SCENE I.--_A Room in_ ACASTO'S _House_.

_Enter_ ACASTO.

Acast. Blest be the morning that has brought me health; A happy rest has softened pain away, And I'll forget it, though my mind's not well: A heavy melancholy clogs my heart; I droop and sigh, I know not why. Dark dreams, Sick fancy's children, have been over-busy, And all the night played farces in my brains. Methought I heard the midnight raven cry; Waked with the imagined noise, my curtains seemed To start, and at my feet my sons appeared, Like ghosts, all pale and stiff: I strove to speak, But could not; suddenly the forms were lost, And seemed to vanish in a bloody cloud. 'Twas odd, and for the present shook my thoughts; But was the effect of my distempered blood; And, when the health's disturbed, the mind's unruly.

_Enter_ POLYDORE.

Good-morning, Polydore.

_Pol._ Heaven keep your lordship!

_Acast._ Have you yet seen Castalio to-day?

_Pol._ My lord, 'tis early day; he's hardly risen.

_Acast._ Go, call him up, and meet me in the chapel. [_Exit_ POLYDORE. I cannot think all has gone well to-night; For as I waking lay (and sure my sense Was then my own) methought I heard my son Castalio's voice; but it seemed low and mournful; Under my window too I thought I heard it: My untoward fancy could not be deceived In everything; and I will search the truth out.

_Enter_ MONIMIA _and_ FLORELLA.

Already up, Monimia! you rose Thus early surely to outshine the day! Or was there anything that crossed your rest? They were naughty thoughts that would not let you sleep.

_Mon._ Whatever are my thoughts, my lord, I've learnt By your example to correct their ills, And morn and evening give up the account.

_Acast._ Your pardon, sweet one; I upbraid you not; Or, if I would, you are so good I could not; Though I'm deceived, or you're more fair to-day; For beauty's heightened in your cheeks, and all Your charms seem up and ready in your eyes.

_Mon._ The little share I have's so very mean That it may easily admit addition; Though you, my lord, should most of all beware To give it too much praise, and make me proud.

_Acast._ Proud of an old man's praises! No, Monimia! But if my prayers can do you any good, Thou shalt not want the largest share of them. Heard you no noise to-night?

_Mon._ Noise, my good lord!

_Acast._ Ay, about midnight?

_Mon._ Indeed, my lord, I don't remember any.

_Acast._ You must, sure! Went you early to your rest?

_Mon._ About the wonted hour.--Why this inquiry? [_Aside._

_Acast._ And went your maid to bed too?

_Mon._ My lord, I guess so: I've seldom known her disobey my orders.

_Acast._ Sure goblins then, or fairies, haunt the dwelling! I'll have inquiry made through all the house, But I'll find out the cause of these disorders. Good-day to thee, Monimia. I'll to chapel. [_Exit._

_Mon._ I'll but dispatch some orders to my woman, And wait upon your lordship there. I fear the priest has played us false; if so, My poor Castalio loses all for me. I wonder, though, he made such haste to leave me; Was't not unkind, Florella? surely 'twas! He scarce afforded one kind parting word, But went away so cold!--the kiss he gave me Seemed the forced compliment of sated love. Would I had never married!

_Flor._ Why?

_Mon._ Methinks The scene's quite altered; I am not the same; I've bound up for myself a weight of cares, And how the burden will be borne, none knows. A husband may be jealous, rigid, false; And, should Castalio e'er prove so to me, So tender is my heart, so nice my love, 'Twould ruin and distract my rest for ever.

_Flor._ Madam, he's coming.

_Mon._ Where, Florella? where? Is he returning? To my chamber lead; I'll meet him there: the mysteries of our love Should be kept private as religious rites From the unhallowed view of common eyes. [_Exeunt._