 | The Orphan : or, The Unhappy-Marriage |  |
1
ACT I.
SCENE I.
Enter Paulino and Ernesto.Paul.
'Tis strange, Ernesto, this severity
Should still reign pow'rful in Acasto's mind,
To hate the Court where he
Was bred and liv'd,
All Honours heap'd on him that Pow'r cou'd give.
Ernest.
'Tis true, He came thither a private Gentleman,
But young and brave, and of a Family
Ancient and Noble as the Empire holds.
The Honours he has gain'd are justly his;
He purchas'd them in War; thrice has he led
An Army against the Rebels, and as often
Return'd with Victory; the world has not
A truer Souldier, or a better Subject.
Paul.
It was his Vertue that first made me serve him;
He is the best of Masters as of Friends.
I know he has lately been invited thither;
Yet still he keeps his stubborn purpose, cries,
He's old, and willingly would be at rest:
I doubt there's deep resentment in his mind,
For the late slight his Honour suffer'd there.
Ernest.
Has he not reason? When for what he had born
Long, hard, and faithful Toyl, he might have claim'd
2
A huffing shining flat'ring cringing Coward,
A Canker-worm of Peace was rais'd above him.
Paul.
Yet still he holds Just value for the King,
Nor ever Names him but with highest reverence.
'Tis Noble that—
Ern.
Oh! I have heard him wanton in his praise,
Speak things of him might Charm the Ears of envy.
Paul.
Oh may he live till Natures self grow old,
And from her Womb no more can bless the Earth!
For when he dies, farewell all Honour, Bounty,
All generous encouragement of Arts,
For Charity her self becomes a Widdow.
Ern.
No, he has two Sons that were ordain'd to be
As well his Vertues, as his Fortunes Heirs.
Paul.
They're both of Nature mild, and full of sweetness.
They came Twins from the VVomb, and still they live,
As if they would go Twins too to the Grave:
Neither has any thing he calls his own,
But of each others joys as griefs partaking;
So very honestly, so well they love,
As they were only for each other born.
Ern.
Never was Parent in an Off-spring happier,
He has a Daughter too, whose blooming Age
Promises Goodness equal to her Beauty.
Paul.
And as there is a Friendship 'twixt the Brethren,
So has her Infant Nature chosen too
A faithful partner of her thoughts and wishes,
And kind Companion of her harmless pleasures.
Ern.
You mean the Beautious Orphan, fair Monimia.
Paul.
The same, the Daughter of the brave Chamont.
He was our Lords Companion in the Wars,
Where such a wondrous friendship grew between 'em,
As only Death could end: Chamont's Estate
Was ruin'd in our late and Civil discords;
Therefore unable to advance her Fortune,
He left this Daughter to our Masters care;
To such a care as she scarce lost a Father.
Ern.
Her Brother to the Emperors Wars went early,
To seek a Fortune or a noble Fate;
3
And mighty marks of that great Princes Favour.
Paul.
Our Master never would permit his Sons
To launch for Fortune in th' uncertain World,
But warnes to avoid both Courts, and Camps,
Where Dilatory Fortune plays the Jilt
With the brave noble honest gallant man,
To throw her self away on Fools and Knaves.
Ern.
They both have forward gen'rous active Spirits,
'Tis daily their Petition to their Father,
To send them forth where Glory's to be gotten;
They cry they're weary of their lazy home,
Restless to do some thing that Fame may talk of.
To day they chac'd the Boar, and near this time
Should be return'd.
Paul.
Oh that's a Royal sport!
We yet may see the old man in a morning
Lusty as health come ruddy to the Field,
And there pursue the Chace as if he meant
To o'retake Time and bring back Youth again.
[Ex. Ern. and Paul.
Enter Castalio, Polidor, and Page.
Cast.
Polidor! our sport
Has been to day much better for the danger;
When on the brink the foaming Boar I met,
And in his side thought to have lodg'd my spear,
The desperate savage rusht within my Force,
And bore me headlong with him down the Rock.
Polid.
But then—
Cast.
Ay then my Brother, my Friend Polidor
Like Perseus mounted on his winged Steed
Came on, and down the dang'rous precipice leapt,
To save Castalio. 'Twas a God-like Act.
Polid.
But when I came, I found you Conqueror.
Oh my heart danc't to see your danger past!
The heat and fury of the Chace was coold,
And I had nothing in my mind but Joy.
Cast.
So, Polidor, methinks we might in War
4
And I'd be thine; what is't could hurt us then?
Now half the Youth of Europe are in Armes,
How fulsome must it be to stay behind,
And dye of rank diseases here at home?
Pol.
No, let me purchase in my Youth Renown,
To make me lov'd and valu'd when I'm old;
I would be busie in the World and learn,
Not like a course and useless dunghill Weed
Fixt to one spot and rot just as I grew.
Cast.
Our Father
Has ta'ne himself a surfeit of the World,
And cries it is not safe that we should taste it;
I own I have Duty very pow'rful in me;
And tho' I'd hazard all to raise my Name,
Yet he's so tender and so good a Father,
I could not do a thing to cross his will.
Pol.
Castalio, I have doubts within my heart,
Which you, and only you, can satisfy:
Will you be free and candid to your Friend?
Cast.
Have I a thought my Polidor shou'd not know?
What can this mean?
Pol.
Nay, I'll conjure you too
By all the strictest bonds of Faithful Friendship,
To shew your heart as naked in this point,
As you would purge you of your sins to Heaven.
Cast.
I will.
Pol.
And should I chance to touch it nearly, bear it
With all the suff'rance of a tender Friend.
Cast.
As calmly as the wounded Patient bears
The Artist's hand, that Ministers his Cure.
Pol.
That's kindly said. You know our Fathers ward
The fair Monimia: is your heart at peace?
Is it so guarded that you could not love her?
Cast.
Suppose I should.
Pol.
Suppose you shou'd not, Brother.
Cast.
You'd say I must not.
Pol.
That would sound too roughly
'Twixt Friends and Brothers as we two are.
Cast.
Is love a Fault?
5
In one of us it may be;
What if I Love her?
Cast.
Then I must inform you,
I lov'd her first, and cannot quit the Claim,
But will preserve the Birth-right of my Passion.
Pol.
You will!
Cast.
I will.
Pol.
No more, I've done.
Cast.
Why not?
Pol.
I told you, I had done;
But you Castalio would dispute it.
Cast.
No:
Not with my Polydor; though I must own
My Nature obstinate and void of suff'rance.
Love raigns a very Tyrant in my heart,
Attended on his Throne by all his Guards
Of furious wishes, fears, and nice suspicions.
I could not bear a Rival in my Friendship,
I am so much in love, and fond of thee.
Pol.
Yet you would break this Friendship!
Cast.
Not for Crowns.
Pol.
But for a Toy you would, a Womans Toy,
Unjust Castalio!
Cast.
Prithee, where's my fault?
Pol.
You love Monimia.
Cast.
Yes.
Pol.
And you would kill me,
If I'm your Rival.
Cast.
No, sure weare such Friends,
So much one man, that our affections too
Must be united and the same as we are.
Pol.
I doat upon Monimia.
Cast.
Love her still;
Win, and enjoy her.
Pol.
Both of us cannot.
Cast.
No matter
Whose chance it proves, but let's not quarrel for't.
Pol.
You would not wed Monimia, would you?
Cast.
Wed her!
No! were she all desire could wish, as fair
6
With Wealth beyond what Woman pride could waste,
She should not cheat me of my Freedom Marry?
When I am old and weary of the World,
I may grow desperate
And take a Wife to mortify withall
Pol.
It is an elder Brothers duty so
To propagate his family and name:
You would not have yours dye and bury'd with you?
Cast.
Meer Vanity, and silly dotage all,
No, let me live at large, and when I dye.
Pol.
Who shall possess th' estate you leave?
Cast.
My Friend,
If he survives me, or if not, my King,
Who may bestow't again on some brave man,
Whose Honesty and Services deserve one.
Pol.
'Tis kindly offer'd.
Cast.
By yon Heaven I love
My Polydor beyond all worldly Joyes,
And would not shock his quiet to be blest
With greater happiness than man e're tasted.
Pol.
And by that heaven eternally I swear,
To keep the kind Castalio in my heart.
Whose shall Monimia be?
Cast.
No matter who's.
Pol.
Were you not with her privately last night?
Cast.
I was, and should have met her here again;
But th' opportunity shall now be thine;
My self will bring thee to the Scene of Love;
But have a care by Friendship I conjure thee,
That no false Play be offer'd to thy Brother.
Urge all thy pow'rs to make thy Passion prosper,
But wrong not mine.
Pol.
Heav'n blast me if I do.
Cast.
If't prove thy Fortune, Polidor, to conquer,
(For thou hast all the Arts of fine perswasion!)
Trust me, and let me know thy Loves success,
That I may ever after stifle mine.
Pol.
Though she be dearer to my soul than Rest
To weary Pilgrims; or to Misers Gold,
7
Rather than wrong Castalio I'd forget her,
For if ye pow'rs have happiness in store,
When ye would shower down joyes on Polydor,
In one great blessing all your bounty send,
That I may never lose so dear a Friend.
[Ex. Cast. Pol. manet Page.
Enter Monimia.
Mon.
So soon return'd from hunting? This fair Day
Seems as if sent t'invite the World abroad.
Past not Castalio and Polydor this way?
Pag.
Madam, just now.
Mon.
Sure some ill Fate's upon me.
Distrust and heaviness sits round my heart,
And Apprehension shocks my timerous Soul.
Why was I not lain in my peaceful Grave
With my poor Parents? and at Rest as they are?
Instead of that I am wand'ring into cares.
Castalio! oh Castalio! thou hast caught
My foolish heart; and like a tender Child,
That trusts his play-thing to another hand,
I fear its harm, and fain would have it back.
Come near Cordelio, I must chide you, Sir.
Pag.
Why, Madam, have I done you any wrong?
Mon.
I never see you now; you have been kinder;
Sate by my Bed, and sung me pretty Songs:
Perhaps I've been ungrateful, here's Mony for you:
Will you oblige me? shall I see you oft'ner?
Pag.
Madam, indeed I'd serve you with my Soul;
But in a morning when you call me to you,
As by your bed I stand and tell you stories,
I am asham'd to see your swelling Breasts,
It makes me blush, they are so very white.
Mon.
Oh men for flattery and deceit renown'd!
Thus when y'are young, ye learn it all like him,
Till as your years encrease, that strengthens too,
T'undo poor Maids and make our ruin easie.
Tell me, Cordelio, for thou hast oft heard
8
Sometimes at least, have they not talkt of me?
Pag.
Oh Madam! very wickedly they have talkt:
But I'm afraid to name it, for they say
Boys must be whipt that tell their Masters secrets.
Mon.
Fear not, Cordelio! it shall ne're be known;
For I'll preserve the secret as 'twere mine:
Polydor cannot be so kind as I.
I'll furnish thee for all thy harmless sports
VVith pretty Toys, and thou shalt be my Page
Pag.
And truly, Madam, I had rather be so.
Methinks you love me better than my Lord,
For he was never half so kind as you are!
VVhat must I do?
Mon.
Inform me how th' hast heard
Castalio and his Brother use my Name?
Pag.
VVith all the tenderness of Love,
You were the Subject of their last discourse.
At first I thought it would have Fatal prov'd
But as the one grew hot the other coold,
And yielded to the frailty of his Friend;
At last, after much strugling 'twas resolv'd.
Mon.
VVhat, good Cordelio?
Pag.
Not to quarrel for you.
Mon.
I would not have 'em, by my dearest hopes,
I would not be the argument of strife.
But surely my Castalio wo'nt forsake me,
And make a Mockery of my easie Love.
VVent they together?
Pag.
Yes, to seek you, Madam.
Castalio promis'd Polydor to bring him,
VVhere he alone might meet you,
And fairly try the Fortune of his wishes.
Mon.
Am I then grown so cheap, just to be made
A common stake, a prize for love in jest.
VVas not Castalio very loth to yield it,
Or was it Polydor's unruly Passion,
That heighten'd the debate?
Pag.
The fault was Polydor's,
Castalio play'd with love and smiling shew'd
9
He said no Womans smiles shou'd buy his Freedom;
And Marriage is a mortifying thing.
Mon.
Then am I ruin'd, if Castalio's false,
Where is their Faith, or Honour to be found?
Ye Gods, that Guard the Innocent, and guid
The weak; protect, and take me to your care.
Oh! but I love him: There's the Rock will wrack me!
Why was I made with all my Sexes softness,
Yet, want the Cunning to conceal its follies?
I'll see Castalio, tax him with his falsehoods,
Be a true Woman, rail, protest my wrongs,
Resolve to hate him, and yet love him still.
Enter Castalio and Polydor.
He comes, the Conquerour comes! lye still, my Heart,
And learn to bear thy injuries with scorn.
Cast.
Madam, my Brother begs he may have leave
To tell you something that concerns you nearly;
I leave you as becomes me, and withdraw.
Mon.
My Lord Castalio!
Cast.
Madam!
Mon.
Have you purpos'd
To abuse me palpably? What means this usage?
Why am I left with Polydor alone?
Cast.
He best can tell you. Business of importance
Calls me away, I must attend my Father.
Mon.
Will you then leave me thus?
Cast.
But for a moment.
Mon.
It has been otherwise; the time has been,
When business might have stay'd, and I been hear'd.
Cast.
I could for ever hear thee; but this time
Matters of such odd circumstances press me,
That I must go—
Mon.
Then go; and if 't be possible, for ever.
[Ex. Cast.
Well, my Lord Polydor, I guess your business,
And read the ill-natur'd purpose in your eyes.
Pol.
If to desire you more than Misers Wealth,
Or dying men an hour of added life,
10
Than ever suffer'd yet for love disdain'd,
Speak an ill Nature, you accuse me justly.
Mon.
Talk not of Love, my Lord, I must not hear it.
Pol.
Who can behold such Beauty, and be silent?
Desire first taught us words: Man, when created
At first alone, long wander'd up and down,
Forlorn, and silent as his Vassal Beasts;
But when a Heav'n-born Maid, like you, appear'd,
Strange pleasures fill'd his eyes, and fir'd his heart,
Unloos'd his Tongue, and his first talk was Love.
Mon.
The first created pair, indeed, were blest;
They were the only Objects of each other;
Therefore he Courted her, and her alone;
But in this peopled World of Beauty, where
There's roving Room, where you may Court, and ruin
A thousand more, why need you talk to me?
Pol.
Oh! I could talk to thee for ever; Thus
Eternally admiring, fix and gaze
On those dear Eyes, for every glance they send
Darts through my Soul, and almost gives enjoyment.
Mon.
How can you labour thus for my undoing?
I must confess, indeed, I owe you more,
Than ever I can hope to think to pay.
There alwayes was a Friendship 'twixt our Families;
And therefore when my tender Parents dy'd,
Whose ruin'd Fortunes too expir'd with them,
Your Fathers pity and his Bounty took me
A poor and helpless Orphan to his care.
Pol.
'Twas Heav'n ordain'd it so to make me happy.
Hence with this peevish Vertue, 'tis a cheat,
And those who taught it first, were Hypocrites;
Come, these soft tender Limbs were made for yielding.
Mon.
Here on my knees by heav'ns blest pow'r I swear,
[Kneels.
If you persist, I never henceforth will see you.
But rather wander through the world a begger,
And live on sordid scraps at proud mens doors;
For though to Fortune lost, I'll still inherit
My Mothers Vertues and my Fathers honour.
11
Intolerable Vanity! your Sex
VVas never in the right; y'are alwayes false,
Or silly; even your dresses are not more
Fantastick than your appetites! you think
Of nothing twice! Opinion you have none.
To day y'are nice, to morrow not so free,
Now Smile, then Frown; now sorrowful, then glad,
Now pleas'd, now not; and all you know not why!
Vertue you affect, Inconstancy's your practice,
And when your loose desires once get dominion,
No hungry Churle feeds courser at Feast,
Every rank Fool goes down—
Mon.
Indeed, my Lord,
I own my Sexes follies, I have 'em all,
And to avoid it's faults must fly from you,
Therefore believe me, cou'd you raise me high,
As most fantastick VVomans wish could reach,
And lay all Natures Riches at my feet,
I'd rather run a Salvage in the VVoods
Amongst brute Beasts, grow wrinckled and deform'd,
As wildness and most rude neglect could make me,
So I might still enjoy my honour safe,
From the destroying wiles of faithless man.
[Ex. Mon.
Pol.
VVho'd be that sordid foolish thing call'd man,
To cringe thus, fawn, and flatter for a pleasure,
VVhich Beasts enjoy so very much above him:
The lusty Bull ranges through all the Field,
And from the Herd singling his Female out,
Enjoyes her, and abandons her at VVill.
It shall be so, I'll yet possess my Love,
VVait on, and watch her loose unguarded hours,
Then when her roving thoughts have been abroad,
And brought in wanton wishes to her heart;
I'th' very minute when her Vertue nods,
I'll rush upon her in a storm of Love,
Bear down her guard of Honour all before me,
Surfeit on Joys till even desire grows sick:
Then by long Absence liberty regain
And quite forget the pleasure and the pain.
[Ex. Pol. and Page.
| The Orphan : or, The Unhappy-Marriage | |