_Ser._ Let my knees Fix to the earth; ne'er let my eyes have rest, But wake and weep, till Heaven restore my father! _Acast._ Rise to my arms, and thy kind prayers are answered, For thou'rt a wondrous extract of all goodness, Born for my joy, and no pain's felt when near thee. _Enter_ CHAMONT. Chamont! _Cham._ My lord, may't prove not an unlucky omen! Many I see are waiting round about you, And I am come to ask a blessing too. _Acast._ Mayst thou be happy! _Cham._ Where? _Acast._ In all thy wishes. _Cham._ Confirm me so, and make this fair one mine. I am unpractised in the trade of courtship, And know not how to deal love out with art: Onsets in love seem best like those in war, Fierce, resolute, and done with all the force; So I would open my whole heart at once, And pour out the abundance of my soul. _Acast._ What says Serina? Canst thou love a soldier? One born to honour, and to honour bred? One that has learnt to treat even foes with kindness; To wrong no good man's fame, nor praise himself? _Ser._ Oh, name not love, for that's allied to joy; And joy must be a stranger to my heart, When you're in danger. May Chamont's good fortune Render him lovely to some happier maid! Whilst I at friendly distance see him blest, Praise the kind gods, and wonder at his virtues. _Acast._ Chamont, pursue her, conquer and possess her; And, as my son, a third of all my fortune Shall be thy lot. But keep thy eyes from wandering, man of frailty: Beware the dangerous beauty of the wanton; Shun their enticements; ruin, like a vulture, Waits on their conquests: falsehood too's their business; They put[20] false beauty off to all the world; Use false endearments to the fools that love 'em; And, when they marry, to their silly husbands They bring false virtue, broken fame and fortune. _Ser._ Hear ye that, my lord? _Cham._ Yes, my fair monitor, old men always talk thus. _Acast._ Chamont, you told me of some doubts that pressed you. Are you yet satisfied that I'm your friend? _Cham._ My lord, I would not lose that satisfaction For any blessing I could wish for. As to my fears, already I have lost them; They ne'er shall vex me more, nor trouble you. _Acast._ I thank you. Daughter, you must do so too. My friends, 'tis late; For my disorder, it seems all past and over, And I methinks begin to feel new health. _Cast._ Would you but rest, it might restore you quite. _Acast._ Yes, I'll to bed; old men must humour weakness. Let me have music then, to lull and chase This melancholy thought of death away. Good-night, my friends! Heaven guard ye all! Good-night! To-morrow early we'll salute the day, Find out new pleasures, and redeem lost time.