She hears me not? sure, she already sleeps! Her wishes could not brook so long delay, And her poor heart has beat itself to rest.[knocks. Once more—— Flo. [at the window] Who's there, That comes thus rudely to disturb our rest? Cas. 'Tis I. Flo. Who are you? what's your name? Cas. Suppose the lord Castalio. Flo. I know you not. The lord Castalio has no business here. Cas. 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. Flo. Whoe'er you are, you may repent this outrage: My lady must not be disturb'd. Good night! Cas. She must! tell her, she shall; go, I'm in haste, And bring her tidings from the state of love. Flo. Sure the man's mad! Cas. 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! Flo. My lady's answer is, you may depart. She says she knows you: you are Polydore, Sent by Castalio, as you were to-day, T'affront and do her violence again. Cas. I'll not believe't. Flo. You may, sir. Cas. Curses blast thee! Flo. Well, 'tis a fine cool ev'ning! and I hope May cure the raging fever in your blood! Good night. Cas. 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;[lies down. Where I will ruminate on woman's ills, Laugh at myself, and curse th' inconstant sex. Faithless Monimia! O Monimia! Enter Ernesto. Ern. Either My sense has been deluded, or this way I heard the sound of sorrow; 'tis late night, And none, whose mind's at peace, would wander now. Cas. Who's there? Ern. Castalio!—My lord, why in this posture, Stretch'd on the ground? your honest, true, old servant, Your poor Ernesto, cannot see you thus. Rise, I beseech you. Cas. Oh, leave me to my folly. Ern. I can't leave you, And not the reason know of your disorders. Remember how, when young, I in my arms Have often borne you, pleas'd you in your pleasures, And sought an early share in your affection. Do not discard me now, but let me serve you. Cas. Thou canst not serve me. Ern. Why? Cas. Because my thoughts Are full of woman; thou, poor wretch, art past them. Ern. I hate the sex. Cas. Then I'm thy friend, Ernesto![rises. I'd leave the world for him that hates a woman! Woman, the fountain of all human frailty! What mighty ills have not been done by woman? Who was't betray'd the capitol?—a woman! Who lost Mark Antony the world?—a woman! Who was the cause of a long ten years' war, And laid at last old Troy in ashes?—Woman!