_Mon._ When I'm laid low i' the grave, and quite forgotten, Mayst thou be happy in a fairer bride! But none can ever love thee like Monimia. When I am dead,--as presently I shall be, For the grim tyrant grasps my heart already,-- Speak well of me; and if thou find ill tongues Too busy with my fame, don't hear me wronged; 'Twill be a noble justice to the memory Of a poor wretch once honoured with thy love. How my head swims!--'tis very dark. Good-night! [_Dies._ _Cast._ If I survive thee! what a thought was that! Thank Heaven, I go prepared against that curse! _Enter_ CHAMONT, _disarmed, and held by_ ACASTO _and_ Servants. _Cham._ Gape, hell, and swallow me to quick damnation, If I forgive your house, if I not live An everlasting plague to thee, Acasto, And all thy race! You've overpowered me now; But hear me, Heaven!--Ah! here's the scene of death. My sister, my Monimia! breathless!--Now, Ye powers above, if ye have justice, strike, Strike bolts through me, and through the cursed Castalio! _Acast._ My Polydore! _Pol._ Who calls? _Acast._ How camest thou wounded? _Cast._ Stand off, thou hot-brained, boisterous, noisy ruffian, And leave me to my sorrows. _Cham._ By the love I bore her living, I will ne'er forsake her! But here remain till my heart burst with sobbing. _Cast._ Vanish, I charge thee, or-- [_Draws a dagger._ _Cham._ Thou canst not kill me; That would be kindness, and against thy nature. _Acast._ What means Castalio? Sure thou wilt not pull More sorrows on thy agèd father's head. Tell me, I beg you, tell me the sad cause Of all this ruin. _Pol._ That must be my task: But 'tis too long for one in pains to tell; You'll in my closet find the story written Of all our woes. Castalio's innocent, And so's Monimia; only I'm to blame: Inquire no farther. _Cast._ Thou, unkind Chamont, Unjustly hast pursued me with thy hate, And sought the life of him that never wronged thee: Now, if thou wilt embrace a noble vengeance, Come join with me and curse. _Cham._ What? _Cast._ First thyself, As I do, and the hour that gave thee birth. Confusion and disorder seize the world, To spoil all trust and converse amongst men; 'Twixt families engender endless feuds, In countries needless fears, in cities factions, In states rebellion, and in churches schism; Till all things move against the course of nature; Till form's dissolved, the chain of causes broken, And the originals of being lost! _Acast._ Have patience.