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I meddle with no man's business but my own;
Cha. I'm glad you are so happy.
Chap. I did, and was most sorry when we lost him.
Chap. I can be no man's foe.
Cha. Then pr’ythee tell me, Think'st thou the lord Castalio loves
sister? Nay, never start. Come, come, I know thy office
Opens thee all the secrets of the family. “ Then if thou’rt honest, use this freedom kindly."
Chap. Love your sister!
“ Chap. Sir, I never ask'd him,
“ Cha. Nay, but thou’rt an hypocrite; is there not
“ Of all thy tribe that's honest? In your schools
“ Not free enough to practice gen'rous truth, " Though ye pretend tu teach it to the world.
“ Chap. I would deserve a better thought from you. “ Cha. If thou wouldst have me not contemn thy
(6 office “ And character, think all thy brethren knaves, “ Thy trade a cheat, and thou its worst professor, “ Inform me; for I tell thee, priest, I'll know.” Chap. Either he loves her, or he much has wrong'd
her. Cha. How! wrong'd her? Have a care, for this
A scene of mischief to undo us all.
Chap. Ay, sir, wrong'd her.
Cha. This is a secret worth a monarch's fortune: What shall I give thee for't? Thou dear physician Of sickly souls, unfold this riddle to me, And comfort mine
Chap. I would hide nothing from you willingly. “ Cha. Nay, then again thou’rt honest. Would'st
66 thou tell me? « Chap. Yes, if I durst. “ Cha. Why, what affrights thee?
“ Chap. You do.
" Cha. Why, I am no fool.
“ And hardly shall be mad enough to-night
« Cha. Art thou then
Chap. Sir, I'm not often us'd thus. “ Cha. Be just then.
" Cha. So I shall be to the trust
Chap. Then this good day, when all the house was
Chap. I, by their own appointment, met them there, Receiv'd their marriage-vows, and join'd their hands.
Cha. How! marry'd!
Chap. Not knowing what reception it may find
Cha. What's the cause
soul's at peace.
Enter CASTALIQ and MONIMIA.
Seems no good boding omen to her bliss;
Mon. Castalio, I am thinking what we've done.
soul. What should that mean? Cast. On, thou art tender all !
300 Gentle and kind as sympathising nature ! “ When a sad story has been told, I've seen “ Thy little breasts, with soft compassion swell’d, “ Shove up and down, and heave like dying birds; “ But now let fear be banish'd, think no more “ Of danger; for there's safety in my arms; “ Let them receive thee. Heav'n grows jealous now; “ Sure she's too good for any mortal creature ! “ I could grow wild, and praise thee ev'n to madness." But wherefore do I dally with my bliss ? The night's far spent, and day draws on apace; To bed, my love, and wake till I come thither.
Pol. So hot, my brother! [Polydore at the door.
Mon. 'Twill be impossible ;
Cast. Impossible ! impossible! alas!