_Cast._ Sir, 'twas my last request You would, though you I find will not be satisfied: So, in a word, Monimia is my scorn; She basely sent you here to try my fears; That was your business. No artful prostitute, in falsehoods practised, To make advantage of her coxcomb's follies, Could have done more--disquiet vex her for't! _Cham._ Farewell. [_Exeunt_ CHAMONT _and_ SERINA. _Cast._ Farewell.--My father, you seem troubled. _Acast._ Would I'd been absent when this boisterous brave Came to disturb thee thus! I'm grieved I hindered Thy just resentment. But Monimia-- _Cast._ Damn her! _Acast._ Don't curse her. _Cast._ Did I? _Acast._ Yes. _Cast._ I'm sorry for't. _Acast._ Methinks, if, as I guess, the fault's but small, It might be pardoned. _Cast._ No. _Acast._ What has she done? _Cast._ That she's my wife, may Heaven and you forgive me! _Acast._ Be reconciled then. _Cast._ No. _Acast._ Go see her. _Cast._ No. _Acast._ I'll send and bring her hither. _Cast._ No. _Acast._ For my sake, Castalio, and the quiet of my age. _Cast._ Why will you urge a thing my nature starts at? _Acast._ Pr'ythee forgive her. _Cast._ 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. _Enter_ FLORELLA. _Flor._ My lord, where are you? O Castalio! _Acast._ Hark! _Cast._ What's that? _Flor._ Oh, show me quickly, where's Castalio? _Acast._ Why, what's the business? _Flor._ Oh, the poor Monimia! _Cast._ Ha! _Acast._ What's the matter? _Flor._ Hurried by despair, She flies with fury over all the house, Through every room of each apartment, crying, "Where's my Castalio? give me my Castalio!" Except she sees you, sure she'll grow distracted. _Cast._ Ha! will she? does she name Castalio? And with such tenderness? Conduct me quickly To the poor lovely mourner. O my father! _Acast._ Then wilt thou go? Blessings attend thy purpose. _Cast._ I cannot hear Monimia's soul in sadness, And be a man; my heart will not forget her. But do not tell the world you saw this of me. _Acast._ Delay not then, but haste and cheer thy love. _Cast._ 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._ [Illustration] SCENE II.--_A Room in_ ACASTO'S _House_. _Enter_ MONIMIA.