Mon. 'Tis but one night, my lord; I pray be ruled.
Cast. Try if thou'st power to stop a flowing tide,
Or in a tempest make the seas be calm;
And, when that's done, I'll conquer my desires.
No more, my blessing. What shall be the sign?
When shall I come? for to my joys I'll steal,
As if I ne'er had paid my freedom for them.
Mon. Just three soft strokes upon the chamber-door;
And at that signal you shall gain admittance:
But speak not the least word; for if you should,
'Tis surely heard, and all will be betrayed.
Cast. Oh! doubt it not, Monimia; our joys
Shall be as silent as the ecstatic bliss
Of souls that by intelligence converse:
Immortal pleasures shall our senses drown;
Thought shall be lost, and every power dissolved:
Away, my love! first take this kiss. Now haste.
I long for that to come, yet grudge each minute past.
[Exit Monimia.
My brother wandering too so late this way!
Pol. [Coming forward]. Castalio!
Cast. My Polydore, how dost thou?
How does our father; is he well recovered?
Pol. I left him happily reposed to rest;
He's still as gay as if his life were young.
But how does fair Monimia?
Cast. Doubtless well.
A cruel beauty with her conquests pleased
Is always joyful, and her mind in health.