_Mon._ No more: Oh, kill me here, or tell me my offence; I'll never quit you else, but on these knees Thus follow you all day, till they're worn bare, And hang upon you like a drowning creature. Castalio! _Cast._ Away! Last night, last night! _Mon._ It was our wedding-night. _Cast._ No more! forget it. _Mon._ Why? do you then repent? _Cast._ I do. _Mon._ O Heaven! And will you leave me thus? Help, help, Florella! [_He drags her to the door, breaks from her, and exit._ Help me to hold this yet loved cruel man. Oh, my heart breaks--I'm dying! Oh--stand off! I'll not indulge this woman's weakness; still, Chafed and fomented, let my heart swell on, Till with its injuries it burst, and shake, With the dire blow, this prison to the earth. _Flor._ What sad mistake has been the cause of this? _Mon._ Castalio! Oh, how often has he swore Nature should change, the sun and stars grow dark, Ere he would falsify his vows to me! Make haste, confusion, then! sun, lose thy light, And stars, drop dead with sorrow to the earth! For my Castalio's false. _Flor._ Unhappy day! _Mon._ False as the wind, the water, or the weather; Cruel as tigers o'er their trembling prey: I feel him in my breast, he tears my heart, And at each sigh he drinks the gushing blood. Must I be long in pain? _Enter_ CHAMONT. _Cham._ In tears, Monimia? _Mon._ Whoe'er thou art, Leave me alone to my beloved despair. _Cham._ Lift up thy eyes, and see who comes to cheer thee. Tell me the story of thy wrongs, and then See if my soul has rest till thou hast justice. _Mon._ My brother! _Cham._ Yes, Monimia, if thou think'st That I deserve the name, I am thy brother. _Mon._ O Castalio! _Cham._ Ha! Name me that name again! My soul's on fire Till I know all: there's meaning in that name. I know he is thy husband; therefore trust me With all the following truth-- _Mon._ Indeed, Chamont, There's nothing in it but the fault of nature: I'm often thus seized suddenly with grief, I know not why. _Cham._ You use me ill, Monimia; And I might think, with justice, most severely Of this unfaithful dealing with your brother. _Mon._ Truly I'm not to blame: suppose I'm fond, And grieve for what as much may please another? Should I upbraid the dearest friend on earth For the first fault? you would not do so, would you? _Cham._ Not if I'd cause to think it was a friend. _Mon._ Why do you then call this unfaithful dealing? I ne'er concealed my soul from you before: Bear with me now, and search my wounds no farther; For every probing pains me to the heart.