! Oh ! may he live till time itself decay , Till good men wish him dead , or I offend him ! Would you but rest , it might restore you quite . Young Chamont and the chaplain ! sure ‘ tis they ! No matter what 's contriv 'd , or who consulted , Since my Monimia 's mine ; though this sad look Seems no good boding omen to our bliss ; Else , pr'ythee , tell me why that look cast down , Why that sad sigh , as if thy heart was breaking ? O , thou art tender all ! Gentle and kind as sympathising nature ! Re-enter Polydore , unobserved . But wherefore do I dally with my bliss ? The night 's far spent , and day draws on apace ; To bed , my love , and wake till I come thither . No more , my blessing . What shall be the sign ? When shall I come ? for to my joys I 'll steal , As if I ne'er had paid my freedom for them . Oh ! doubt it not , Monimia ; our joys Shall be as silent as the ecstatic bliss Of souls , that by intelligence converse . Away , my love ! first take this kiss . Now , haste : I long for that to come , yet grudge each minute past . My brother wand'ring too so late this way ! My Polydore , how dost thou ? How does our father ? is he well recover 'd ? Doubtless , well : A cruel beauty , with her conquest pleas 'd , Is always joyful , and her mind in health . She 's not woman else : Though I 'm grown weary of this tedious hoping ; We 've in a barren desart stray 'd too long . No ; she has still avoided me ; I wish I 'd never meddled with the matter , And would enjoin thee , Polydore —— To leave this peevish beauty to herself . But I have wond'rous reasons on my side , That would persuade thee , were they known . To-morrow I may tell you . It is a matter of such consequence , As I must well consult ere I reveal . But pr'ythee cease to think I would abuse thee , Till more be known . It seems you 've watch 'd me , then ? Pr'ythee avoid a thing thou may'st repent . Nay , if ye 're angry , Polydore , good night . Go , you 're an idle prattler : I 'll stay at home to-morrow ; if your lord Thinks fit , he may command my hounds . Go , leave me : I must to bed . No , my kind boy . Good night : commend me to my brother . You must be whipp 'd , youngster , if you get such songs as those are . What means this boy 's impertinence to-night ? Psalms , child , psalms . Well , leave me ; I 'm weary . Why , wert thou instructed to attend me ? What dost thou know ?—— ‘ Sdeath ! what can all this mean ? What 's that to me , boy ? That 's a wonder ! pr'ythee , tell it me . I will , my child . Talk 'd she of me when in her bed , Cordelio ? Hark ! what 's that noise ? Take this ; be gone , and leave me . You knave , you little flatterer , get you gone . ‘ Tis I . Suppose the lord Castalio . Ha ! have a care ! what can this mean ? Whoe'er thou art , I charge thee , to Monimia fly : Tell her I 'm here , and wait upon my doom . She must ! tell her , she shall ; go , I 'm in haste , And bring her tidings from the state of love . Or this will make me so . Obey me , or , by all the wrongs I suffer , I 'll scale the window and come in by force , Let the sad consequence be what it will ! This creature 's trifling folly makes me mad ! I 'll not believe't . Curses blast thee ! And farewell all that 's just in woman ! This is contriv 'd , a study 'd trick , to abuse My easy nature , and torment my mind ! ‘ Tis impudence to think my soul will bear it ! Let but to-morrow , but to-morrow , come , And try if all thy arts appease my wrong ; Till when , be this detested place my bed ; Who 's there ? Oh , leave me to my folly . Thou canst not serve me . Because my thoughts Are full of woman ; thou , poor wretch , art past them . Then I 'm thy friend , Ernesto ! Wish 'd morning 's come ! And now upon the plains , And distant mountains , where they feed their flocks , The happy shepherds leave their homely huts , And with their pipes proclaim the new-born day . There 's no condition sure so curs 'd as mine —— Monimia ! O Monimia ! Oh —— ‘ Tis here — ‘ tis in my head — ‘ tis in my heart — ‘ Tis every where : it rages like a madness , And I most wonder how my reason holds . No more , Monimia , of your sex 's arts : They 're useless all — I 'm not that pliant tool ; I know my charter better —— I am man , Obstinate man , and will not be enslav 'd ! Nay , you shall not , madam ; By yon bright heaven , you shall not : all the day I 'll play the tyrant , and at night forsake thee ; Nay , if I 've any too , thou shalt be made Subservient to my looser pleasures ; For thou hast wrong 'd Castalio . Away !—— Last night ! last night !—— No more !— Forget it ! I do . 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 . Who 's there So wretched but to name Castalio ? My father ! ‘ Tis joy to see you , though where sorrow 's nourish 'd . Sure my lord but mocks me : Go see Monimia ? Who has complain 'd ? What terms ? Her brother ! Heaven ! Where learn 'd he that ? What , does she send her hero with defiance ? He durst not sure affront you ? Speak , what said he ? Shame on the ill-manner 'd brute ! Your age secur 'd him ; he durst not else have said . 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 ? The slave is here . Then you are Chamont ? 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 . 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 . 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 . It shall not . Ha ! set me free . 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 . Damn her ! Did I ? I 'm sorry for't . No . That she 's my wife , may heaven and you forgive me . No . Why will you urge a thing my nature starts at ? 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 . Ha ! will she ? Does she name Castalio ? And with such tenderness ? Conduct me quickly To the poor lovely mourner . I cannot hear Monimia 's soul 's in sadness , And be a man : my heart will not forget her . 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 ! Who talks of dying , with a voice so sweet That life 's in love with it ? Here , my love . Have I been in a dream then all this while ? And art thou but the shadow of Monimia : Why dost thou fly me thus ? 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 . Thou hast not wrong 'd me . No . My better angel , then do thou inform me What danger threatens me , and where it lies ; Why wert thou When I stood waiting underneath the window , Deaf to my cries , and senseless of my pains ? 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 . Ne'er meet again ? 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 ? 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 . 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 . Who 's there ? My brother Polydore ? Canst thou inform me —— Of my Monimia ? In haste ! Methinks my Polydore appears in sadness . Do I ? Alas , I 've wondrous reason ! I 'm strangely alter 'd , brother , since I saw thee . I 'll tell thee , Polydore ; I would repose Within thy friendly bosom all my follies ; For thou wilt pardon ‘ em , because they 're mine . Why dost thou ask me that ? Does this appear Like a false friendship , when , with open arms And streaming eyes , I run upon thy breast ? Oh ! ‘ tis in thee alone I must have comfort ! Dost thou not love me then ? I hope I have . O Polydore , I know not how to tell thee ; Shame rises in my face , and interrupts The story of my tongue . Oh , much too oft . Our destiny contriv 'd To plague us both with one unhappy love ! Thou , like a friend , a constant , gen'rous friend , In its first pangs didst trust me with thy passion , Whilst I still smooth 'd my pain with smiles before thee , And made a contract I ne'er meant to keep . Still new ways I studied to abuse thee , And kept thee as a stranger to my passion , Till yesterday I wedded with Monimia . No ; to conceal't from thee was much a fault . How my heart throbs ! What will my fate do with me ? I 've lost all happiness , and know not why ! What means this , brother ? I 'll be thy slave , and thou shalt use me Just as thou wilt , do but forgive me . Oh ! think a little what thy heart is doing : How , from our infancy , we hand in hand Have trod the path of life in love together . One bed has held us , and the same desires , The same aversions , still employ 'd our thoughts . Whene'er had I a friend that was not Polydore 's , Or Polydore a foe that was not mine ? E'en in the womb we embrac 'd ; and wilt thou now , For the first fault , abandon and forsake me ? Leave me , amidst afflictions , to myself , Plung 'd in the gulf of grief , and none to help me ? What arts ? What ? Alas ! I can forgive e'en this to thee ; But let me tell thee , Polydore , I 'm griev 'd To find thee guilty of such low revenge , To wrong that virtue which thou couldst not ruin . Should the bravest man That e'er wore conq'ring sword , but dare to whisper What thou proclaim'st , he were the worst of liars . My friend may be mistaken . A base-born villain ! Thou art my brother still . Nay , then —— Ah !— ah !— that stings home ! Coward ! This to thy heart , then , though my mother bore thee ! What have I done ? my sword is in thy breast . Ye gods ! we 're taught that all your works are justice : Ye 're painted merciful , and friends to innocence : If so , then why these plagues upon my head ? By thee ? Now , where 's Monimia ? Oh ! Ay , brother 's blood ! Art thou prepar 'd for everlasting pains ? Not kill her ? Tell me that story , And thou wilt make a wretch of me , indeed . O , I 'm the unhappy wretch , whose cursed fate Has weigh 'd you down into destruction with him : Why then thus kind to me ! Stand off ; thou hot-brain 'd , boisterous , noisy , ruffian ! And leave me to my sorrows . Vanish , I charge thee ! or — Thou , unkind Chamont , Unjustly hast pursu 'd me with thy hate , And sought the life of him that never wrong 'd thee : Now , if thou wilt embrace a noble vengeance , Come join with me , and curse —— Patience ! preach it to the winds , To roaring seas , or raging fires ! for , curs 'd As I am now , ‘ tis this must give me patience : Thus I find , rest , and shall complain no more . For I perceive they fall with weight upon him —— And , for Monimia 's sake , whom thou wilt find I never wrong 'd , be kind to poor Serina —— Now all I beg is , lay me in one grave Thus with my love : farewell ! I now am nothing .